Once Upon a Time...

Per the request of Yellowinter, here is my abridged testimony:

I grew up in what I thought was a typical Korean-American, Christian home. My dad was an elder at our church, my mom a member of the choir. Although we went to church every Sunday, God and Jesus were rarely mentioned in our home.

I first came to Christ when I was about 7 yrs old while attending a VBS at a friend's church. The speaker asked us to raise our hands if we wanted Jesus to be our friend, so I did, and was led through the "Sinner's Prayer". Since salvation and the work of the Cross were rarely taught at home or church, my knowledge of the person of God was limited to Old Testament stories of a wrathful God who punished those who were bad. I feared God as the great
Discipliner and Punisher, but was ignorant of God the loving Father.

It wasn't until a fateful night at an overnight camp that I finally learned of the loving, patient, forgiving and sacrificial love of God. It was then that I was taught about God's unconditional love for me; that though I wronged Him in so many ways and was so undeserving, He sent His one and only Son to rescue me, to restore my relationship with Him. Like the beaten man on the road to Jericho, I was dying in my sin until Christ came and healed me, washing me clean of my sins. Even more astonishing to me was that He came and took my place on that road, taking my beating and my shame, allowing His clean robes to be bloodied and stained for me.

My faith was shaken, however, when my parents suddenly divorced during the summer leading into my freshman year of college. Secrets of my dad's repeated infidelities and lies surfaced and rocked my trust in him and in my heavenly Father. I was angry, bitter and confused. I couldn't understand God's reasoning or plan for all the pain He'd allowed to come to my mom, brother and myself. I couldn't let go of the dad I knew and was unable to accept this stranger who resembled my father, but who didn't seem to have any interest in remaining in the lives of his children. His infrequent visits became more and more sparse. Many nights were spent in angry, hot tears as I, in my furious and helpless state, challenged God to bring about good through all the chaos we [my family] had now found ourselves in.

Slowly, God has been revealing His father's heart for me. He's showed unending patience and compassion while I struggled to walk again. His promise to be a "father to the fatherless" has brought a silent and still comfort that have brought me thus far. He's remained faithful to His
promises and has honored the prayers whispered in desperation. He has taught me about the meaning of restoration, and has opened His heart He calls me His beloved, His daughter and His precious child. And I am so thankful because, honestly, I have no idea how or why He could sometimes.