Girlhood, my Grandmother, and finding her God - my testimony

My adored Granny Alice and I

For so many years, I've wanted to write my testimony.

But I've always worried that it wouldn't be enough of a "wow" testimony to read, that my words would disappoint me. It's harder to write about something that matters this much, because I don't ever want to dilute the "hugeness" of it through my own in-eloquence.

But I'm having a go.

My testimony is not a sudden scales-falling-from-my-eyes type of coming to faith. It really begins as one of my earliest memories. 

I was always aware of a God, someone much bigger than anything else I could imagine, even before I could speak of Him. There was always someone who was gently calling me, and I cannot recall ever not knowing that voice.

And then there was my much-adored grandmother... 

She was the only person I knew who spoke of her God, and I begged my Granny to take me to church with her so I could meet Him too. When I was 5 years old, I asked her for a bible, and she gave me my first copy - a black hardcover with tongues of flames on the front. I lay on my bedroom floor and devoured it, then adamantly refused to wear trousers after reading Deutoronomy 22:5.

A woman must not wear men’s clothing, nor a man wear women’s clothing, for the LORD your God detests anyone who does this.

My grandmother was touched. She explained a little about the context of the words I had read and the contrasting freedom found in the New Testament scriptures, and then started to take me to church more regularly. I would often sleep over at her house over the weekends, and the best part for me was her church on Sundays because I felt her God there.

She belonged to a huge church, and I sat through each altar call, wanting with all my heart to jump up and make my way to the front. Yet I sat in my seat, intimidated by all the people, worried about not finding my grandmother again in the crowds, and also unsure whether the pastor was addressing children too.

Then I started school and met Miss Stimson. She ran a Bible study group at recess, as well as one afternoon a week after school. I loved these sessions, she taught us so many gospel songs as she accompanied on her guitar. And they are still the familiar song words that come to my mind when I am in a crisis and want to reach out to God.

So as I grew up, I followed God's voice and He continued to call me. 

But it was only when I was 11, in my last year of primary school, that another teacher gave a classroom altar call one day. There were only kids present, so I knew it was specifically aimed at us. I wanted to go to heaven when I died, I wanted to meet Jesus, and that day I prayed with my teacher and  accepted God's gift with both hands outstretched.

In high school, I fell away somewhat. Life as a teenager was social and full, and so much more about me. Although God's voice was still there, it was now more of a whisper.

Still, I knew that I knew Him. And when I ever stopped to think about it, I knew that I was His. But I was going in a different direction for a while. There is a scripture that spoke to me at that time, Psalm 139

 ⁷I can never escape from your Spirit!
      I can never get away from your presence!
 ⁸ If I go up to heaven, you are there;
      if I go down to the grave,^[a] you are there.
 ⁹ If I ride the wings of the morning,
      if I dwell by the farthest oceans,
 ¹⁰ even there your hand will guide me,
      and your strength will support me.
 ¹¹ I could ask the darkness to hide me
      and the light around me to become night—
    ¹² but even in darkness I cannot hide from you.
   To you the night shines as bright as day.
      Darkness and light are the same to you.

And then I was in uni, studying medicine, and seeing so much more of life and death.  We went away on a rural medical rotation and met a Christian missionary there. A group of us began meeting with him after the day's clinics were over, talking about God together, and I heard Him calling me again. 

We returned back home, and I rededicated my life to God. I joined a church, got water baptised and spirit-filled, and there has been no turning back. And God has been so faithful, He has carried me through difficult paths.

And just as I had prayed, at the perfect time, He brought a wonderful Godly man into my life. And He has blessed us with 5 beautiful children, who have all chosen to follow Him too.

My prayer for them is that they will always know Him. But I trust that to God. He calls His sheep, and they will know His voice.

Lastly, God has given me a platform to love others beyond my social circle. I am a doctor and I see so many people at their most vulnerable. Every time, as I drive to work, I pray that I will be God's love to them, that I will bring his "fragrance" into their lives. I ask God to use me, that I would be transparent, and that his light would shine through me.

And in choosing this path, I've discovered that a big part of medicine is not curing disease, it is compassion and empathy and the offering of love. It is sometimes just listening, really listening, and being there to hold someone's hand. It has become my testimony.
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