14 
I was raised in a Christian home where God was always at the center of my family. We prayed together before meals and read Bible storybooks before bedtime. We went to Cub Hill Bible Presbyterian Church every Sunday morning, and Christian music was a staple in my house. I went to youth group and Bible studies when I could between training, and I attended Vacation Bible School in the summertime, which I loved. My parents never forced any of their beliefs on me. They taught me the Bible and encouraged me to ask questions and seek a relationship with God at my own pace. I always had trouble with schoolwork and struggled with comprehending information, and I had the same issue in this area. I hated that all my siblings seemed to have an easy faith while I struggled to piece it all together. I prayed, not fully understanding and not fully convinced.
“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” —Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV) 76
Most times in my life, my fire and independence were good things. They moved me forward and kept me motivated. But those same traits caused me to consistently push God and the church away. I wanted control. When I was younger, I couldn’t put this into words, but I now realize that I never felt good enough. I was used to working to be like everyone else and fighting to be on top of my sport. People were telling me that the love of this perfect and all-knowing God was a gift I could just accept, that I didn’t have to work for it. I wasn’t buying it. I didn’t fully understand how God could really love me when I didn’t always like myself. I wanted to believe, but why would Jesus Christ sacrifice himself and care about what was going on in my life? It just didn’t make sense.
Posing with my dad at my cousin’s wedding! I have a plethora of cousins, so there’s pretty much always an engagement, wedding, or baby shower being planned.
It wasn’t until I made the move away from my parents that I really started to question my relationship with Jesus. I could no longer go along with my parents’ and siblings’ faith when I was confronted with things that opposed it every day. It was as if I had all those years to study Christianity, and now it was time for me to take the test and see if any of it had stuck. I was constantly torn between the morals and beliefs I was raised with and the way everyone I was surrounded by thought and lived. I started pushing God further away so I didn’t have to be different. Thankfully, I have an amazing family, who kept me in their prayers, and a God who is faithful in His pursuit and never let me get too far away.
I started having severe anxiety, and the OCD* tendencies I always had came at me with full force. Once, I spent so long making my bed to perfection—ironing wrinkles out of it, lint-rolling it, and laying every corner just so—that I slept in the empty room of my suite (my roommate had moved out) for the next six months so I didn’t have to mess it up. I became obsessive over my weight and diet, and I started forcing myself to throw up if I felt that I ate too much on a particular day. My struggle eventually manifested itself as panic attacks, and I was rushed to the hospital by ambulance twice because the attacks were so bad that my friends thought I was dying. I thought so too. I felt as if my body were being ripped apart from the inside. Once, I was so sure I was having a heart attack that I called my mom to say goodbye.
While I was struggling through all of this, I found a church in Colorado that I really loved. I met some awesome people there, and I was reintroduced to the idea of personally choosing Jesus for my own life. I still fought against it, even as I was questioning and pursuing more answers for myself. After London and all the emotions that came with learning about my Russian family, I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t really feel anything. I knew it was time to let go. It’s easier to give up control when you realize you never had control over life anyway.
That summer, everything began to change for the better. One night at my church’s young adult Bible study group I actually felt God tug at my heart. In that moment, I made a vow to actively pursue Jesus, and I finally felt like I was enough. I realized that God doesn’t promise to make everything better, but He promises to be with me in every moment and every circumstance, ready to cover me in His endless grace. Becoming a Christian didn’t mean that everything would be easy-breezy from there on out, but in my moments of doubt, I can draw on my faith to face each new challenge that life brings.