When I was very young around 12 or 13 years old I would attend my youth group every now in then in my church. I believe I was still in 7th or 8th grade, and whenever I got very sad I would cry alone in my sleep. I would usually talk to God but I called him Dad and Father. One youth night I felt very discouraged because I was a nobody in my church. No one really talked to me, and when we got in groups for games no one ever wanted me on my team unless if I was the last option. Rarely did I ever have someone to chat with. I went home upset. And I cried to God and told him how lonely I felt in the church, and that I thought a church was supposed to be welcoming and a family to rely on. But it felt like the complete opposite for me. And I was crying to him so hard. When I awoke early in the morning to attend school that church was on fire and it appeared on the news. And the news reporter said it occurred overnight! The very night I was crying to God. The wrath was unleashed on the pastor's office not the entire church. That very church I still go to and there is no longer a youth group because there aren't enough kids. And my experiences do not end here. years later my sophomore year of high school I desperately wanted to play varsity basketball for the team. My greatest fear was that the freshman would be ahead of me, I would be ineligible because of grades and every one would know bout it. Not everyone knew I was ineligible but I was that year and the freshman played varsity and not only that but they won the finals. I was so torn apart. And as a baby christian I realized after losing what I loved how selfish I was by living a life never giving thanks to the man who died for me to have it. This made me very guilty, so I cried to Jesus that night and said I was so sorry, and yelled at him telling him not to die such a gruesome death, and why he did it? I told Jesus that I don't know what to do without him and in my mind I heard a whiplash and screaming and other people laughing. And I was angry and sad, and the whole night I was mourning Jesus's crucifixion. I remember not wanting to eat because I didn't think I deserved it. I felt so bad, that I wouldn't be satisfied unless I knew Jesus was ok. I was going to go through life mad and grumpy because I was selfish and my king was murdered because of my wants and my sin. I felt all of this. Not expecting Jesus to appear to me a day or a couple days afterward. I was walking back home from school, and for some reason I felt such joy and relief, so happy. I don't know why. When I entered my home, I pumped up my flat basketball and continued to practice in my backyard. Losing a year wasn't enough to make me quit. Suddenly I realized I was being tested by faith, so I looked to the sky and told God, "You know what! No matter what happens to me from now on I'm just never going to give up." And something glorious happened. Beautiful white birds gathered in the sky and formed the Jesus fish. The fish that you see on people's cars. It wasn't till 2years later I truly lived as a Christian. And I realized that those birds, were doves. And the fish was Jesus letting me know that my sins were forgiven, and that I was receiving the holy spirit. My gift was poems. I was then able to write great christian poetry as a gift from Jesus. And I planned on using basketball and poetry to serve him for the rest of my life. But it doesn't even end here. Years later I abused my gift to arouse women and get them to fall for me because I was now a great storyteller. So I stated a false testimony! To an innocent woman and she died because of it. I won't speak of the false testimony I stated because it makes me puke by thinking bout it. I was still a sinner. God tried to cheer me up and continued to bless me, he was disciplining me, both God and Jesus preparing me to be a true disciple. Jesus is usually the brother who warns me and comforts me. One incident not long ago was in the morning I asked him to speak to me, and read Matthew 7:15 which stated, "Beware of false prophets which come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly they are ravening wolves". That very day I came back home late at night after a walk because I like to go on walks. And two young men dressed in white upper attire and black long pants tried to convert me to mormonism. I told them I was Christian and that I was already saved, but they kept pushing. Not in a strict manner but in a disturbing one. Their invitation wasn't very welcoming. And I'm still Christian, and always will be. I have still got some more stories if you'd like to know them you can message me.
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