Lady Queue
New member
- Joined
- Oct 16, 2026
- Messages
- 1
- Gender
- Female
- Religious Affiliation
- Methodist
- Marital Status
- Married
- Acceptance of the Trinity & Nicene Creed
- Yes
I Did It Anyway: My Journey to God
A Personal Testimony
Looking back, I realize God was reaching out to me long before I was ready to reach back.
When I was about 14 or 15 years old, doctors discovered severe calcium deposits in my pancreas. I was told my pancreas looked like that of someone who had been drinking heavily for decades. And at just 14 or 15 years old, I had never had a single drop of alcohol in my life.
It was serious, and there were concerns about what my future might look like.
Around that time, my family had some friends named Gina and Andre. I'm not quite sure how that friendship originally began, but I remember they were friends of my father and Grandmother's, and they would come over to our apartment for Bible studies.
One day, after they had been visiting, Gina and Andre left our apartment. But just a couple of minutes later, Gina suddenly came back through the front door without even knocking.
She apologized and explained that she felt God was telling her she needed to pray.
She rushed over to me, got down on her knees, placed her hands on my stomach, closed her eyes tightly, and began praying and crying.
What she didn't know was that I was having serious problems with my pancreas. Nobody had told her.
As she prayed, I felt an intense warmth in my abdomen, unlike anything I had ever experienced. I began crying, and I didn't even understand why.
Just a couple of days later, I had my scheduled appointment with a specialist. My mother took me, and after the specialist examined me, performed several tests, and compared the results with my previous scans from the hospital, he turned to my mother and asked a question neither of us expected.
He asked her if she had brought the wrong child to the appointment.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with my pancreas.
The same pancreas that had appeared so severely damaged just days before now appeared completely normal.
It was a complete miracle, and there was no medical explanation for what had happened.
To this day, I believe that God healed me.
But here's the part of my story that I've struggled to understand for years.
Even after experiencing what I believe was a miracle, I still turned away from God.
I have no idea why.
I remember attending church services with Pastor Winston. At the end of each service, he would invite people forward who wanted to accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. He would lay his hands on them and pray.
One day, I found myself standing before him. He placed his hands on my head and began praying over me. I remember feeling warmth coming from his hands as he asked me if I was ready to accept Jesus into my heart and allow the Holy Spirit to fill me.
And I began to cry.
I couldn't explain why I was crying. I felt overwhelmed with emotion, but there was also this tremendous feeling of guilt inside me. Something was holding me back, and I couldn't understand what it was.
When Pastor Winston asked if I was ready to accept Jesus Christ, all I could say was no.
"No. No. No."
I kept repeating it. I couldn't bring myself to say yes. I wasn't worthy and something was holding me back.
I remember Pastor Winston's expression. He looked so incredibly sad, almost as though he could sense that something was holding me back spiritually.
At the time, I wondered if there was some kind of spiritual darkness keeping me from accepting God into my life.
I couldn't understand why I was resisting Him after everything I'd experienced.
God had already shown me what I believed was a miracle, yet when I was given the opportunity to accept Him into my heart, I still said no.
For years afterward, I questioned myself. How could I experience something so extraordinary and still struggle to believe?
I spent much of my adult life uncertain about my faith. I made mistakes, struggled with depression and anxiety, and started drinking way too much as a way to cope with those struggles. I also drank to try to fit in with different crowds of people, make friends, and feel like I belonged. I made choices I'm not proud of.
I tried to be a good person, but something always felt missing.
In 2017, I married my husband, Myles. I knew I wanted to have children with him and build a better future for our family, so I made the decision to stop drinking.
After my son was born, I continued staying away from alcohol. I didn't want him growing up seeing me the way I had been when I was drinking. I wanted to be a better person and a better mother for him.
At first, I was doing it for my son and my family. But eventually, I realized I needed to make that change for myself, too.
Then in 2020, after losing my job during the pandemic, my husband and I decided to move. We could have gone almost anywhere, but for multiple reasons, we felt drawn to Lubbock, Texas.
I told my father I was putting up the sail on my boat and letting God decide where the wind would take me.
I didn't fully understand what that meant at the time.
But looking back, I believe God knew exactly where He was taking me.
After moving to Lubbock, I became curious about God again. I read religious books and explored my faith.
But every time I began feeling closer to Him, I became overwhelmed with emotion and fear.
And once again, I backed away.
Then I met my neighbors, Cindy and Tony.
They were strong believers, and they talked openly about their faith. But what I appreciated most was that they never pressured me.
They simply reminded me that I didn't have to be perfect to have a relationship with God.
In 2025, Cindy invited my son to Vacation Bible School at a First Methodist Church.
Now, something you should know about me is that I struggle with social anxiety. Going somewhere unfamiliar, surrounded by people I don't know, can be terrifying for me.
So naturally, I tried to find a way to let someone else take my son!
I asked Cindy and Tony if they would be willing to take him, and they were happy to help. But as it turned out, I needed to go myself because I was his parent and legal guardian, and I had to sign him in.
Even though I was nervous and uncomfortable about going somewhere unfamiliar, I knew that Vacation Bible School would be good for him.
So I took him myself. I was afraid, but I did it anyway.
After Vacation Bible School, we were invited to attend Sunday worship so my son could participate in a performance with the other children.
I decided to go because, as a mother, how could I possibly miss the opportunity to see my son perform?
Of course, attending church with unfamiliar people still made me incredibly nervous.
But I wasn't going to let my fear keep me from being there for my son.
So once again, I did it anyway.
That Sunday, as my son and I were walking toward the sanctuary, he said something I will never forget.
"Mom, I feel God in this place."
Those words touched something deep inside my heart.
I thought, How could I keep my child from something he feels so strongly?
So I decided we would keep coming.
At first, I was going to church for my son.
But slowly, something began changing.
I started attending women's Bible studies and getting to know the wonderful women of the church. I wanted to grow in my faith and become more like them.
I saw changes in my child, too. He seemed happier, was making friends, and was growing in his own relationship with God.
Eventually, I decided I wanted us to become members of the church.
That meant meeting with the pastor and standing before the congregation to make my membership vows.
Once again, I was terrified.
But I did it anyway.
Then I was invited to help with Children's Church.
I was scared.
But I did it anyway.
And something wonderful happened. What once terrified me became something I genuinely enjoyed.
Then came the Fall In For Jesus Craft Sale.
Organizing that event meant contacting strangers, businesses, and news organizations, attending meetings, and speaking publicly.
For someone with social anxiety, those were enormous challenges.
But I did them anyway.
With every step, I began realizing something.
I wasn't just going to church for my son anymore.
I was going because I wanted to be there.
I wanted to learn about God, serve Him, and be part of this church family.
I began reading Scripture every morning and have kept that habit for over a year without missing a day.
And for the first time in my life, when I miss church, I actually feel like something is missing.
The little boy who once told me he felt God in that place was right.
Because now, I feel Him there, too.
And that brings me to November 22nd.
On that day, I will stand before my congregation and publicly reaffirm my faith through baptism.
And yes, I'm nervous!
But this time, I know why I'm doing it.
I'm not doing it because someone is asking me to. I'm not doing it because I feel pressured, or because I think I've finally become a perfect person.
I'm doing it because I love Jesus Christ, and I want Him in my life.
For so many years, I questioned whether I was worthy of God's love. I questioned why He would reach out to me when I had spent so much of my life turning away.
But I'm beginning to understand that God's grace isn't something I have to earn by being perfect.
It's a gift.
And I'm finally ready to receive it.
When I look back at that frightened teenager who cried and said no to Jesus, I wish I could tell her that one day she would stand before a church full of people, still frightened, but ready to say yes.
And I believe God was patiently waiting for that moment all along.
I thought I was bringing my son to God.
But somewhere along the way, God was using my son to bring me back to Him.
And now, even when I'm afraid, I want to keep saying yes.
Because I've learned that faith doesn't always mean the absence of fear.
Sometimes faith means trusting God enough to take that next step.
And doing it anyway.
Thank you.
A Personal Testimony
Looking back, I realize God was reaching out to me long before I was ready to reach back.
When I was about 14 or 15 years old, doctors discovered severe calcium deposits in my pancreas. I was told my pancreas looked like that of someone who had been drinking heavily for decades. And at just 14 or 15 years old, I had never had a single drop of alcohol in my life.
It was serious, and there were concerns about what my future might look like.
Around that time, my family had some friends named Gina and Andre. I'm not quite sure how that friendship originally began, but I remember they were friends of my father and Grandmother's, and they would come over to our apartment for Bible studies.
One day, after they had been visiting, Gina and Andre left our apartment. But just a couple of minutes later, Gina suddenly came back through the front door without even knocking.
She apologized and explained that she felt God was telling her she needed to pray.
She rushed over to me, got down on her knees, placed her hands on my stomach, closed her eyes tightly, and began praying and crying.
What she didn't know was that I was having serious problems with my pancreas. Nobody had told her.
As she prayed, I felt an intense warmth in my abdomen, unlike anything I had ever experienced. I began crying, and I didn't even understand why.
Just a couple of days later, I had my scheduled appointment with a specialist. My mother took me, and after the specialist examined me, performed several tests, and compared the results with my previous scans from the hospital, he turned to my mother and asked a question neither of us expected.
He asked her if she had brought the wrong child to the appointment.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with my pancreas.
The same pancreas that had appeared so severely damaged just days before now appeared completely normal.
It was a complete miracle, and there was no medical explanation for what had happened.
To this day, I believe that God healed me.
But here's the part of my story that I've struggled to understand for years.
Even after experiencing what I believe was a miracle, I still turned away from God.
I have no idea why.
I remember attending church services with Pastor Winston. At the end of each service, he would invite people forward who wanted to accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. He would lay his hands on them and pray.
One day, I found myself standing before him. He placed his hands on my head and began praying over me. I remember feeling warmth coming from his hands as he asked me if I was ready to accept Jesus into my heart and allow the Holy Spirit to fill me.
And I began to cry.
I couldn't explain why I was crying. I felt overwhelmed with emotion, but there was also this tremendous feeling of guilt inside me. Something was holding me back, and I couldn't understand what it was.
When Pastor Winston asked if I was ready to accept Jesus Christ, all I could say was no.
"No. No. No."
I kept repeating it. I couldn't bring myself to say yes. I wasn't worthy and something was holding me back.
I remember Pastor Winston's expression. He looked so incredibly sad, almost as though he could sense that something was holding me back spiritually.
At the time, I wondered if there was some kind of spiritual darkness keeping me from accepting God into my life.
I couldn't understand why I was resisting Him after everything I'd experienced.
God had already shown me what I believed was a miracle, yet when I was given the opportunity to accept Him into my heart, I still said no.
For years afterward, I questioned myself. How could I experience something so extraordinary and still struggle to believe?
I spent much of my adult life uncertain about my faith. I made mistakes, struggled with depression and anxiety, and started drinking way too much as a way to cope with those struggles. I also drank to try to fit in with different crowds of people, make friends, and feel like I belonged. I made choices I'm not proud of.
I tried to be a good person, but something always felt missing.
In 2017, I married my husband, Myles. I knew I wanted to have children with him and build a better future for our family, so I made the decision to stop drinking.
After my son was born, I continued staying away from alcohol. I didn't want him growing up seeing me the way I had been when I was drinking. I wanted to be a better person and a better mother for him.
At first, I was doing it for my son and my family. But eventually, I realized I needed to make that change for myself, too.
Then in 2020, after losing my job during the pandemic, my husband and I decided to move. We could have gone almost anywhere, but for multiple reasons, we felt drawn to Lubbock, Texas.
I told my father I was putting up the sail on my boat and letting God decide where the wind would take me.
I didn't fully understand what that meant at the time.
But looking back, I believe God knew exactly where He was taking me.
After moving to Lubbock, I became curious about God again. I read religious books and explored my faith.
But every time I began feeling closer to Him, I became overwhelmed with emotion and fear.
And once again, I backed away.
Then I met my neighbors, Cindy and Tony.
They were strong believers, and they talked openly about their faith. But what I appreciated most was that they never pressured me.
They simply reminded me that I didn't have to be perfect to have a relationship with God.
In 2025, Cindy invited my son to Vacation Bible School at a First Methodist Church.
Now, something you should know about me is that I struggle with social anxiety. Going somewhere unfamiliar, surrounded by people I don't know, can be terrifying for me.
So naturally, I tried to find a way to let someone else take my son!
I asked Cindy and Tony if they would be willing to take him, and they were happy to help. But as it turned out, I needed to go myself because I was his parent and legal guardian, and I had to sign him in.
Even though I was nervous and uncomfortable about going somewhere unfamiliar, I knew that Vacation Bible School would be good for him.
So I took him myself. I was afraid, but I did it anyway.
After Vacation Bible School, we were invited to attend Sunday worship so my son could participate in a performance with the other children.
I decided to go because, as a mother, how could I possibly miss the opportunity to see my son perform?
Of course, attending church with unfamiliar people still made me incredibly nervous.
But I wasn't going to let my fear keep me from being there for my son.
So once again, I did it anyway.
That Sunday, as my son and I were walking toward the sanctuary, he said something I will never forget.
"Mom, I feel God in this place."
Those words touched something deep inside my heart.
I thought, How could I keep my child from something he feels so strongly?
So I decided we would keep coming.
At first, I was going to church for my son.
But slowly, something began changing.
I started attending women's Bible studies and getting to know the wonderful women of the church. I wanted to grow in my faith and become more like them.
I saw changes in my child, too. He seemed happier, was making friends, and was growing in his own relationship with God.
Eventually, I decided I wanted us to become members of the church.
That meant meeting with the pastor and standing before the congregation to make my membership vows.
Once again, I was terrified.
But I did it anyway.
Then I was invited to help with Children's Church.
I was scared.
But I did it anyway.
And something wonderful happened. What once terrified me became something I genuinely enjoyed.
Then came the Fall In For Jesus Craft Sale.
Organizing that event meant contacting strangers, businesses, and news organizations, attending meetings, and speaking publicly.
For someone with social anxiety, those were enormous challenges.
But I did them anyway.
With every step, I began realizing something.
I wasn't just going to church for my son anymore.
I was going because I wanted to be there.
I wanted to learn about God, serve Him, and be part of this church family.
I began reading Scripture every morning and have kept that habit for over a year without missing a day.
And for the first time in my life, when I miss church, I actually feel like something is missing.
The little boy who once told me he felt God in that place was right.
Because now, I feel Him there, too.
And that brings me to November 22nd.
On that day, I will stand before my congregation and publicly reaffirm my faith through baptism.
And yes, I'm nervous!
But this time, I know why I'm doing it.
I'm not doing it because someone is asking me to. I'm not doing it because I feel pressured, or because I think I've finally become a perfect person.
I'm doing it because I love Jesus Christ, and I want Him in my life.
For so many years, I questioned whether I was worthy of God's love. I questioned why He would reach out to me when I had spent so much of my life turning away.
But I'm beginning to understand that God's grace isn't something I have to earn by being perfect.
It's a gift.
And I'm finally ready to receive it.
When I look back at that frightened teenager who cried and said no to Jesus, I wish I could tell her that one day she would stand before a church full of people, still frightened, but ready to say yes.
And I believe God was patiently waiting for that moment all along.
I thought I was bringing my son to God.
But somewhere along the way, God was using my son to bring me back to Him.
And now, even when I'm afraid, I want to keep saying yes.
Because I've learned that faith doesn't always mean the absence of fear.
Sometimes faith means trusting God enough to take that next step.
And doing it anyway.
Thank you.
Last edited: