Here’s what I’m asking you today. If I sat down with you one-on-one and asked about your faith life, your faith story, what would you tell me?
Where did you first encounter church? Where did you first encounter God? How did you first hear about Jesus?
Some of us would go all the way back. Some of us came to it later. Either way, there’s power in your story.
I used to be bothered that I didn’t have a dramatic conversion story. All that pain and brokenness that other people had to go through to find God—I missed out on it. I was sorry about that. But then I realized: I’m glad I didn’t have one of those stories. I’m grateful I was spared that suffering. And that gratitude is its own kind of testimony.
But here’s the thing. All of us, dramatic conversion story or not, all of us have areas where we need to repent and turn back toward God. All of us need that forgiveness. All of us need that grace. We just maybe express it differently.
So what I want to know is: how has God shown up in your life? Where has God spoken to you? Where has God given you hope or forgiveness or correction and said, you need to change, or you need to come home to me?
And here’s the bigger question: who knows your story?
Do your children? Your grandchildren? Your nieces and nephews? Do they know the story of God’s relationship with you?
Because I’m going to tell you something. The fastest growing religious preference group in this country is the “nones”—people who don’t claim a faith. And then there are the “dones”—people who were church people and just burned out. Then there are the spiritual-but-not-religious folks.
They’re all looking for something. They’re spiritual nomads. They want faith. They want meaning. They just don’t see it in the church.
And you know what would change that? If they knew you. If they knew your story. If they knew that being Christian isn’t about being perfect or better than anyone else. It’s about knowing Jesus. It’s about that love changing you.
So tell your story. Let people know. Because they’re looking. And they might listen to you when they wouldn’t listen to me.
A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope