My testimony, pt. 1

I began writing my testimony down about 2 months ago, and neglected to put it up on the blog.The entire thing is a bit long, so I've decided to split it into two separate posts. I sincerely hope that this encourages someone out there. Be blessed.

JBB

As I sit on an Washington, D.C.-bound Amtrak, a little more than 24 hours away, God willing, from an airplane flight to Great Britain, my heart is filled with more testimonies than my fingers can type. Christ really snatched my life (though He has clearly always had His hands on me) about 3 months ago. Though I grew up in the church, knew all the Black Baptist catchphrases ("picked me up, turned me around, placed my feet on solid ground" and the like), and professed Jesus as my Lord and Savior when I was about 9 or 10 years old, I can’t say I ever committed to the notion that my everyday lifestyle was meant to serve as a reflection of Christ’s love.
To be quite frank, it just seemed like too much work.

I already didn’t drink, smoke or curse much, so I figured I was home free. 21 years old, churchgoing, a respected performer, abstaining till marriage and en route to a degree from an Ivy League University? I was the man. Though I still struggled mightily with self-esteem, I had no doubts whatsoever about my relationship with God. Nobody was seeing my prayer game, son. Nobody. Like clockwork, I talked to the Lord every night before I went to bed. According to everyone around me, I was pious. Righteous. A good person.

It wasn’t until this last summer that I realized how much of my life was dedicated to, well…me. When it came to shows, the end goal was always to accrue as much glory as possible for myself. I wanted positive feedback from my audience, needed it. Without the roar of the crowd, I reverted back to being that frail, corny guy that everyone used to make fun of. The “articulate” one, with the high-water corduroys and polo shirts. Low self-image, high GPA. This was my M.O., and no one was going to change it. Or, so I thought.

If someone asked me to tell them the exact day I fully committed my life to Christ, I couldn’t. I do remember the week, though. It was sometime in late July. Everett Aaron Benjamin (a young man I used to inwardly critique quite often for his attire and outspoken approach to faith) invited me to attend a gospel hip-hop concert with him and a few of his friends. I had already, quite reluctantly, been to Bible study at Mr. Benjamin’s house a couple of times, so I figured one more Christ-centered outing couldn’t hurt. It was just music, right?

I knew things were about to get crazy as soon as Nia and Brianna walked in the door to Everett’s apartment. They had this whole lantern-heart, unspeakable joy thing going, you know? I quite literally couldn’t remember the last time I had seen two young women walk into a place and felt the energy shift, as if the space was re-orienting itself just to make room for them. It made me a bit uneasy, but I was smooth about it. Real Teddy Pendergrass-like. After hanging out in Ev’s spot for about an hour or so, it was time to leave for the concert. Before I could head out the door, I heard someone say, “let’s pray about tonight.” Now, as a lifelong church-boy, I was used to prayer; I was a downright professional at it. But who prayed about stuff like this? About “being used by the Lord” and “hoping that He gets the glory”? Little did I know, the prayer circle that afternoon was just the beginning.

[check pt. 2 here: My testimony, pt. 2]