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Well, it took me a while to write this. I guess because I didn't feel up until now that I was qualified to make a testimonial. But here's the best I can sum up my life from what I've been told and from what I've experienced.

My mom always told me that I had been born through prayer, because I guess she wasn't supposed to have anymore babies. I think it was because when she did, they always turned up sickly at first and it was always kind of rough for her when birthing them. But she had said that she had really wanted me. She prayed to God to give her another kid. When she finally found out she was pregnant she just kind of said automatically, not in one of those playfully hopeful ways, that I was going to be a girl. My mom also gave me my name then. 'Serenity Christin Faith Wever' or 'God's Weaver of Peace and Faith'. While my mom was pregnant with me she said she talked to me a lot and that she hadn't felt so calm in any of her pregnancies, but that I barely moved. When it came time for me to be born my mother said I kicked up a storm coming out, but I didn't cry once (made a squeak though when they did that snot sucker thing to my nose xD). That I just starred at her like I had heard everything that she told me when I was still growing. And maybe I did. I've always felt in a sense that I was simply a part of my mom. Later on it turns out my mom was pretty bad sick after I was born. She weighed a little over a hundred and fourty pounds, I think, but I was the first healthy born child. Lol. I came out as a nice, tubby fat 7.5 lbs.

Growing up I went to church with my aunt Joanie. I loved spending the night with her and my cousin. I was even more excited to learn about God and stuff. I always got sick on the car rides home. Not fun at all. But as I grew up I started noticing the way that the preacher taught things. All I'd ever hear about was 'if you do _______ you'll go to Hell' or 'if you don't do _______ you'll go to Hell'. Basically, he was what some people would call a fire-and-brimestone preacher. He'd always judge people and condemn them. Even now I don't recall ever hearing one sermon that preached solely on God's love or his forgiveness. In fact, it kind of painted God out to be a cruel tyrant. So much so that I even began to believe he was. I came back to my aunt's house less and less often just to avoid being near that church. But I still came sometimes so I could play with my cousin, who was as close to a sister as I got. (My half-sister lived with her dad.) And when it came to church I did not hesitate to question and disagree with every little detail that went on. I became very misbehaved, according to them, in the church. I openly talked about me reading fantasy novels and liking rock n roll music as I got older. One time I remembered starting a huge debate and practically a shouting match because one of the Sunday School teachers told us kids that Shrek and Harry Potter were the devil's way of luring us in. I got waaaaaaay mad at that. And I told her that it was a bunch of BS for better words. I could pretty much say that I was kicked out of that church after that day and I NEVER went back.

But because of that one church's views my entire outlook on God and Christianity was completely utterly altered. I believed, in all truth, that God was a tyrant who judged quicker than he observed. I refused to go to Church and if anyone tried to make me, there were several times when this occurred, I would throw a huge fit so that everyone would back off from trying to make me. And this wasn't just with that one Church. It was any and all of them. To me if one church was bad than the rest were just the same. If anyone tried to bring up any sort of religious discussion I would become quick to anger and would end it immediately or threaten to start an all out argument. My brother had also hit me severely around this point in my life. He had done it earlier. It was a constant thing. I get mad at him I'd get hit. I say something he didn't like I'd get him. It became routine for the two of us to get into fist fights and I absolutely hated my brother with a passion. Finally I came to the point where I decided God wasn't going to be my boss. That I had NO religious boss and that the 'tyrant' didn't matter. All that mattered was that I try to be a good person. And I did try and other than these temper tantrums when it came to religion. Then I decided to get into Wicca.. Maybe I kind of did it as, pardon my language, a big middle finger to God. I did practices and got completely into it. I thought I had found my "right religion" seeing as it centered so heavily around peace in a way that I didn't think Christianity did. But I noticed a recurring thing that had happened for the entire time.. I cried myself to sleep. For no reason at all. I would simply lay in my bed and cry. And while I cried I kept say, "God, why do I have to be so mad at you?" The only response was more crying until I fell asleep. I also noticed about the time I had abandoned God, or tried to, that I went into a very deep depression. I hurt myself by hitting my head against the walls and scratching myself until I became red and sore. Sometimes I would even make it bleed. I was tugged out of my depression when I met the love of my life: Luis. He helped me learn that I wasn't to depend on what people said, only what my heart believed.

This happened for almost a year. Not quite a full one. I was on Paltalk messenger and browsing idly through chatrooms. I came across a teen chatroom for Christians. I don't remember why I went into the religious section only that I did. I ended up going into this room and I was greeted by a youth pastor, along with some teens my age. They asked me some few questions after idly talking with me. Was I a Christian? No. Was I saved? No. What religion was I? Wiccan. But they were very polite about it and didn't start condemning me immediately, like I had been expecting. Instead, for some reason or another I told them about my crying episodes. Pastor Sherry asked me what I thought about it. She didn't try to push me towards any direct answer. What I told her was: "I don't want to be angry at God. I don't want to run away anymore. But I can't see him as anything but cruel." Sherry told me that when I was ready, if I wanted, that she'd always be willing to say a little prayer with me and help me become saved. That this was a decision that only I could make and it had to come from the bottom of my heart. Then she asked me if I could stay to listen to the sermon, which was being given by one of the youth students. And ironically the topic of the sermon was "Letting Go of the Past". By the end I had been crying for a long while now and I felt as if God was speaking through Luke, the youth, so he could help me. And while the sermon was wrapping up I told Pastor Sherry that "I was ready for that prayer". I was saved that day and I felt that I could actually feel God and Jesus with me the entire thing. It was as if I had honestly and truly blind to the Christian faith and to God. I saw everything in a new light. I felt like I was Serenity again.

Several time I felt like something was trying to pull me away from God, but I always said a little prayer to myself and it would be gone. I don't cry anymore when I go to sleep. I go to a church that I agree with now and I have learned that just because I don't agree with everyone's beliefs doesn't mean I need to classify God as that same type of person. I'm out of my depression. Doing MUCH better in school and am completely happy. I've never felt better since. Luis, my personal Angel, and I have just had our two year anniversary at 11/22. We'll be shooting for three. Now that I look back, I see God left me little hints that he was with me. A big one being a religious story I wrote for school. And now I have one more thing to say:

Thank you God. Thank you Jesus.. You word wasn't lying when it said that you're closest to the downhearted and broken spirit. I'm glad that you made me to see the truth.I love you with all of my heart.