When I first met my pastor, he prayed over me and my husband, Matt.
The two of them had grown up together, but he didn’t know me very well, and I could tell because he specifically prayed over a ministry I was going to have one day while speaking to a crowd. I remember smiling and nodding while thinking, “You have SO got the wrong girl.”
My skeptical response was a reaction based on where I was in my walk with Jesus at the time.
You see, my salvation did not meet my expectations.
Over the past weekend, I was home with two sick kids during a snowstorm and—I’ll admit it—we watched a lot of movies. I tried fun games, hot chocolate, cookie baking, and dancing around in the living room, but somehow all of that only took two hours, with a very long 46 hours to go. So I just accepted the impending mom guilt and turned on Netflix.
The good news is that God loves using those moments when I’m wallowing in guilt to lay His Words on my heart. This weekend, it was all about the happily ever after. Movie after movie had the implied happily ever after we all know and love… for the good guys. But what about the bad guys?
“Someone’s breakthrough is attached to the testimony you’re too ashamed to share.”
These words hit me like a bucket of ice water. I’m about to be very honest about something I have only told my husband. I love sharing parts of my testimony. I love talking about how God moved in my life when we were told we might not be able to have kids. I love opening up about how God built my faith by leading me through a struggle with postpartum depression, a fear of tithing, and several years of doubting my salvation.
But there’s one part of my testimony that I have always been ashamed of