My Testimony
Introduction
In my 10 years of blogging, I have never really taken the time to give my testimony publicly on my websites. I have just never seen my own testimony as something that was very extravagant. It definitely was not a "The Cross and the Switchblade" type of story. I also suppose I have always just been focused on other projects that I never really cared to share my story. That is why I am sharing it in this post. I hope and pray that my experience of how God has changed my life will encourage you, as well.
My Early Life
My story began when I was a child. My grandfather was a United Methodist pastor, and he had always been a positive example in my life. He always pastored smaller congregations, and with this came a close-knit community. I remember going to church when I was a younger child, although not always to my grandfather's church. My mom and dad divorced before I was 2 years old, and my dad had custody of me for many weekends. I would go to church with my dad's side of the family, if we went to church at all. I do not remember the denomination of the church we attended, but I do remember the warm and friendly atmosphere.
As a younger child, I just did not get the Gospel. I simply missed the point. When I was a child, I had the impression that good people went to heaven and bad people went to hell. Of course, in my mind, good people were those who went to church and put money in the offering plate (my grandma always gave me a dollar to put into the offering plate each Sunday I went to my grandpa's church). Good people also had to do good things for others, learn the bible verse for the week, and do the kind stuff that Jesus did. If you had asked 8 year old me if I was a Christian, I would have said, "Yes, because I go to church and do good stuff." In short, I was a very flawed view of anthropology, as well as a flawed view of what it meant to be a Christian. This all changed later in life. For the time being, though, I had what I now recognize as a works-based theology.
I remember being in class when I first heard my teacher mention what happened on September 11, 2001. I had no idea what was going on. I was too young for that. All I knew at the time was that my mom, who was a soldier in the Army Reserve, was being sent to Fort Benning, Georgia in response. I was 10 years old at the time, and I still remember how worried I was about what was going to happen to my mom. After mom went to Fort Benning, I went to live with my grandparents. They had custody of me throughout the week, and my dad got custody of me on the weekends. It was during this time with my grandparents that I saw my grandfather live like Christ. To this day, I don't think I have ever met someone through whom Jesus shone more brightly than my grandfather. Despite this, I still didn't get it.
Not long after my mom was stationed at Fort Benning, my dad was arrested. I won't go into any of the details here, or probably ever on this blog, but I was the only one in my family that saw him get arrested. I was taking a martial arts class at the time to help me focus, since I was diagnosed with ADHD as a child. It was in this public setting that I saw officers come in and arrest my dad. After this happened, my dad's wife at the time was supposed to come and pick me up and take me home. After some time, it became apparent that she was not coming. The Instructor of the class had gone back into his office, and a short time later called me off of the floor. He was a godly man, and he explained to me what he knew about the situation that was going on, and asked if there was anyone else that he could call to come and pick me up. The only ones that I knew to call were my grandparents. I still remember how this elderly man, now a retired Grandmaster, stayed with me through it. I knew he was a Christian, and this small act had a lasting impact on me.
Moving Away
After the arrest, my family had a difficult decision to make. My dad's case had made the papers, and I had already experienced bullying in Elementary school, and some in Middle school. My mom thought this would make things worse on me, so she decided that it was best that I move down South to live with her. I fought her almost every step of the way. My friends were up here. My family was up here. My home was up here. I did not want to move. However, if I had never moved to the South, I don't think that I ever would have come to understand the Gospel.
I went to live with my mom, kicking and screaming the entire way. She was living right across the Chattahoochee River from Fort Benning, in a small town called Phenix City, Alabama. It was here that my mom began to take me to a small Baptist church. At first, I started going because I was told that sometimes the youth group played games after church. It was here that I heard the pastor preach about the need to have Jesus in your heart, and that was the only way to be saved. We are all sinners, and deserve God's judgment and wrath, but God sent Jesus to pay the price for our sins so that we could be reconciled to God. I don't know if that was the first time I had heard that message or not, but it was the first time that I clearly remember grasping what the pastor was trying to say. It wasn't long after I started attending that I responded to an altar call at the end of one of the services. The pastor prayed with me, and I understood that as the moment that I became a Christian.
Around the same time that we started attending this small Baptist church, my mom enrolled me in a private Christian school called Eastwood Christian School. It was located in Opelika, Alabama, approximately 30 minutes from where my mom and I lived. Here, I had daily Bible lessons each morning. It was here that I received much of my early understanding of what it meant to be a Christian. I am truly grateful for the foundation that I received while I was there. I graduated from Eastwood in 2009 at age 17.
The Call To Ministry
Around the time I graduated, I began to feel God calling me into ministry. I went to the pastor of the Baptist church that we were attending, and told him about the call. He told me to make a public statement about how I feel God calling me, and ask the church to support me in this call. I did this the next Sunday, and the church congregation was very supportive. Eventually, I began to lead different ministries. I started leading Sunday School classes and small groups. Over time, however, some things changed at the church. At first, I was told that I would not be licensed to the ministry because I was too young. The pastor of this church made it clear that, since deacons must be 21 years of age, he would not license anyone under 21 years of age to the ministry. While I was not entirely happy with this, I dealt with it. I then tried to get the pastor to mentor me in the interim until I could become licensed. I asked for (I believe) one meeting per week, for an hour. He agreed, but over time it became clear that he was intentionally "out of the office" whenever he knew it was time for our meeting. In short, the congregation supported my call to ministry, but the pastor stood in the way at almost every opportunity. Furthermore, there were some other changes in the church that were not making people too happy. My mom, sister, and I decided the best course of action was to find another church.
My mom and sister were the first two to begin attending another church. I stayed behind in the old church for a little while, holding out hope that maybe I could fix some of the other problems from the inside. Some of the poorer kids who attended youth felt left out because of the cliques that arose within the church. Perhaps I could be the one to change things? Others felt a call to ministry that wasn't being nourished. Could we grow together? I still taught Sunday School for the 4th-6th grade class. Could I possibly help change the culture in the students that were currently being taught so that they don't become cliquish, as the current youth group was? After trying for some time, I realized that I was not going to be able to change things. I eventually left, as well, but was left with quite a few questions about my faith. I moved away from home, moved in with some friends, and, honestly, began to despise the church and my mom, who had brought me to that church to begin with.
Leaving The Church And Leaving The Faith
The questions I had, coupled with the facts that I had been hurt by the church and that no one was really helping me find the answers, led to a crisis of faith. I left the old church, and, if I am honest, for a while I left the faith, as well. I began hanging out with people who did not care for my spiritual health, to say the least. These (now-former) friends were pagans, and it wasn't long until I was looking into their beliefs. Eventually, I began studying what they believe, which led me to question even more. Yet there were no answers for my questions in paganism.
Eventually, I started to question faith altogether. I went through a short period of time where I was essentially a practicing agnostic. I began questioning my old beliefs, both Christian and pagan. I became irritated when anyone brought up Jesus or church. I saw the church as a bunch of hypocrites who had stabbed me, as well as several others that I care about, in the back. I had no plans to go back, or to even consider going back.
Around this time, I began struggling to sleep. I could not get to sleep for the life of me. I went probably a couple of months at a time getting only a couple hours of sleep per night, at best. I could fit a nap in here and there, but for the most part, my sleep was incredibly limited. This didn't seem important to me as things unfolded, but it did become important later. At the time, I just thought that something was wrong with the couch I was sleeping on.
At the same time, I was struggling financially. I barely had food to eat. Some days, all I had was a single meal. It was all I could afford. I decided that I needed to get a second job. I began walking up and down the highway looking for a second job that would give me just enough money to be able to afford to have three full meals each day. I didn't have a car at the time. I could only go on foot or by bike.
One day, I was incredibly tired, hungry, and thirsty. I also had no money, and no real way to get any food or drink. There was a Taco Bell nearby that I had not applied to yet. They were also looking for help. My first thought was "If I go and apply at the Taco Bell, maybe they will give me a free drink and/or snack while I apply. I can always turn the job down later." I was not interested in working at Taco Bell.
As I entered Taco Bell, there was a lone man on the other side of the restaurant. He looked like he was waiting for his order. He motioned for me to go ahead, and I walked up to the cashier and asked for an application. I was annoyed when I was not offered something to drink, but didn't want to embarrass myself by walking out. I was handed a paper application, and went to one of the tables to sit down and fill it out. My goal was to fill it out as quickly as possible so that I could move on. I began filling out the application, and had no desire to be interrupted.
I was interrupted, however. I was interrupted by the man who was standing in the corner. As I filled out the application, the man walked up to me and asked how I was. I was annoyed, but I looked up for a brief moment and said, "I am good," before going back to the application. The man didn't take the hint. I just wanted to finish the application and leave. The man continued the conversation.
"Tell me, do you go to church anywhere?" Now I was incredibly annoyed. Of course not! I tried church and got hurt. Why would I go to church? Do I want to get hurt again? As politely as I could in my frustration, I looked up at the man. "No, I don't go to church. I used to, but I don't anymore. There are too many hypocrites." Surely he would stop bothering me now, right?
I was wrong. The man, whose name I never learned, looked at me and said, "Oh. I understand." I finally felt like he understood why I was not going back to church. Surely he would leave me alone at this point, right?
He began to close the conversation. He looked at me and said, "Okay. Can I just shake your hand, though?" I thought it was a weird question, but if it gets him off my back, I'll shake his hand. He extended his hands and I extended mine. As we shook hands, it felt like there was something in his hand. After our handshake, I looked at what this man had placed in my hand. It was a $20 bill.
"I thought you might be hungry, and I felt led by Jesus to give you money for food." Why did he think that? How did he know I was hungry? I didn't know how to reply, so I just said, "Thank you," as the man turned to walk away. I never even learned his name. It was then that I realized that he never received an order after I walked in the door. It was strange, almost like he wasn't waiting for food, but was waiting to talk to me.
As strange as it was, it didn't cause me to go back to church. That wouldn't happen until later. I continued to struggle with sleep, but eventually found another job at a place called Car-Mart. It was a used car lot where I was hired to detail cars. I had no experience, but the pay was decent and I would be able to afford to eat a full three meals each day.
At the same time I was hired, there was another man who was hired. His name was Justin. He was about as country as it gets, and would always have interesting stories to tell when he came into work. Every Monday, I would look forward to hearing about his adventures over the weekend. He was hired to transfer cars between car lots, and sometimes I would have to go with him. When he wasn't transferring cars, he would help me detail.
I will never forget one Friday when Justin came in and had a car to transfer. We were dropping one car off at another lot, and picking up two from that lot. Justin drove to the lot in the car we were transferring, and I stayed in the passenger seat. Justin was telling me about his upcoming plans for the weekend. Then the topic turned to church. He planned to go Sunday. I had no idea Justin was a Christian.
I looked at Justin and, kind of sarcastically, said, "Yeah, I used to go to church, but there are too many hypocrites there for me." Justin paused for a moment, and then, in the most serious tone I have ever heard from him, he said, "Sometimes people don't always live up to what is expected from them. It doesn't mean that their beliefs are wrong. Tell me, do you believe in Jesus, even if you don't go to church? Do you believe he is the Son of God?"
I paused for a moment and, wanting to avoid conflict, looked at him and said, "I really don't know." By this time we were in the parking lot. He parked the car, looked at me, and said, "Well, I think that maybe, just maybe he is. Perhaps you should give him another chance." There was no arguing. There was no putting me down. There was no telling me that I was going to hell. There was just an invitation to look again. I decided to take Justin's challenge, but to be honest, I didn't think I would find anything more than I found before. I was honestly kind of offended that he would suggest the idea to me. After all, wasn't this the same Jesus whose followers had caused hurt to me and my friends before? Why should I give a second thought to him? Yet, there was something different in the way that Justin talked to me. It wasn't harsh. It was kind.
That was one of the last things I heard from Justin. Soon afterwards, he found a better job and left. I only saw him briefly one time around a year after this conversation. By the time I saw Justin next, I had taken his advice, given Christianity a second chance, and become involved in church. Justin never realized that. I didn't get a chance to tell him what an impact he had on me. Justin, if you are reading this, thank you for your kindness that day.
My Return To The Faith
Let me back up again for a second, though. After my conversation with Justin, and remembering the conversation I had with the man at Taco Bell, I began to realize that not all Christians are hypocrites. There were actually some Christians who were kind and cared for people. I still had sleepless nights, but my attitude toward Christians in general was starting to change. Maybe they weren't all hypocrites after all?
I began looking at the teaching of Jesus more. The Sermon on the Mount was important to me. I always remembered that it was the "gold standard" for how Christians are to live. As I continued to study the life of Jesus, I came to a realization that Jesus taught us to live in a way that was far bigger than anything that I had seen lived out in real life by any Christian. That is, the people who had hurt me weren't being obedient to Jesus as they did so. Many of the problems that the church had could have been avoided by following the teaching of Jesus.
This led me to another realization: It wasn't Jesus that hurt me. It was people who had hurt me. For me to reject Jesus based on the actions of some of his followers would be like rejecting help from a non-profit because some people in non-profits are hypocrites. The logic wasn't there. Still, this wasn't enough to bring me back to Christianity and to the church, but it was enough for me to realize that my rejection of Christendom had been premature.
I began to ask questions and seek answers. Eventually, I was ready to give church another try, even though I wasn't 100% sold on coming back to Christ. I couldn't go back to my old church. Not only is that the place that I was hurt, which I wasn't ready to confront, but, knowing some of the people there, I would probably not have been forgiven for leaving in the first place. I needed a new place to go to "test the waters," so to speak.
I heard about a house church that some old friends from high school were starting. They met in houses, sang, had games each week, and, most importantly, weren't the kind of people to throw stones. I hadn't spoken to these friends in a couple of years, but I contacted one of them and asked when they were meeting and where. I still didn't have a way to get there, but I would worry about that later.
I talked to my mom, who I was just reconciling with, and asked her if I could borrow her car for the evening. "Why do you need my car?" she asked. I paused for a moment before replying, "Because some friends of mine are having church at their house, and I would like to go." When my mom heard this, she was overjoyed and practically threw the keys to me. I now had transportation to the house church.
I began attending this house church as often as I could. Through conversations with my friends and my own research, I began my journey back to the Christian faith. God had placed my friends in the right place at the right time to point me back to the faith.
When I turned back to Jesus and reconciled with my mom, I decided that I wanted to start attending church with her. One day, she randomly asked me, "Travis, I want to know something. While you were running from God, did you ever have any nights where you could not sleep for the life of you?" I thought about it. I remembered the nights where I got almost no sleep. I realized that I hadn't had a night like that in a little while. "Yes, I had nights like that all the time, but I couldn't figure out why," I responded. My mom looked at me and said, "Good. Because I was praying that God wouldn't let you get a good night's sleep until you came back to him." My sleepless nights had been a response to my mom's prayers.
When I went back to church, my mom and I ended up at Landmark Church of the Nazarene, just up the road from our previous church. Although I was a Christian again, and was in church again, I was afraid that I had blown God's call on my life. After all, didn't I turn my back on God when he was calling me to ministry? The pastor at this church took a very different approach to helping me discern God's call for my life. Eventually, I was reassured that God had not abandoned the call on my life. When I explained the call of God on my life as I understood it, this pastor recommended that I attend a Bible College, and pointed me to Nazarene Bible College. I was given the opportunity to lead in various roles, similar to what I had done at the Baptist church. I believe that it was this recommendation and practical experience that, more than anything else, helped me understand where God was calling me. I graduated from Nazarene Bible College in May of 2020, with a Bachelor's in Bible and Theology. I am currently pursuing an M.Div. from Wesley Biblical Seminary.
Entering Ministry
When I went back to church, my mom and I ended up at Landmark Church of the Nazarene, just up the road from our previous church. Although I was a Christian again, and was in church again, I was afraid that I had blown God's call on my life. After all, didn't I turn my back on God when he was calling me to ministry? The pastor at this church took a very different approach to helping me discern God's call for my life. Eventually, I was reassured that God had not abandoned the call on my life. When I explained the call of God on my life as I understood it, this pastor recommended that I attend a Bible College, and pointed me to Nazarene Bible College. I was given the opportunity to lead in various roles, similar to what I had done at the Baptist church. I believe that it was this recommendation and practical experience that, more than anything else, helped me understand where God was calling me. I graduated from Nazarene Bible College in May of 2020, with a Bachelor's in Bible and Theology. I am currently pursuing an M.Div. from Wesley Biblical Seminary.
In 2017, I felt led to leave Alabama and return to Indiana. It was here that I have found an excellent church community in the Columbus, Indiana First Church of the Nazarene. The pastors on staff here have helped nurture the call of God on my life and have been there for me through some of the more difficult times that I have faced. I have also found support from my wife, Abby.
In 2020, I began this website with the goal of providing Christian content that will encourage people in their walk with Christ. On February 1, 2022, I began my first day as the youth pastor of Brownstown Church of the Nazarene in Brownstown, Indiana. I was asked to come in and nurture the youth group that was there, with the hopes of growing it. That we did. In 16 months, we went from 4 students to over a dozen students that were connected to our youth group. I would have stayed, but God had different plans.
On August 6, 2023, I began my first day as Senior Pastor of the Georgetown Church of the Nazarene, a position that I currently hold as of the time of this update. God has been doing great things through our church. I have had the honor of welcoming new church members, baptizing, providing aid to people in our community, and preaching the message about Jesus. We are optimistic about what God is going to do for this church in the future.
If you have a testimony to share, feel free to leave it in the comments below. You never know how your story might affect someone else.
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