Testimony of a "Good Person"

Writer Author  Celena Janton
Christian Article : Personal Testimony  - Fiction  No

Christian Author Writer I wasn’t raised in church… but my parent’s raised me with enough morals to give me the idea that I was a very “good person.” After all, I prayed a little prayer each night in hopes that God would remember my family and that He would forgive whatever sins I had committed that day. I joined the Air Force directly out of high school. It was a way to pay for college and see the world. I had my future mapped out. I would complete four years in the military, head to Art school in California, and find a wonderful artist prince charming there, marry him, and live happily ever after.

In boot camp, my first and what would be only set of orders sent me to Arizona. Arizona? I thought of cowboys sitting around fires, eating beans, lying on old blankets with their horses tied up around them. I thought of cacti and dirt. And, sure enough, when I got off the plane after completing basic training and my technical schools, much dirt and many cacti surrounded me. Once on base, I thought I was in luxury. It seemed that every guy who saw me wanted to date me. I had a wonderful boyfriend, Mike, but cheated on him three times, finally breaking up with him so that I could date around. It was very sad for me, and I cried many nights, missing him. We remained friends and were pen pals when he went to Saudi Arabia for four months.

During Mike’s stay in the “big sandbox”, I had a new boyfriend every few days as I searched for a “prince” to fill the gap that seemed to be growing ever wider in my heart. I seemed so happy to the world, and usually I was. But sometimes, when I was alone on a night that I didn’t happen to have a date, I would lean over the balcony outside my room and gaze at the clear, Arizona sky. I would pray. Oh, I thought about God once in awhile. When I needed something, I thought maybe He cared a little bit about me. Or, when I was frustrated, I would take it out on Him. I remember one instance when I was leaning over that balcony, praying in my desperate way. “God, I am so lonely. I need someone. I need that prince. Where is he? Will he come to me on a horse and sweep me off my feet?” I sighed and went into my room. A few hours later, the next-door neighbor guy, who was very cute, asked me to go with him for a few drinks. I went. It was a little more than a few drinks! I went to bed that night feeling pretty terrible, and woke up feeling light-headed. It was about 4:00 in the afternoon when I finally woke. I dressed and showered to head to the mess hall for dinner. As I got ready, I remembered that it had been sometime since I had said that little prayer I used to pray every night before I went to bed. I scolded myself. I realized I was getting pretty bad, drinking so much and having so many boyfriends, and not even praying for forgiveness. I just seemed to be going downhill, and there was no “prince” in sight. I remember distinctly that, as I locked my door that evening, I prayed and asked God to send someone to invite me to church. For some reason, I wanted to go to church, but knew that none of my friends would like that idea. As soon as I arrived at the mess hall, a guy I had met at work a few months ago came up to me in line and said, “Hey, Celena. Do you want to go to church with me and my friend tonight?”

I looked at him, not answering for a minute. I finally said, “You have church at night?”

He said, “Well, it’s a concert. We usually do have church Wednesday nights, though.”

I said, “Okay, I’ll come.”

“You will?” He looked surprised.

We ordered our food to go and headed to his friend’s room to wait until it was time to go to church. I was amazed at how quickly God had answered my prayer. That night at church, I saw the band “Petra.” To be honest, it wasn’t my kind of music. I was glad to be in church, had liked singing the upbeat songs at the beginning of the service, but looked forward to crashing into my bed when I got home. After the music was over, we were asked to bow our heads as the preacher came to the podium. Every word he said was like a tug on my heart. “Jesus died for you, so that you could live. He can change your life. The bible says that today is the day of salvation. Are you away from God? If you would like to give your life to Him, just signify that with an uplifted hand.” My hands were shaky, I had goose bumps, and my heart was beating so fast! I knew I should lift my hand, but I was so nervous that I didn’t. The girl next to me leaned over and asked me if I wanted to go to the altar and pray. I was so grateful! I nodded. So I prayed the sinner’s prayer that night. While I didn’t realize how much God would later mean to me, that I would really know Him as a personal Lord and Savior, I took that step that I knew I needed to take, and I found the true Prince. God began to work quickly in my life. I stopped partying, broke up with my many boy friends, and began to tell my old friends about what Jesus had done in my life. I wrote letters to Mike in Saudi Arabia, explaining salvation to him. He talked to a chaplain there, on the other side of the world, and gave his life to Jesus also. When he came back, we remained friends and prayed for God’s will. After a few months, we decided to start our relationship again. This time is was different. We were faithful to God and each other, and we were pure. We didn’t kiss again until two years later when we stood at the altar to be married. The plans I had so carefully mapped out before my salvation have changed. I know that God wants me to stay in Arizona with my new church family and I am now working toward a degree in Creative Writing so that I can use my talents for Him. I’m so grateful for what God has done in my life in only four short years and that He continues to change me, and I will be faithful to him all the days of my life.

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About the Writer Author
Email: celenajanton@yahoo.com
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