My Full Christian Testimony
God wants me to be free.
I wish I would’ve known that, and believed that, throughout my story.
I was born into a Christian home and for a long time, I didn’t believe that I had much of a testimony. I thought someone’s testimony was about their initial step to follow Christ, not necessarily about the ups and downs of their ongoing walk with Him.
But miracles don’t cease when you enter into a relationship with Jesus, that’s where they begin!
With that liberating thought in mind, I reviewed my personal story and divided it into seven distinct spiritual seasons:
Meeting Jesus at age 6
Body and health struggles as a teen
The deep calling to purity and to attend Westmont College
My toxic first relationship and the serial dating which followed
Receiving Christ’s protection at two major crossroads
Seeing God work when the unexpected hits
Accepting the call to financial and personal freedom
PS - For a deep dive into my college testimony (a story of God’s financial provision), or my dating testimony (a story of being called out of sexual “grey areas”), you can read the blog post here or watch this video.
Meeting Jesus at age 6
I was born at home on July 24, 1995 in San Jose, California.
My parents were Christians and they made the early decision to home-school their kids. I was second oldest and would soon be joined by two more sisters and a younger brother.
When I was 4-years-old, my family moved across the country to Cumberland, Virginia. My dad is from the Bay Area and my mom is from North Carolina, so we were moving from one side of the family to the other. Rural Virginia is where my first memories started forming while playing outside, climbing trees, and swinging on rope swings.
As part of our home-school education, my parents would sometimes act out scenes from the Bible. And here’s where my “born again” story starts (if you’re reading this and you’re not already a Christian, that phrase can sound a bit off-putting. But it’s just referring to a spiritual beginning, as opposed to a physical beginning).
One day, my dad came out to the living room dressed in a white robe to reenact a Bible scene. He was pretending to be Jesus and all of us kids were supposed to act like soldiers and attack Jesus (just like they did before his crucifixion). Instead of joining my siblings who were all giggling and play-punching my dad, I ran over to the couch, sat down, and cried. I remember saying: “I don’t want to hurt Jesus!”
My mom came over to me and we prayed together. She explained salvation to me, that all I had to do was
if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. - Romans 10:9
I asked Jesus into my heart that day and I still remember the boldness which followed.
I blasted Casting Crowns CDs on my boom box, sung loudly and proudly (and very off-key), and even made time to read my Bible on my own. At that time, my parents attended a home church with a few other families. I specifically remember sharing Bible verses with the whole group, and bless their hearts for listening as I stumbled over the words (you know, being 6 and all).
In those very early days, I was not ashamed or embarrassed by my faith. I loved it and wanted to share it with the world!
Body and health struggles as a teen
Unfortunately that bold season didn’t last long.
When I was 8, my family moved across the country a second time. We landed in Carson City, Nevada (of all places), and I also discovered what “school kids” were for the first time.
Early on, my mom signed us kids up for various co-ops and homeschool groups. I made friends there who invited me to youth group, and that’s where I received my regular dose of Jesus.
As a family, however, we didn’t attend church regularly growing up. My parents preferred their previous home church structure, so youth group was my safe place and also my own personal decision. I fell in love with worship during those years and especially loved the summer and winter camps I attended as a teen.
One summer, in particular, I went with my youth group to a summer camp in Hume Lake, California when I was 12. There I responded to an alter call and re-committed my life to Jesus. I felt distant from him in the chaos of moving from Virginia to Nevada, and I felt drawn to invite him into my heart again.
That decision manifested less boldly than the first, but this time, I was devoted. I regularly woke up extra early to read my Bible and write in my prayer journal before anyone else in my family was up. God encouraged me, challenged me, and grew me in those quiet hours with him. That laid the foundation of my faith that I would build on throughout high school, college, post-college, marriage, and my professional career.
During those teen years, I remember two distinct body struggles (one internal and one external). Even as I grew in my relationship with Christ, my insecurities sprouted lies that I battled to address.
On an internal-level, I was experiencing intense digestive issues that would later be diagnosed as IBS.
I was very young when I got my first really upset stomach, and I didn’t know why it started or how to handle it. I would sit in the bathroom for hours and literally pray: “I’m SO sorry God! I don’t know what I did… but I’m SO sorry.” I felt like God was punishing me with the pain. I didn’t have the understanding or vocabulary to realize how wrong I was.
On an external-level, I was self-conscious about my body and started practiced restrictive eating.
The initial, intrusive, “I look fat” thoughts started when I began ballet at 13. It wasn’t instantaneous, but it was a slow burn as I spent weeks and months looking at my body in a mirror, exposed in tights, compared next to five other girls my age.
I skipped meals, lost weight, and was applauded for it. I remember hearing things like, “wow Jenna! You look so tiny” and feeling proud of that. I felt guilty when my belly felt full, and I always tried to under-eat. I wanted to be “petite", so I weighed myself daily and felt good when I dropped on the scale.
Restrictive eating is a very, very slippery slope. And even though I criticized my own weight while I was thin as a rail, I don’t think my conscious ever let me really believe those lies. As I continued to pursue Christ, it became harder and harder to believe blatant lies. The change in thought-patterns and eating-patterns slowly shifted until I was completely liberated from that false image of myself.
As I was exiting this season of body guilt, one youth pastor spoke something over that I will never forget. I was attending a summer camp (either 15 or 16 years old), and he opened up a few verses from Timothy. Then he said,
Jenna. You’re a leader. But leaders aren’t necessarily the loudest or the boldest… sometimes the most effective leaders lead by example. And that’s what you do, you set the pace in the choices you make and the life you lead. Keep it up!
Those words stayed with me long past that summer camp. I earnestly wanted to live up to them.
The deep calling to purity and to attend Westmont College
The struggle with body image and the call to purity overlapped in my teen years.
Shortly after I responded to the Hume Lake alter call, I got my hands on the book I Kissed Dating Goodbye by Joshua Harris. Little 13 year-old-me was definitely a romantic (well, I still am), and I was eager and willing to wait patiently for my Mr. Right to ride in on his white steed (cue aggressive foreshadowing).
I asked my parents to gift me a purity ring for my 13th birthday and I wore that ring on my left finger from 13-18. I didn’t stop wearing it because I lost my virginity (really) I actually stopped wearing it because I was about to head off to college. I was afraid of the questions and the awkward answers I would have to give everyone. So to avoid all that, I stored it away (if you’re interested in hearing more about my purity story and dating testimony, I dive into the details on YouTube. )
Now, I didn’t just move off to my local, state school… I felt a very specific call to attend Westmont College. It was definitely not in my price range, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling that I needed to go. I had been college searching for months and applied to four other schools, but when I came across Westmont, and when I visited their campus, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was meant to be there. It was like this itch I couldn’t scratch, so I made the financial leap of faith and went (with mixed support from my parents).
Looking back at that decision now, I know that I heard rightly. What is it easy? No. Was it worth it? Absolutely.
God pulled some incredible strings to keep me at Westmont College for all four years of my education. Some of that provision came from the obedience of me rolling up my sleeves and getting to work, but truly countless doors opened to allow me to stay: unexpected gifts from extended family and from strangers, an accident on my paperwork that made it so that I received TWICE the grant money that I should have received for an entire year, and even an incredible Christian women offering to let me live with her for three semesters 100% rent free. God absolutely provided — he is my Jehovah Jireh through and through.
As I pursued Jesus more, he called me to difficult and abundant paths of faith. I knew I was meant to save myself for my future husband and I knew that I was meant to attended Westmont College. But my faith remained untested… it wasn’t until I moved off to Santa Barbara that I would experience my first true trials in life.
My toxic first relationship and the serial dating that followed
Two months into attending Westmont College, I started dating the guy who would become my first boyfriend (a moment of silence for past me).
This person definitely took advantage of the naivety that came with my purity. I was VERY sheltered and because of that, ill-equipped to handle the temptations and obstacles I faced. I had more freedom than I could handle and I didn’t have the tools to establish a support system in this new place. I was isolated and I was making terrible decisions when presented with “you’re beautiful” ‘s and “I love you” ‘s. The novelty of the situation was exciting and I quickly became involved in what would become an emotionally abusive and sexually toxic relationship.
Emotionally, I was isolated from friends and family and lead to believe that my boyfriend was the only one I could trust. He made me feel guilty for wearing certain things and doing certain things and he often deprived me of sleep to study. That last one sounds odd, but the more sleep-deprived was, the less self-control I had. He would use those moments of self-deprived weakness to push me further and further sexually.
After we had our first kiss, I felt like there was no escape from the relationship. I expressed my desire to save my first kiss until engagement… but he made me feel ridiculous for setting that boundary. I started to believe that I was the wrong one… like no one in their right might would save their first kiss for engagement. So I kissed him, and I wish I could say that was the end of the compromises I made. Thankfully, we didn’t actually sleep together… but we did have many sexually intimate experiences. Each time I left feeling dirty and guilty, saying, “look, we can’t do that again.” And then we did it again.
I knew our patterns were toxic… but I couldn’t fathom being abused by someone you loved. If you love him, and he loves you, then any hurt is just a misunderstanding, right? (Hint: that’s false)
I tried to break up with him many times, but he responded with huge bursts of emotion: either stalking me by throwing rocks at my dorm window, or showing up outside my classroom “to talk”; or by threatening to harm himself out of love for me. It wasn’t easy for me to cut him out of my life, so I kept letting him back in.
I was finally able to commit to the decision when I moved back home for the summer. He got me a promise ring before I left, and only dread filled my soul when I accepted it. So one month later I called it off, a few weeks before my 19th birthday.
During this season, my relationship with my parents and with scripture became damaged and murky. My parents saw the unhealthy patterns of our relationship and wanted it to end. My then-boyfriend flashed Bible verses at me that supported us staying together and my parents presented Bible verses that said the literal opposite. Both said: “I prayed about it, and this is what God is telling me.” And both opinions were contradicting each other. “Don’t you trust me,” they said, “don’t you know I love you”?
I felt backed into a corner, and for seven months, I lived in pure guilt and emotionally torment. I was presented with many ultimatums: Break up with him, or break up with the family… If you move back home for the summer, we’re done… This back-and-forth turned me off to scripture. The place that felt safe was now a place of confusion and pain.
My current pastor recently said something so true about ultimatums: “when someone is presented with an ultimatum, their only two options are compliance and rebellion.” So for seven months, I choose rebellion. Then over that dark summer, when the break up was final, I was forced into compliance. I didn’t feel “good” about my choice. It felt like no matter what I did, I lost.
In hindsight, of course I didn’t lose… but truth felt hazy, none-the-less perspective and wisdom.
After that, I decided I would be single for a year. No dates, no crushes, no nothing. I wish I did it with a heart of devotion and gratitude, but my relationship with Jesus was damaged. I did lean on him for healing during the breakup, but clarity and peace still felt far from me.
So I was single as a pringle during my sophomore year of college. I turned down dates from sweet guys because I wasn’t ready. When I decided that I was ready, it wasn’t in the right context. I felt scared by the whole date-with-the-intention-of-marriage thing, so I simply wanted to date for fun. I wanted to know what it was like to date and just laugh and flirt and dance and joke around with each other.
When I went to Paris to study abroad in Spring of 2016, I did just that.
I went from absolutely no dating, to serial dating. I dated and danced and kissed and woke up the next day to do it again with a new guy. I still wasn’t having sex, but I was getting as close to the line as I could get. The grey area was my territory and a guilty conscience was my friend.
I didn’t know where I belonged, but I did know that I wasn’t living God’s best for me.
I went on like this for a while, but larger red flags did eventually start popping up. I was dating a guy consistently for three months my senior year and he was developing feelings… I knew I didn’t feel the same way, and bluntly speaking: I used him. I didn’t realize how good I had become at “faking it” until I genuinely hurt someone. I felt terrible and knew that I did need to change.
Receiving Christ’s protection at two major crossroads
About the same time I felt called to change, I was presented with two major life decisions that would determine my path.
Decision #1 was whether to keep living in Santa Barbara after graduation or to move back home. I actually graduated a semester early, so all of my friends were still in school for at least the next semester. My heart and my party habits were desperately pulling me to stay. I didn’t have any good friends back home (that were in my same life-season, that is), and I was able to live rent-free for another 6 months in Santa Barbara. The alternative seemed not only boring, but dreadful. Move back in with my PARENTS? Ew.
But God spoke to me through me dad and through my slowly cracking heart. I was going to church consistently again my Senior year and sermon after sermon hit home. My dad also called me up one day and said that he felt strongly that I needed to move home after graduation. God confirmed that feeling by shifting my heart every time I asked him about it. Just like the decision to go to Westmont College felt obvious, the decision to move back home felt the same.
So, I did.
I moved back home in December of 2016 and filled my calendar that spring with travel plans to try to distract myself from my intense lack of direction. My travel heart wanted to move to a big city after my experience studying in Paris, and New York City became my new mental obsession.
I traveled to New York City with some friends, and after coming home, I was offered a paid internship following some networking. The thing is, it was only available for the summer (as in two months from then). I had to take it or leave it and hope that a door opened in the fall to keep working and living there. So… there came Decision #2: to move to NYC or to stay in my hometown?
Instead of peace being the answer, like Decision #1, doors of opportunity became my answer for Decision #2. I prayed God would open them… but nothing moved.
The finances just weren’t added up to get an apartment that quickly. Sure, I didn’t have many people back home… but I really didn’t have anyone in New York City. Also, post-college, I was VERY broke.
I made the decision to stay home.
Looking back, I see that both of these crossroads were VITAL. God was protecting me from walking down a reckless path and he was leading me down a road where I would encounter Him.
By living in Nevada again, I actually met and fell in love with my now husband, Paul.
If I would’ve been in Santa Barbara for six more months, or if I would’ve lived in New York City for even just the summer, who knows where I would be? What decisions I would’ve made after? If my husband and I would’ve ever met?
Without me knowing it, God was answering a prayer that I had grown too discouraged to pray again: in the years I was pursuing wrong relationships, he was preparing my perfect match. Never had I felt more respected and loved than I do when I’m with Paul.
Seeing God work when the unexpected hits
One year into Paul and I’s marriage, we received some devastating news that he lost his dream job.
This completely caught us off guard. Not only because it marked the end of a career path that we were so certain that we were both headed down, but by losing the job, we were also in a position of losing a community.
In order to stay financially above water while we prayed about our next move, I kept my job there for a season. That decision was complicated and painful — staying in a place that has rejected your other half is intensely personal. I felt numb and alone. I wish I could say that I handled it with grace, but a deep anger welled up inside me. I was more stressed than I had ever been and that stress manifested itself in my body: I had regular acne, headaches, and stomach aches that were pretty debilitating.
But even with this massive pivot of life-direction… I knew that God was working it out for our good. I’ve seen him do it time and time again, so I had confidence that the pain of the season wasn’t being wasted. It was a low, low valley — but even there I felt God’s presence.
The lessons I learned there were tough: that gossip causes a nasty toxicity that’s difficult to break free from, that jobs and mentors aren’t meant to be idolized, that forgiveness is a process and it’s okay to keep doing it again and again and again, that injustice is apart of this fallen world, and that even in the lowest places there are still bright lights.
God promised to redeem that situation, and he’s absolutely proven faithful.
Accepting the call to financial and personal freedom
Thankfully, we didn’t have to stay in that dark valley for long.
God showed off as our redeemer and provider. While the world was spinning with news of a new virus, Paul and I were motivated that same month in March of 2020 to start paying off our financial loans. We felt called to be 100% debt free, and as of last month, we officially achieved that goal!
His grace and provision in the last few months has been so apparent. It’s impossible deny his presence in our lives. The more we budgeted and gave money away (we started tithing at the start of our financial journey), the more provision we received in the form of bonuses, raises, job offers and job transitions.
Looking back at my story and my walk with Christ through the years, I can see now how greatly I value freedom. I was running from Christ thinking that I was running toward freedom, but in reality, I was just running in circles. I was trapped with a false image of
what my body was suppose to look like.
what my first relationship was suppose to feel like.
what it meant to have fun while dating.
what life looked like after college as an adult.
what it meant to live out your purpose.
While I was walking through each of the major life trials I faced, God saw me on the other side. He knew I’d make it through stronger and wiser than before.
The body image struggles I had as a teen gave me confidence to embrace true health as an adult
The hurt I experienced in my first relationship has given me the perspective to speak into the lives of so many other women going through similar things
The recklessness I had while dating prepared my heart to properly love and respect my now husband
The rough work environment I faced taught me priceless lessons in perseverance, patience, and forgiveness
I only regret not letting Christ in more. I wish I would’ve realized sooner that him “saving me” is not a one time act — it’s an extended trust fall that happens again and again.
I’ve really been experiencing His goodness this past year. Not necessarily in life circumstances, but in the graces and gifts of the Holy Spirit regardless of circumstance. When I pray for joy, I receive joy abundantly. When I pray for peace, I receive peace overflowing. And now my heart wants to give what I have been given back to Him. I want to share his goodness with other humans and abide in love and overflow with thanksgiving.
This year marks my 20th anniversary with Jesus. 20 years of being in communion and relationship with a good, good God… and an eternity to go.
If you’ve read this far, I want to say a big, huge thank you. Jesus sees you and loves you. You are not alone. All He wants from you is your heart. The rest will take care of itself.
