mY STORY

For me personally, there is a big difference in knowing God and knowing about God. Since childhood, I remember going to church only on Christmas and Easter. It was a tradition, nothing more. I performed all the rituals, but I had no idea who God was: that He is alive, that He wanted to have a relationship with me, that Jesus died for me 2,000 years ago and rose from the dead for my justification. I did not know that Jesus is not only a historical figure, but He is alive today. I didn't know  about the fact that Christianity is not simply made of traditions and rituals performed twice a year, but it is a way of life. When I finally came to this realization one day, my life completely changed.

I was 14 years old when I first came to the Christian Evangelical Pentecostal Church. My mother worked as a cosmetologist, and a woman who was a believer once came in for procedures. She told my mother about Jesus as the living God, gave her a Bible, and invited her to come to church. At the time, my mother and I were going through a very difficult life situation, but my mother agreed to come to church one Sunday. A week later I came with her, but I did not repent immediately.

I remember the day I gave my life to Jesus very well. At that time, I had been going to church for six months, but I did not feel that I was forgiven and that Jesus lived in my heart. After the service, the pastor did an altar call, and I asked my mother: "Can I come forward and pray?" I had already done it before (although I didn't feel like it was sincere), so my mother replied: "Probably not. You’ve already repented" (we were new converts 😊). I was standing in the church, feeling a huge weight on my soul. I realized that I could no longer live with this, and on the same day I decided to go forward to the stage anyway. I approached the pastor and asked him to lead me in the prayer of repentance. When he prayed for me, I began to cry and only stopped after two and a half hours. I could feel Jesus actually cleaning me from the inside, healing my heart, and, as we sang in church, "make me whiter than snow.”

As a teenager, I was so broken inside that I was sure I needed someone more than a person, someone who would not simply touch my physical body and hug me because they feel sorry for me  – but someone who would touch my broken heart and my dying soul. I felt like I was carrying a graveyard inside of me. No one could see it, because I was hiding behind a mask. The only One who was able to notice it and see through all my masks; the only One who was able to resurrect my soul, was Jesus.

I needed God, because of the many events that already took place in my life at the age of 15. It was as if I died inside. I wanted to live, not exist, and it was He who breathed this life into me.

Is there something special about me? No. I'm an ordinary girl. And the best thing about me is that I love Jesus. He is my strength, He is my joy, and I am ready to give my whole life for Him, simply because I am grateful to Him. I do not know how to express my gratitude to Him, except to bow to Him with my youth, my time, my talents, and my whole life.

Once, He gave me a helping hand when no one extended one. Once, He resurrected the graveyard inside my soul and my heart. From that moment on, I live, and I live for Him. My heart is beating for Him.

Am I afraid to live in Africa, far away from my homeland? No. I no longer live for my city – I live for another city, for the Heavenly Jerusalem that Jesus has prepared for all those who believe in Him. I want to belong entirely to Him, I want to be His heart, His hands, and His voice.

People ask me: "How is it possible for a girl of your age to build a church in a remote village in Africa?" My answer is: "Impossible." It's impossible for me. But He is able to do it through me, because I once told my Jesus: "Here I am, send me. I want to serve You without compromise. I want to go where no one wants to go. I want to bring hope to those who have been abandoned by everyone. I want to show Your love in places where people don't know what that word means." And He heard me. And He works through me…

Heidi Baker (a missionary who devoted herself to the Lord completely) once said: "People tell me that I do great things, but I, like a little girl, stand on the feet of my heavenly Father: He holds my hands from above, and I walk on His feet, wherever He leads me. People think it is me, but it's Him. I'm just following in His footsteps." I also feel like a little girl standing on my Dad's feet, and He's leading me. It's not me. I'm not a hero – I'm a human who loves Jesus. I have a passion to serve Him and a desire to find myself at His feet. I know how much He loved me, forgave me, and how He remained faithful when I was unfaithful. Jesus died for my smile, He wanted me to be happy. Now it's my turn to live for Him and to please Him by bringing His people back to the Father's house. Not because I have to, but because I love Him. He is my only hero. He’s worth laying down my whole life before Him. Love has a face, love has eyes, love has hands, love has a voice, love has a heart, and love has a name. That name is Jesus Christ. I want to look at Him, bow my head and my will before Him, and to keep going after Him wherever He may take me... With gratitude, with awe. Without compromise. Until the very end... I belong to Him completely!