My Testimony

The story of who I was before and after meeting Jesus.

Introduction: What is a Testimony?

Revelation 12:11 “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death.”

The idea of a testimony dates back to ancient times. Originally, a testimony referred to something you would say that serves as proof of something undeniably true, given under an oath of honesty, much like in modern-day court. The same idea holds true today, but some may define the word as the story of how they came to know Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior. I like to simultaneously apply both definitions. If you consider the context of the verse above, our testimony is both our story of how the Blood of the Lamb cleansed us from the stain of our sin and proof of His power to change our desires and lives as we know them.

With all that being said, this is my testimony.

Ages 0-1: Origins

Jeremiah 1:5a “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you;”

I have more stories from before I could remember than most other people. My mom has shared these specific ones with me, and I find them very interesting, showcasing the glory and power of God.

My first story starts about a year before I was born. At that time, my parents already had two kids (my older brother and sister) and had recently given their lives to Christ. One night, my mom had a vivid and almost lifelike dream where she had a son named "Noah." Upon waking up, she knew that they would have another child, a boy they would name "Noah." Three months after the dream, she became pregnant, and nine months later, I was born. My middle name is Gabriel, meaning "mighty man of God," chosen for this very reason. I like to say that God Himself named me since hearing this story.

Another intriguing name story occurred when my mother attended a women's conference at the church they were attending at the time, while I was still an infant. My mom had to bring me along since I was too young to be away from her for long. During the conference, the woman on stage teaching suddenly paused and exclaimed, "There is a mighty man of God in this room." It was an unusual thing to say at a women's conference where no men were allowed. Indeed, there were no men present, only a young infant whose middle name perfectly reflected the woman's description.

I'm not sure how much significance these stories and moments hold in my life, but they have definitely intrigued me and led me to ponder the glory of the Lord and His understanding of what is to come.

Ages 1-6: False Hope

Proverbs 3:24 “If you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.”

When I was very young, I have very few memories, and the ones I do remember all seem to have taken place in my room at night. One particular memory stands out: I recall waking up in sheer terror, glancing at the window sill in my room, and seeing what I believed to be a giant spider crawling down towards me. Looking back on that memory now, I can almost confirm that the spider was actually outside and probably just a harmless wolf spider.

Nightmares were a nightly occurrence for me during my early years. They happened so frequently that I would wake my mom up every single night. She reached a point where she turned to the scriptures and attempted to explain to me the concept of the "sword of the spirit" and the "shield of faith." She even went as far as making tin foil and cardboard versions of them for me to keep under my pillow at night. As a five-year-old, I found it fascinating that an invisible good person would come to my rescue when I was scared. Another strategy my mom employed was having me memorize scripture. The verse mentioned above was the first verse she taught me, and it became the first one I ever memorized. I remember tightly clutching the "sword" and the "shield," repeating that verse over and over until I could finally fall asleep.

For a while, the nightmares subsided until one night when I learned about the concept of hell. I'm sure many who grew up in a Christian home or attended church can relate to the realization that there is a place where all the wicked people go and suffer in eternal flames. Naturally, this notion frightened me, and I became determined to avoid ending up there. With the fear of death keeping me awake, I began asking my older brother, who was eight at the time, some questions about how to obtain eternal fire insurance. The answer was surprisingly simple: just say a few words, and you're in the clear. I uttered those words, feeling a sense of safety, but ultimately remained unchanged and still distant from a genuine relationship with Christ. That was the day I thought I had been saved.

Ages 6-12: Anger and Lust

Ephesians 4:26 “Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger”

During that specific period of my life, I struggled with intense anger issues. I vividly remember being unable to control or halt myself from experiencing intense outbursts of rage. I lacked a relationship with Christ and had no genuine connections with other individuals in my life. My interactions remained superficial, and I endured a fair amount of bullying. Regrettably, I must acknowledge that I also became a bully during this period, exhibiting traits such as meanness, roughness, manipulation, anger, and overall unpleasantness. I grappled with my own behavior because I longed for the friendships that seemed to exist among my peers. However, I struggled to relate to their interests and couldn't find enjoyment in the things they found fun. Even when I did participate, I would often complain, whine, and become extremely upset if someone claimed that I had lost at a game or sport, regardless of whether it was true.

Between the ages of 6 and 8, my family moved three times. However, when we finally settled in Charlotte, NC, I was able to establish deeper roots and forge lasting friendships. To this day, I maintain contact with those friends I made at church during my younger years. I genuinely believe that if it weren't for these friendships, I would have likely fallen into even deeper sin at an earlier stage.

With that being said, when I was 8 years old, I discovered porn for the first time. I became instantly addicted, and after some time, I taught myself how to satisfy myself through masturbation. It became a regular part of my routine, devoid of remorse, regrets, or shame. My parents became aware of my actions when they checked the search history on the family iPad. However, this discovery didn't bring about any significant changes for me, except for the fact that I learned to be more discreet in my actions. This marked the beginning of my exposure to the real world and the vast array of sins that were readily accessible through the internet and various websites.

Ages 12-15: Pride

1 John 1:6 “If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth.”

Not only was I addicted to porn from a young age, but later on, I also became obsessed with YouTube and all it had to offer. I immersed myself in everything from video games to vulgar sketch comedy on the platform. Admittedly, this fascination began a little later in my life, during my youth group attendee years. Between the ages of 8 and 13, my family and I attended the same church in Charlotte, NC. Although I was only old enough to be in the main sermons for a year, I continued going to the youth group with my older brother even after we stopped attending the church.

When my family began searching for a new church, I reluctantly joined them for a brief period. I wasn't impressed with any of the places we visited on Sundays. I had friends at our previous church, and I believed that the friendships I formed there relied solely on seeing each other every week at church. I thought those connections would gradually fade away until there was no longer any bond. While some of those friendships did indeed fade, a significant number of them were later revived through other forms of fellowship.

During this transitional period, I encountered what I'll refer to as a "youth group cyber bully." I was far from the coolest kid around, and one particular individual seemed to take personal offense to that. When I was 15, I received my first hand-me-down phone, which allowed me to text my friends. Coincidentally, my oldest and best friend, who remains my close friend to this day, lived in the same neighborhood as my teenage nemesis. Naturally, they spent time together. One day, while they were hanging out, my friend's phone ended up in the hands of the other guy, who began sending me vile messages that targeted my deepest insecurities. I believed these messages were coming from my supposed best friend. When I discovered that it wasn't my best friend, I regrettably lost my composure and began threatening the young boy who had been relentlessly bullying me. I felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. His parents eventually became aware of my highly explicit and specific messages, and they contacted my parents as well as the youth pastor at the youth group I attended. As a result, I was prohibited from returning to the youth group, and they even threatened to involve the police if I ever showed up. The church I so desperately wanted to call my home became a place from which I was forbidden entry.

Ages 15-18: Flesh Wins

Ephesians 2:3 “among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.^”

Eventually, my parents visited a house church that I genuinely enjoyed. We began attending regularly and quickly became part of the church family. The couple whose house we initially met in decided to renovate their kitchen, which was supposed to take a couple of weeks. As a result, my family volunteered our house as the church venue. However, those two weeks turned into two years. Strangely, having church in our own house seemed to have the opposite effect on me when it came to my relationship with God. I convinced myself that simply being present in my house during church gatherings fulfilled my Christian obligations. I would make breakfast for everyone, hide upstairs during the actual service, and then socialize with everyone afterwards. I managed to deceive everyone, including myself.

At the age of 16, I obtained my driver's license and started attending a more modern youth group. It was the kind with strobe lights, fog machines, and a mosh pit for "worship." Looking back, it was an appalling excuse for a Christian youth group. A more fitting term for it would be an under-18 nightclub. The youth pastor would use profanity during his sermons, the worship band members were treated like celebrities, and the name of Jesus was rarely mentioned, except during what they considered the "boring" parts of the night. Their main focus seemed to be on attracting as many attendees as possible, rather than on genuine spiritual growth. The environment they fostered became so toxic that an actual shooting took place during one of their outreach events, which occurred after I had stopped attending.

During my time at that youth group, I managed to integrate myself into every social circle within the group. I was the person who bridged the gaps between cliques. I served on the tech team and enjoyed special privileges as a result. I could access the green room before the service and help myself to pizza. I could sit in the tech room during the service, and I was acquainted with all the influential individuals, which made me feel important. On the surface, it seemed like I was "serving the Lord," but in reality, I was serving my own desires. I aged out of that youth group without fully recognizing it as a negative experience, until more recently. Once the pressure of maintaining a certain outward appearance was no longer a concern, I began feeling more comfortable engaging in behaviors that I shouldn't have.

Ages 18-20: Self-Worship with No Self-Worth

2 Timothy 3:2-3 “For people will be lovers of self, lovers of money, proud, arrogant, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good,”

When I turned 18, I felt liberated from the hold of the church. I no longer had to feel guilty for pursuing activities that I genuinely enjoyed. There was no longer an obligation to sacrifice my precious weekends by waking up early on my day off just to attend a place that put me to sleep. I was too old for youth group and too intellectually advanced to believe in the "fairy tales" presented in the Bible. I considered myself too intelligent to believe in all that "made-up God crap." These were the thoughts and beliefs I held about Christian culture, the culture which I decided to distance myself from as soon as I was old enough to avoid getting into trouble with my parents over it.

However, something happened just as I was about to turn 19 that changed the world's entire perspective on life, and I was no exception. I'm sure you can guess what it is—it starts with a "C" and ends with "ovid-19." The pandemic emerged at a time when I believe I was on the verge of truly seeing Jesus for who He is. I was attending a large church based in Charlotte, which we can call "Altitude," where I began to genuinely listen and learn about God and His care for me. Unfortunately, my attendance there was short-lived due to the Great Mask Debate of 2020. I stopped going to church when the church itself closed its doors.

All of this occurred right after a significant upset in my romantic life, a transition from being a part-time student to a full-time employee, and the end of my high school theatrical career. I was depressed and couldn't see an end to the monotonous and purposeless existence that my life seemed to consist of at that point. Reading the passage above truly reminds me of the person I was during the pandemic and beyond. Even though I projected self-hatred outwardly, it appears that self-obsession was at the core of it all.

I loved myself so much that I loved hating myself.

I was obsessed with acquiring more money to the extent of threatening to leave a company that treated me well during this challenging period in my life, all in pursuit of a raise. I was filled with pride, considering myself superior to those around me. I engaged in verbal abuse for the sake of eliciting laughter. I was disobedient to the point where my parents gave up trying to enforce discipline. I lacked gratitude. I was immersed in sin and apathy. I always wanted more, and I could go on and on about the various sins that manifested in my actions and lifestyle. However, what I have come to learn is that sin is neither new, unique, nor creative. It is a futile waste of time to dwell on. In 2022, when I was 20 years old, I finally realized the truth.

Age 20: A New Creation

Romans 5:7-9 “For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God.”

By the time I turned 20 years old, I had fallen into a routine that may not have been the healthiest for me. I was working four days a week, ten hours a day, which meant I had a three-day weekend every week. This allowed me to maximize the time I spent with my friend who lived a couple of hours south of me. Hanging out with my buddy wasn't inherently bad, as we managed to stay connected and maintain a good friendship. However, my approach to hanging out with him was misguided. We would meet up, play disc golf, and drink. He was over 21 at the time and could handle his alcohol well, understanding his limits. On the other hand, I was underage and inexperienced, often pushing past my limits whenever we were together. I would visit him almost every week in early 2022.

After living 20 years in my flesh, I found myself being a borderline alcoholic, cursing like a sailor, consuming toxic and vulgar media, addicted to porn, and lacking direction or ambition in life. There was nothing for me to hope for. Then, during the first weekend in May, I hit rock bottom.

I was hanging out with my drinking buddy, and since his parents were not home, we decided to go all out that night. We swiped on Tinder, played video games, watched TV, and took consecutive shots of different liquors. Earlier in the night, we had bought ingredients to make grilled cheese and tomato soup, a childhood memory for both of us. I had an idea to turn them into gourmet versions of themselves. After a few drinks, I completed my nostalgic creation, and we had the sandwiches and soup for dinner. Eight shots of a combination of whiskey, vodka, and tequila later, I completely forgot about dinner and became incredibly drunk. This was a typical scenario for me, but it usually ended with me disposing of my dinner and excess alcohol in a manner associated with heavy drinking. I threw up. What made this time different was the presence of tomato soup.

As the concoction I had consumed forcefully exited my system, the red color of the tomato soup made me believe I was bleeding internally and on the verge of death (keep in mind, I was about 12 drinks in with little to no cognitive function left). I was terrified for my life, and as the saying goes, "everyone's an atheist until the plane starts to crash." Naturally, in my fear of death, I cried out to God. I struck a deal with Him, promising to go to church on Sunday if I survived that night. I did survive, and I kept my end of the bargain.

That Sunday happened to be Mother's Day, and I attended the church that used to meet at my house for a couple of years before they purchased a building. The service was average, and I didn't feel particularly moved by the worship or the sermon. I thought I could go back to my usual routine without any significant impact. However, as the service drew to a close, they decided to do one more song and the pastor delivered an encouraging closing word in honor of the mothers. It was at this moment that the Holy Spirit began to work in my life.

I distinctly remember the pastor giving each woman in the congregation a rose. He began describing the rose and relating each aspect of it to the women present. What struck me was that everything he said could easily apply to anyone, not just mothers.

Although I don't recall his exact words, there was a part of his analogy that caught my attention. He mentioned that the rose wasn't fully bloomed yet, indicating that it still had time to mature and become more beautiful and fragrant. It was as if the Holy Spirit interpreted this message specifically for me, urging me to confess my sins to God. In that moment, I realized that God had been eagerly waiting for me to open up and reveal my true self to Him. He knew me better than I knew myself, and despite that, He wanted me to show Him the parts of me that I was ashamed of so that He could cleanse them with the blood of His Son.

I didn't hold back any part of myself in that moment. Overwhelmed with emotion, I sat down in my chair, buried my head in my hands, and began to weep. The pastor concluded the service with a prayer, but I couldn't gather the strength or desire to suppress my tears and preserve my pride. As the congregation filed out, I remained seated, continuing to weep and crying out to God, asking for His forgiveness and surrendering myself to Him.

The assistant pastor, recognizing my condition, approached me with compassion and prayed for me. He could see that I was lost and in need of reassurance. He shared words that resonated with me, words that I believe God was trying to communicate to me in that moment. He expressed, "We would love to see you come back to church, Noah. We miss you. I won't claim that committing to God is easy, but I think you need to make that decision right now. Just surrender to Him." And so, I did. In that very moment, I made a decision to surrender to Jesus.

After leaving the church, when I arrived home, I did something that most Christians don't typically do on a Sunday afternoon—I opened my Bible. Starting with the book of Matthew, I discovered a newfound love and appreciation for the Word of God. There was a notable difference in how the words seemed to come alive to me. While I had read passages during church services before, this time was different. I desired to know God more intimately, so I read His Word to pursue that knowledge. As I journeyed through the pages, I reached Matthew 4 and encountered a verse that solidified my newfound passion.

Matthew 4:4 “But he answered, “It is written, “‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

That verse brought a revelation that I had been spiritually malnourished. I realized that God is not just a God of big revelatory moments; He is an ever-present God in every moment of our lives. The way I lived my life after that decision in church would be the determining factor of whether or not my conversion was genuine. Fortunately, the transformation was instant and evident. I replaced cursing with encouraging words, explicit rap with online sermons, and my depression with the joy of the Lord.

However, with the process of sanctification, there is the concept of "now and not yet." While some transformations happened instantly for me, there are still areas where I struggle to this day, and these struggles may persist until the end of my life. For example, I continued to struggle with pornography for months after surrendering my life to Christ. But what did change instantly in that area was the presence of conviction, remorse, and regret over my sin—I had never experienced those feelings before. The surface-level sins were dealt with relatively quickly by God's grace. The deeper sins that have been ingrained in me and hidden for years may still need to be revealed and worked out by God in His timing. I trust that He will continue to do that in me, even if I am currently unaware of those hidden sins.

Age 20 pt.2: The Coin Flip Decision

Judges 6:37-38 “behold, I am laying a fleece of wool on the threshing floor. If there is dew on the fleece alone, and it is dry on all the ground, then I shall know that you will save Israel by my hand, as you have said.” And it was so. When he rose early next morning and squeezed the fleece, he wrung enough dew from the fleece to fill a bowl with water.”

Shortly after Mother's Day, one of my close friends returned from a Christian gap-year program in Uganda. She shared with me all the incredible things God had done through her during her time there. While I was happy for her, I had no desire to embark on a similar journey. In a somewhat sarcastic manner, she suggested that I consider signing up for the program. Initially, I dismissed the idea completely. However, those words lingered in my mind for the next 48 hours, refusing to let go. Eventually, I could no longer bear the internal turmoil and locked myself in my room, falling to my knees in prayer. With a simple prayer, I said, "God, if this coin lands on heads, I will sign up for Tenth Hour." I flipped the coin, examined the result, and it landed on heads. Recognizing that making such a life-altering decision based on a single coin flip was foolish, I asked for God to do it once more. Again, the coin landed on heads. I repeated this process four more times, each time receiving heads as the result. It was clear to me that God was answering my request for a sign, so I made the decision to sign up for Tenth Hour on May 28th. If accepted, I would leave on August 20th. I was accepted almost instantly.

During those three months leading up to my departure, I constantly searched for alternative paths for my life. I prayed and pleaded with God to allow me to stay in Charlotte and find another local ministry to join. However, God did not answer those prayers in the way I had hoped. August 20th arrived, and I received support from my company, friends, and family. There was minimal resistance to my decision to leave my current life behind and follow Jesus full-time for the next eight months.

Age 21: Tenth Hour Project

Hebrews 11:6b “for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.”

There are ministries similar to Tenth Hour that offer young adults a gap-year to explore the world while incorporating their faith. However, some of these ministries view Jesus as a necessary evil, portraying the idea that being a Christian is "boring." In contrast, Tenth Hour aims to guide young adults in seeking Jesus wholeheartedly and understanding that He is all we need. The opportunity to travel the world and share God's love with others is an exciting bonus. Initially, I had concerns that Tenth Hour might be like Christian college campuses, where Christianity is only evident on the surface. To address these concerns, I decided to call one of their full-time interns. Our conversation reassured me that Tenth Hour was genuine and truly focused on teaching the Word. Every sentence I spoke reminded him of a verse or passage from the Bible, and I found myself wishing I had the same depth of knowledge and understanding.

On August 20th, I was greeted by some of the most enthusiastic, Jesus-loving, God-praising people. I distinctly remember meeting Dave for the first time, and he asked me how my flight was. I replied, "It was alright, no major issues," and he responded with, "Praise God." I found it somewhat strange that he expressed such genuine conviction in the airport, in front of so many strangers, for something as mundane as a smooth flight. However, it was a foreign concept to me that I grew to appreciate and embrace. It was something I could get used to.

Upon arriving at the beautiful campus, there was a lot to unpack physically, mentally, and emotionally. I was now sharing a room with four other men, I had a class schedule for the first time in three years, and I was 2000 miles away from home and everyone I cared about. At the time, I realized that it was the best place for me because it forced me to grow closer to God and the people around me. I did just that, it was a Petri dish of spiritual growth, not just for me but for the other students as well. I learned what grace, mercy and love actually means. I learned what sanctification is. I learned how to study the Bible both intellectually and spiritually. I learned how to create a sermon. I learned how to live the way we were supposed to live. Everything that I learned is only just a fraction of the things that God is, He is never-ending and we will be able to discover more and more of Him throughout all of eternity. During my 8 months at Tenth Hour, I learned a tremendous amount through classes and the mistakes I made. I am now closer to Jesus than ever before. I had the privilege of witnessing two people finding Christ during our street evangelism efforts, and I also had the incredible opportunity to travel the world and spread the Word.

Conclusion: What’s next?

Proverbs 16:9 “A man’s heart plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps.”

God has transformed me in ways that I couldn't have imagined. He has granted me opportunities that I had never even dreamed of. Truly, His presence and guidance are evident in every aspect of my life. He is patient, loving, and cares for us deeply. His desire is for us to be in communion with Him every day. With all that being said, what’s next for me? Well, after I returned from Tenth Hour, I received an offer to return as a full-time intern. I said yes. I got a job for the summer and i’ve been in the process of raising money to be able to support myself while i’m gone. (This blog is also acting as my newsletter.) So, on July 28th, I will be packing my things into my car and leaving Charlotte. I don’t know how long i’ll be gone or even if i’ll return. I do know one thing though, God will go before me and leave after me. He will be the rock on which I stand. His word will guide my path like a lamp to my feet. I have no clue how He might use me but I do know that He will use me. I am willing and ready to do whatever He asks of me because He has already done so much for me. That is my testimony. What’s yours?

P.S.

If you think of me, pray for me as I step out into the world as a full-time intern with The Tenth Hour Project. You can support me financially here. Thanks for reading my testimony! Subscribe for more updates in the future :)