kvanover@twc.com

A Testimony or The Best Evidence for God’s Existence

I had originally planned to write a post on God’s existence and how I make the Bible, most notably Genesis, jive with science. And I may eventually do just that. However, I was drawn to an article that I read a few months back. I cannot recall the article’s name or the author’s name. Nevertheless, a quick summary reads like this: a Christian is trying to convince an agnostic that God exists through various philosophical arguments. The agnostic tells the Christian that his best evidence for God’s existence is the Christian’s testimony about what God has done is his life. So, this post is my testimony.

This is also, without a doubt, the hardest blog post that I have ever written. In fact, I convinced myself to write it. Then I un-convinced myself. And now, I have re-convinced myself. Why is it so hard? PRIDE. And to be truly honest, the main reason that I re-convinced myself is my sister’s testimony (Love you, Sis). She testified on facebook how God straightened her life out, after years of drug abuse. It takes guts, and a genuine love for Jesus to do that. So, thanks to my sister for setting a good example.

I struggled for years with anxiety. I would throw-up just before a stressful situation. I can remember the first time it happened. I was 12 years old. I was the starting center for a biddy league basketball team. Just before the game, I felt myself get nauseous. I went to the restroom and threw-up. I thought it was an isolated incident. I had no idea it would be a pattern in my life for the next 20+ years. Now, do not feel sorry for me. I was extremely blessed. Many Appalachian families were in poverty. My family was not. We had everything we needed and then some. I had great parents. I was athletic and intelligent. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that I was going to grow up and become successful.

Fast forward 20 years. I had, in fact, become successful. I had four dogs, a house with a fenced-in back yard, a pretty wife, two college degrees, and a career that allowed me to work with one of the most prestigious law enforcement agencies in the world. I had obviously learned to cope with my problem, but throwing up really sucked. I tried to fight the nausea, but I learned that sometimes it was easier to just throw-up and get it over with. I often felt better that way. I threw-up about 10 minutes before nearly every job interview in my life. At other times, I simply would not eat, when I knew that I had a stressful situation coming up. My thinking: How can I throw-up, when I do not have any food in my stomach? Not eating worked until I started dry heaving. Sometimes I could actually keep myself from throwing up during stressful situations, but the nausea and the fear that I would throw-up were always present.

What finally brought the situation to a breaking point was my career. Like I said, I was working for one of the most prestigious law enforcement agencies in the world. I had a job where deadly force was very possible….everyday. I had fear, but I was never afraid of the bad guys I had to arrest. My greatest fears were letting down my co-workers and being embarrassed. I mean, who wants to work with a guy who might be throwing up, when he should be shooting someone? I knew that was unlikely, because my problem was straight anxiety. Once the feces hit the fan, the anxiety left, and I was money. Nevertheless, I knew that if the situation were reversed, I would be leery about working with someone with my problem. So, it is easy to understand how much pressure I had put on myself.

It was also embarrassing that I could not control it. I knew it was all in my head, and I knew that I had done a pretty good job controlling my life up to that point. Why could I not control this? At this point in my life, I had no intention of asking God. I had been there and done that. I can remember being in a bathroom stall in high school praying with all my might. I had already asked God to take it from me, and my prayers were NOT answered.

When I started attending church regularly in 2005, I was not looking for a cure to anxiety. I did so because I felt guilty over a divorce. My kid was living with my ex-wife, and I felt like I abandoned him. Regardless, I went on a mission trip to New Orleans in 2006, about one year after Hurricane Katrina. The trip also happened to coincide with Easter. It is difficult to explain to someone who has not experienced it, but there were two things that changed my outlook on life. One was seeing how the survivors were just thankful to be alive. Two was doing something good for people (just for the sake of doing it). Those two things allowed me to put my world in proper perspective. I learned that my career, my finances, and my possessions were not the most important things. Coincidentally, those things were causing me the most stress. When I gave my career, my finances, and my possessions less importance, God changed me. I had his peace. Doing God things had to be number one. Everything else was secondary. It was not an instant healing, however. It was a process, but it was a very fast process. I still get anxious, but it is a healthy level of anxiety. I am ecstatic to say that I cannot recollect that last time that I threw-up from anxiety.

I feel somewhat guilty that I have not testified earlier. I am not talented enough to truly explain how bad my anxiety was. I also tried to fix it with everything, short of a psychiatrist (way too much pride for that). I have kept this testimony secret because I care too much about what other people think of me, especially my co-workers. In my line of work, we have to portray ourselves as invincible bad asses. My co-workers are also my friends. I do not know if or how they will react. I have also kept it a secret because I have too much pride. I am simply embarrassed, and I do not want people to know. In the end though, I had to go back to what I learned on my New Orleans mission trip. God is first. Everything else is secondary. If one person finds inspiration in my testimony, then all the risks and all the embarrassment is worth it.