I grew up in a small suburban town in Indiana, having immigrated there with my parents at age five. My family wasn’t religious at all. I didn’t realize this was an issue until one day in elementary school a friend told me her mom asked her to stop inviting me over because I was an atheist. From that moment on, I decided that if the Christians wouldn’t have me, then I wouldn’t have them.
Based on appearances, I grew up pretty well without the Church. I was a model student, got into NYU and got a good job upon graduation. I spent 99% of my time at work. Over time this started to make me desperately unhappy and I fell into depression. Throughout this time, I kept asking myself – what is it that I am looking for? If this – a high-paying job, a fun life in NYC – isn’t what I want, then what is?
The answer came unexpectedly. A friend of mine, when I was complaining to her one day, suggested I go with her to church. Having no better ideas, I eventually agreed.
The answer came unexpectedly. A friend of mine, when I was complaining to her one day, suggested I go with her to church. Having no better ideas, I eventually agreed.
After that first visit to Redeemer, I joined a Seeker Group, and at some point, the Gospel started to hit home for me. The hardest thing about depression is the feeling of being completely alone. People will fail you and that’s a hard thing to accept. I am certain that Jesus experienced this feeling in the Garden of Gethsemane, when his disciples failed him. He was completely alone, he was about to die, and he accepted it – and he even loved them. When I opened my heart to the Gospel, not just my mind, I began to see how it was the answer I was looking for.
Then one Saturday afternoon, I came home from volunteering and fell asleep pondering the question of whether I could call myself Christian. When I woke up, I was certain – that God had intentionally called me to Him, that Jesus was real, and that I was born anew through the Gospel.