My Life As A Child

For the majority of my life, I had been shy, even though it didn’t seem like it most of the time, I was scared to death when I met new people. I know that it sounds extremely trivial, but I feel that when you first meet someone, you’re ultimately giving them their first impression of yourself and that is a lot of pressure. It seemed almost certain that I would lead a life of being a social wallflower until March 2017, more specifically, March 28th, 2017. This day was and still is important to me because I learned how to be confident, and through my experience, it taught me something that I will hold onto forever. Prior to this day, I was an extremely introverted person and rarely went out of my way to make friends. As a volunteer at day

Pulling up at the hospital; I had no idea what I was about to endure for the first time. I walked to the end of the hall to see someone that meant so much to me laying there lifeless. I stood at the foot of his hospital bed; for a moment it seemed as if time had frozen. I was there with one other person when two nurses walked in to tell me “we see no signs of improvement, we are going to pull the plug”. I stood there and watched my best friend breath his last breath. When they allowed me to go back into the room, I immediately checked to see if he was still breathing. I walked to his side, rested my hand on his cold shoulder and prayed to God that this wasn’t real. Later flowers were piled up in the worst way and no one knew what to say or if they should speak at all. This amazing person was buried and I blamed God for the loss of his life and the physical pain that flooded my body. I couldn’t accept what had happened and told myself that it wasn’t real. I was so angry at God for making me go through this that I had lost all faith in him. My relationship with God was so amazing before I experienced this that I couldn’t understand why he would want this for me. I continued to question everything that I had ever known that I didn’t know what to believe in

As for my family, we trust in God and accepted Jesus as our personal savior. We believe in prayer and using God's word to help mold our lives. As for me, it took a number of years to even approach spiritual maturity. Therefore, to feel comfortable sharing my faith with others out side of church was always a challenge! The road was long and winding, with no shortage of wrong turns and bad decisions. Even though, in my younger years I attended the occasional vacation bible school and youth group bible studies with friends. Our family rarely graced the front door of a church growing up; let alone, teach us about God or the bible. My parents were not atheist they just chose not to participate in church. I think in part, although not an excuse,

From my childhood itself, the interest that I developed towards sciences, especially chemistry influenced me to consider a chemistry-based degree to pursue my profession. Also, I dreamed about working in the medical field since my parents both worked in the same medical field. When i was small, my mother used to carry me to the Hospital where she worked. I loved the caring attitude of the Hospital’s staff members. My frequent visits to the Hospital made me Hospital-borne. So, i dreamed to be part of the health-care providers.

Ever since I was a young boy, my family would pile into our old 15-passenger van and drive to church each and every Sunday, without fail. I didn't really understand it at first, it was just something I had to do. When I was around 6 years old, my mother encouraged me to accept Jesus Christ as my lord and savior. I hardly understood what it meant, but I went through with it, much to my mother’s excitement. Years passed, and my understanding grew. Up until I was around 13 years old, my faith had no correlation to my actions. I could recite bible verses for hours, yet I couldn't say what any of them meant. That all changed one year at Camp Selah, a Then, in the year 2014, my faith took a turn for the worst. I’d had a testing first year of high

Some reasons why childhood has changed during the past generation are the crimes surged from the 60’s through the early ‘90s, stories of abducted children appeared constantly in the news and this created fear in many parents. The society changed, people seem to have more malicious and that is why parents started to be more cautious.

I look to Jesus Christ for guidance and strength in my everyday life. I pray to Him about how thankful I am, and I pray to Him about others around me. I look to Him to help me prepare and pass exams. I also ask Him to help others in whatever hardships they may be having. My family taught me about His message. My grandparents have contributed a great deal to my acceptance of Jesus Christ. One of my best memories is when my grandmother sat me down in church and we prayed to Jesus Christ to forgive our sins and to accept me. My grandparents are people that live by His word, and they try to spread His message everyday. They thank him everyday for the blessings in life that they have. My grandparents are very much involved in the Westwood Church community, and they have encouraged me to be too.

Growing up, I was always considered the “ Angel child” in my family. My parents thought of me as a kid who could do no wrong, and always did the right thing. For most of my childhood and early teenage years, that was correct. It was not until I met my new group of friends when starting Middle school and entering High school that this all changed. I was introduced into the typical group of trouble makers; at least that’s what my parents would come to think. At first, it just seemed like a normal group of friends. We would hang out, play video games and sports together; all the typical activities that teenagers would do together. Things stayed like that up until 9th grade, when more people were added to the group. Their ideas of fun often

At thirty-six, I began to experience a rather turbulent and difficult period in my life after my father had passed away from congestive heart failure. Regrettably, I stopped attending church and began working extra hours the weekends to stay busy in an attempt to alleviate the pain that existed due to suppressing the hurt I experienced after the death of my father. Subconsciously, I was searching for peace and comfort that can only be obtained through Jesus Christ. I felt a deep emptiness dominating my innermost self with a combination of an extremely, heavy burden afflicted my broken heart.

My family claims to be religious, but most are content with being “Sunday-morning” Christians. If it were not for my great-grandmother, I probably would be the same as the rest of my family. She was the only one who truly supported my later decision to pursue God instead of flirt around Christianity. I would go to services on Sunday mornings, but that was about as

These daily practices were engrained through my parents. However, in my 20s, I gained an additional understanding of my faith. When God sought to test me I learned about who I am and how my faith makes me stronger. These tests allowed me to believe with absolute certainty in God, taught me the benefits of daily prayer, and showed me how important my beliefs are to me. Through

In the past, my faith had been challenged on numerous occasions. The very first time that my faith was challenged was when I was nine. I was diagnosed with type one diabetes (T1D). This was so hard for my family and I to cope with and to understand. I did not know anything about T1D nor all the strains that came with it. I blamed God for giving me this disease, I had asked him “Why me, what did I do to deserve this?” I spent a lot of time seeking for this answer.

To this day, I can still remember standing at the end of my driveway watching my mother arrive home from the bus stop. This day was different; she was not coming home empty handed. In fact, she had stopped at a yard sale on the way home and bought a prize for me, a doll named Suzy. This memory, from the age of two, embraces the story of my mother and my entire childhood. In Indianapolis, Indiana in September 1980, I was born to a single mother. Throughout her life, she worked for the phone company in downtown Indianapolis. Even though she raised us through hardships and despair, she always took the time to love my brother and me outwardly. Until second grade, I have no recollection of my father visiting more than three occasions. At last, in fourth grade we began to spend weekends at his house and with his family. Sadly, when I was eleven we learned that my father had cancer. One week before Christmas, after a school music program, I read his obituary in the paper and told my mother he had passed away. From that moment, our family forever changed, specifically my relationship with my mother.

My mom once told me when I was young and ignorant, “Faith is the foundation of a beautiful friendship with the one person who will always remain by your side”. These words were expressed even more profoundly every Sunday in the echoing corridors of a small church by a priest I had yet to know or even care about. Preaching with his perplexing words in which I could only muster barely a fourth of my full attention span listening to. Thus, the term faith did not exactly resonate with me until many years later. My early years were filled with the teachings of the bible in Sunday school and later on as well in middle school during Friday night sessions. Unfortunately, my mom was an extremely strong enforcer of our faith for she was also raised Catholic from birth, but my dad on the other hand has a more scientific approach to how the world came to be. The years I spent in Sunday school blurred into an everlasting line of bleak nothingness just a ticking clock waiting till an end. Even today I do not remember anything that occurred within those taxing sixty minuets of constant bible studies it’s as though I lost the key to the inner workings of my childhood. Nonetheless, there have always been unbelievably great role models in my faith such as my mom, youth ministers, and friends who encourage me to be open to my faith. However, it’s always been my own restrictions that prevent me from furthering my relationship with God. So when my sister suffered her first severe

As a child, I remember growing up in an area of Atlanta, Georgia called Mechanicsville. This area was very diverse with people from various socioeconomic backgrounds. Often, my mother would share valuable life lessons with my siblings and me. One, in particular, I remember even to this day is, “Life is only as challenging or motivating as you make it”. Originally, I did not quite understand the purpose of this aphorism; but as I got older, the meaning became quite clear. Although life for me has been both wholesome and unhealthy, in hindsight, it seemed better than my childhood friends. If you knew the real story, you would see that my life is not as perfect as it appears. Just to provide you with a little insight into my world, I had a