Personal Narrative: Growing Up In A Christian Home

When I was younger, we moved around a few times, but by the time I was

eight years old our family landed in Tucson, Arizona. Fortunately, I grew

up in a Christian home with parents who were very social, so it didn’t take

long for us to make friends. My parents were both very involved in our

church in Tucson. My mother was the Children’s Minister for two years

and my father ran a basketball league in the spring for the children at our

church. My two older brothers and I were really close growing up. We

played the same sports, went to the same schools and never missed

church. For the most part, I had an incredible upbringing, which really

molded me as an adolescent trying to understand what it meant to follow

Jesus.

However, in May of 2005, my parent decided to
God was truly at

work in the mess.

By the time, I graduated High School both of my parents remarried

wonderful people and through those marriages we inherited four

incredible step-sisters. Over time, my parents were able to own the

divorce. They stopped playing the blame game. They knew getting a

divorce was a sin, it was not what God had intended for their marriage

and for our family. Watching my parents admit those things and having

them ask me and my brothers for forgiveness was one of the most

powerful things I have ever experienced. As Paul writes in Romans 3:23,

“… for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” When you’re a

child, you don’t see your parents as fallen and broken people. They are

mom and dad. They are the judges of right and wrong. Not many children

have the opportunity to see their parents in that humble state. Many

parents are too prideful to admit when they are wrong and when they have

fallen short, but my parent’s faith in Jesus compelled them to be sincere

and forthright with me and my brothers about their mistakes. The divorce

was messy and there are still obstacles and hurdles that we have