I grew up in a Christ-centered home. My daddy grew up in the church with God-fearing parents. My mom grew up in a non-Christian home and did not get saved until she was older. Now her entire family are Christ-followers. I grew up going to church and said a prayer asking Jesus into my heart on October 17, 1995. I was five years old. I did not necessarily understand the full concept of what it meant to be saved, but I knew that Jesus died for me and He wanted to live in my heart. (It took me a while to figure out how exactly He got in there... ) :D
I have always gone to church with my Nana and Papa, Memom and my daddy's sister's family. I'm blessed to have grown up in a wonderful, Christian home with family who always support me. My parents firmly believed in sending their children to private Christian school. The first time I went to a public educated institution was when I stepped foot on the college campus. I am grateful for the foundation I received in my years of elementary, middle and high school.
One of the first defining moments in my life was when my Papa was diagnosed with cancer in 2000. I was only 9 years old. Something in me snapped. I have never been so angry at God. I didn't understand how God let something so terrible happen to someone who loved Him so much. What bothered me more is that my Papa was not angry. He was dying... and he wasn't afraid. I was terrified.
On October 16, 2003, after wrestling back and forth with God for a little over 3 years... He showed up powerfully. He showed me, through my Papa's battle with cancer, that He did love me, my family and most importantly that my Papa was not fighting alone or for a lost cause.
Papa went home to forever be with His best friend on June 17, 2004. Since then I have heard countless stories of how his life had impacted others. God knew what He was doing. He used Papa to further His kingdom. Now as his granddaughter I have the honor of carrying on that legacy.
Many people that I know have heard that story. I've spoken in front of a bunch of people and shared it, but the story continues.
High school was one of the worst yet best experiences I've had in my life. I was a secure girl, mostly because I was loved and reassured by my earthly father. But school was terrible. My freshman and sophomore years weren't so bad. I transitioned into high school fairly well, I was a varsity athlete, was involved with Christian clubs, had a great relationship with my teammates and had a great guy (even though we never officially dated) who supported me.
My Junior year is when things started changing. I think that's a defining year in high school, you either go down one path or the other. I never really cared about being popular, I tried to be friends with everyone whether they wanted to be around me or not. It was extremely rare that I got picked on to my face, but I knew it went on. I wasn't skinny, didn't have the best complexion and I loved Jesus... a lot. There are two situations that happened my senior year that haunt me to this day:
1. I sat in the back corner of my English class. My assigned seat was in the middle of a bunch of male athletes. I walked in late for class that day because I was helping a teacher out. When I walked in and sat down it got really quiet and the guy I sat next to said "here comes Sarah Melton, weighing in at 185 pounds." I good and well knew that I didn't weigh that much, but he said that in front of me and 20 of my classmates. "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me..." yeah, that's a bunch of bull. I've forgiven him...I forgave him a long time ago, but thinking about that moment hurts me. That's one of the reasons that if I'm ever late to a class, I hesitate and sometimes don't even go.
2. One of my teammates found out during my junior year that she had a cyst on her brain. She came into the lunch room in tears worried about the situation. I get up out of my seat, grab some of my teammates and we surround her in the corner and start praying for her. After we were done, I went back to my table to clean up and one of my classmates says loudly to her friends, "look at the Virgin Mary, praying for all to see." People say going to a Christian school is easy... think again.
I felt very alone during those years. I was in a dormant spiritual season. I didn't feel God and felt abandoned by Him, but I had nothing else to turn to. I remember begging Him to take all of it away and make it easy. I knew He was there and I knew my midnight hour was coming. Jesus was moving and He was not going to leave me.
I began training right after graduation. When I first began, it became very obsessive. I would constantly think about workout routines and nutrition. I was only doing it out of insecurity. I feared that if I didn't look the way a college girl is expected to look, then the teasing would follow me into college. It went on like this until about September of my freshman year at ECU.
During my first semester, I quickly learned what it meant to be accepted for who you are by true friends. I met many girls in my campus ministry who never once remarked about my imperfections. They always encouraged me and they wanted to be around me. I almost didn't know how to react. A girl named Alex noticed my obsessive training habits and confronted me about them. She told me that she was worried about me being obsessive and that I didn't need to measure up to anything because Jesus loved me no matter what. After hanging out with these girls I began to see myself through God's eyes. As soon as I started seeing myself that way, my training took off. I dropped 30 pounds and became stronger than I had ever been. I finally had found the right mindset and my relationship with Jesus grew deeper.
My passion now is to help other people find their identity in Christ, with fitness as a tool.
"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body." -1 Corinthians 6:19-20
I was bought with a price. I am valued. I know who I am and I know Whose I am. I belong to the King of Kings and the Creator of the universe. Honoring God with my body is an act of worship. Some people feel tortured in the gym (and sometimes I do too), but amidst all that torture, He is with me. I know that sounds funny, but that's just me.
That's why I do what I do and have the passions that I have. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment