It was not the first time I tried to end my own life.
It was as if I had sunk into a sea of emptiness. In despair, all I could do was curl up in a ball, hold my breath, and hope that life—and my pain—would end quickly.
I used to wonder what my spiritual gift was. I thought it was ushering because someone suggested I help out as an usher.
Then one day, our pastor showed us a movie titled War Room. The main character was a faithful and God-loving woman who wrote down her prayers in a prayer closet and prayed about them daily.
I was born into a Christian family. Since I was young, I have been attending weekly Sunday School classes, Sunday services and even family cell groups.
Growing up in church, I often heard stories of people’s extraordinary encounters with God.
I first started dating him in March, 2010. We met during some classes we shared in college. He grew up in a Christian family, so I thought that since we shared the same faith, we would surely be able to navigate the storms of life together.
“What’s your spiritual gift?”
It’s a question I’ve been asked at far too many small group meetings. That question and conversations around it have always made me uncomfortable, and I’ve only recently begun to articulate why.