How a Sixteen-Year-Old Found Wholeness on an Ordinary Walk
By the time I was sixteen, I was carrying more weight than anyone my age should have—working long hours, walking miles just to quiet my thoughts, and trying to hold my life together without understanding what I was missing. I grew up with religion, but God felt distant, incomplete, and unable to reach the places where anxiety, loneliness, and exhaustion lived. What changed my life didn’t happen in a church or through a plan—it happened on an ordinary walk, after knocking on an unfamiliar door, and being met with truth, compassion, and an invitation that altered everything.
My name is Kelly, and this is my story.
Chapter One: My Failure?
I was raised, along with my brother by a single mom–who had separated from my father before I was born. My brother is three years older than me. He’s a ‘Junior,’ named after our dad. Growing up, I saw him as tall, good-looking, and a great musician. I loved him, but lived in his shadow, always aware of the vast difference between us.
Growing up, I was short, overweight, and not popular. I didn’t fit in socially, and I felt it every day. Because of my physical and emotional state, anxiety and depression were constant companions. Most days, I felt unseen and unsure of myself, carrying a quiet weight I didn’t know how to name.
Spiritually, my life had some structure. For a few years, I attended Catholic school. My PawPaw would take us to Mass most Sundays. I was familiar with church, with religious language, and with routine—but I didn’t understand relationships. I knew about God, but I didn’t know Him. Faith was something around me, not something alive in me.
Looking back now, I can see that life’s failure wasn’t my circumstances or my insecurity—it was that I was separated from God and didn’t yet know how deeply I needed Him.
Chapter Two: Human Efforts
During my tween years, we moved about a hundred miles away from my PawPaw, who had been my main spiritual influence. By that time, I had already made my First Communion, so going through Confirmation felt like the proper next step. My brother was confirmed alongside me. But not long after that, both he and my mom stopped going to church.
Not me. I didn’t stop.
I continued going to Mass on my own, riding my bike across town to get there. Looking back, I see that I was trying to hold onto structure, to something familiar and grounding. I must have stood out, because the priest noticed me and frequently tried to recruit me into the priesthood. Each time, I would respond honestly, saying, “But I want to get married.” Even then, I knew that path wasn’t mine.
What I was doing, without realizing it, was relying on religious participation instead of relationships. Church became something I was obliged to attend. I showed up, followed the motions, and tried to stay connected—but I didn’t understand faith beyond obligation and routine.
As my teenage years progressed, activities and responsibilities expanded quickly. I got my first job. With it came new environments, new influences, and indulging in alcohol and marijuana. These weren’t deliberate acts of rebellion as much as they were attempts to belong, to cope, and to feel something different than the anxiety and heaviness I carried.
I was always searching—through responsibility, religion, and eventually distraction—but none of it addressed what was really missing.
Chapter Three: The Consequences
As time went on, my brother became more independent. He was working and spending less time at home. My mom was doing her best, but she struggled to meet monthly expenses, let alone provide spending money for me. The responsibility of providing pocket money for myself, also included helping to pay significant household expenses.
It was Summer and I was 16. Day after day, my life became a cycle of obligation and exhaustion. Summer School from 8 to Noon, immediately followed by stacking furniture in a hot warehouse until 5, then working the broiler at the fast food restaurant until after Midnight.
The toll was heavy. I was worn down physically and drained mentally, with little margin to rest or reflect. What once felt manageable slowly became overwhelming.
As a pre-teen, Church had been a refuge. It provided structure and a sense of safety. But as I moved into my teen years, that refuge faded. Church seemed lacking—not because it had changed, but because something deeper in me was unmet. I showed up, but I didn’t find relief.
Alcohol and marijuana made things worse. My anxiety and depression increased, and loneliness settled in alongside them. I was surrounded by people, yet felt increasingly alone.
On the few days I wasn’t working, I didn’t know how to rest. I would wander the streets for hours, not going anywhere in particular—just trying to cope, trying to quiet my thoughts, trying to escape the weight I carried inside.
Looking back now, I can see that I was doing everything I could to survive—but nothing was bringing real peace.
Chapter Four: Discovering and Applying God’s Truth
This was before iPods, mp3 players and cell phones. I don’t think I even owned a Walkman. When the weight became too much, I would just walk—sometimes for hours. I had a few routes around town. One route passed the house of a classmate. He was my age and in band with me, but we were in different classes and moved in different circles. He was just a guy I knew.
One day, without much thought, I decided to knock on his door.
He wasn’t home, but his mom was. This was the crossroad I needed.
And this encounter would guide me to a new path.
She would later become “Sister Joyce” to me—a second mom during a season when I desperately needed one. From the moment she opened the door, she seemed to see what I couldn’t articulate. She recognized the anxiety, the depression, and the loneliness I had been carrying.
She listened more than she talked. She didn’t wear priestly garments, but she spoke with grace, mercy, and heavenly authority.
And when she did speak, her words were gentle, comforting, and reassuring. I wish I could remember the exact words she shared—this was more than forty years ago—but I know she shared her personal story, grounded in the truth of the Gospel. Her story–her testimony, included included bible verses that explain salvation clearly and simply. She helped me understand something I had never really grasped before—that all of us fall short of God’s standard, like it says in Romans 3:23. And that sin isn’t just a mistake or a phase—it brings separation from God and leads to death, just like Romans 6 talks about.
But she didn’t stop there.
She went on to explain God’s love—that even while we were still sinners, God showed His love for us through Jesus Christ, who died in our place, like Romans 5:8 says. And she helped me see that eternal life isn’t something you earn by trying harder or being better. It’s a gift—freely given through Jesus Christ our Lord, the second half of Romans 6:23.
For the first time, the message wasn’t religious obligation.
It was personal hope.
She didn’t lecture me. She wasn’t recruiting me. She helped me see Jesus in a way I never had and invited me to church with her family the following Sunday.
The following month was an amazing blur, culminating in my complete surrender to Christ on the last Sunday of July, 1982.
What I know for certain is this: something shifted. The truth I had heard about God finally reached my heart. I began to understand that Jesus wasn’t asking me to try harder—He was offering me SALVATION. He was my refuge and my strength (Psalm 46:1). Faith became real. Grace became personal. And for the first time, I wasn’t walking alone.
Chapter Five: The Results
I was born again–adopted into the family of Christ! The change that followed salvation was real, and it unfolded over time. Spiritually, every benefit of my surrender began to take root in my life. My faith was strengthened—not overnight, but steadily. I was weaned from worldly attachments and distractions that had never satisfied me. What I truly loved became clear, and my desire to follow Christ deepened.
I also began to understand that my faith was not meant to be private. God was shaping me to help rescue others, to share my story about what He had done in my life, and to live out the Great Commission. Perseverance became part of my story—not as endurance in my own strength, but as a growing dependence on Jesus through every season–from the peaceful to the stormy.
There were physical changes as well. I became healthier and happier. I lost weight. Life felt lighter—not because circumstances were perfect, but because I was no longer carrying everything alone.
Emotionally, God gave me something I didn’t even know I needed: a spiritual family. I gained a lifelong best friend—a second brother. He’s been a pastor for over 30 years. His mom, Sister Joyce, and dad, became spiritual parents to me during some of my most formative years. Through that relationship, God restored what I had been missing and anchored me in love, stability, and truth.
It was also during this season that I met my future wife, a gift from God I have now been blessed to share life with for more than forty years. That relationship, like my faith, has been built over time on grace, commitment, and trust.
God also allowed my testimony to bear fruit beyond my own life. I was able to leave a positive impact for Christ in my high school. In time, my mother came to know the grace, and mercy of Christ. My brother gave his heart to Christ as well. He also went to Bible College and became a godly leader, and faithful witness to Christ.
At sixteen years old, I became a worship drummer, a role God has used consistently throughout my life. Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of serving in more than 1,600 worship services—each one an opportunity to express my gratitude and point people to Jesus.
And even now, my story continues. God has placed My Story His Glory in my heart—a ministry born out of testimony, obedience, and a desire to see others encounter Christ through the power of personal witness.
Looking back, I can see that salvation didn’t just change my direction—it changed my foundation. Everything that followed flowed from that moment when Jesus met me, saved me, and gave my life meaning.
My name is Kelly. This is my story, His glory.
