I asked Jesus into my heart when I was 6 years old, but it would take me almost three decades to surrender my heart to Him. I was lukewarm for far too long … until Sept. 3, 2023.

I’ve struggled with a lot of things in my life – loss, depression, anxiety, financial irresponsibility, codependency, materialism, broken relationships, addiction – so many things. I look back on those struggles now, and I see what they all had in common – they were all idols. They were all things I put ahead of God in my heart.

I have always loved both creating stories and hearing the stories of others. Recently, I’ve been drawn to reading and listening to testimonies of everyone from Jill and Jessa Duggar to Toby Mac to the Robertson family of Duck Dynasty fame. I’ve also discovered testimonies that are less public but more personal through connections I’ve made. There’s something so powerful about looking back on someone’s life and being able to see God’s fingerprints and how he wove every intricate detail together in his perfect plan for that person’s life – truly humbling.

But I never felt that my own personal story had much worth to anyone else. Until recently, I didn’t have this dramatic, transformational story to tell about when I became a Christian. I’ve been a Christian as long as I can remember. I was saved, but my heart hadn’t been changed – not really. My heart hadn’t been fully permeated by God’s perfect love. It hadn’t been purged of the idols. And I had not surrendered my heart to God and his Will.

Then on Sept. 3, 2023, my small rural community was shaken to its core when Jersey Poff – a perfect, beautiful 11-year-old girl with a heart of gold and a soul on fire for Jesus – succumbed to a brief, unexplained illness. I was in shock – everybody else was too.

Jersey was very active at my church and one of the flock of children I enjoyed shepherding while helping out with children’s ministry. She sure was a joy to be around – no matter how well you knew her – and she was endlessly talented.

And then – in what seemed like the blink of an eye – she was gone.

My tender heart was in utter agony for her mom and dad. I descended into a fog of post-shock in the days following Jersey’s passing. I’ve always been an empathetic person, but this reached all new levels. The rock bottom point for me was attending Jersey’s viewing and seeing a child in a pink casket – a memory I will never forget as long as I live.

It was at this point that my heart and spirit broke. I didn’t know what to do … and that’s when I really let God in my heart, my whole entire broken heart. I’ve never in my life been more willing to change.

I started by making myself do something I’d never consistently been able to do – read my Bible every single day. After the community outpouring to #LiveLikeJersey, it seemed the least I could do to honor her memory. I also began praying multiple times and in different ways each day.

That small offering of taking time out of my day to spend with God – it transformed my heart. I started to care less and less about things I’d cared so much about in the past – money, stuff, wasted time. These things just didn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of life. I wanted to make every day, every moment count – just like Jersey did.

Now, I’m living to glorify the one who lives in me, Jesus Christ. I still make mistakes every day, but through his grace, he forgives my mistakes and has shown me visions of things yet to come. I’m walking by faith, not sight, and trusting that God will lead me forward into his will for me. I’m satisfied, at peace and protected from the enemy because of my amazing God. How Jesus saved me – both on the cross 2,000 years ago and after Sept. 3, 2023 – is the greatest story I have to tell.