Still working…still healing…still following Him

a testimony by Grace Barnhart

I would like to begin by clarifying that in sharing my story, I am not speaking to the thoughts, emotions, or experiences of any other members of my family. All of this information is my experience from my perspective.

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Throughout my life and the times I’ve shared my testimony, I have never come up with a good way to start. The cliche intro is, “I was raised in a Christian home.” Which is true, I was. But more than that, I was born as a pastor’s kid and a missionary kid. In addition, my situation was somewhat unique because I was so young. When I was born my parents had already been missionaries in Ukraine for two years. They came back to the states for my birth and then went back to Ukraine when I was only a few months old. So from ages zero to five my “normal” was life as an American living in post USSR Ukraine. Which, from what I remember as a child, was pretty wonderful. However “normal” came crashing down in October 2007 when we moved back to Minnesota because my mom had stage three breast cancer.

It’s pretty hard to explain the concepts of illness and death to a preschooler. It’s even harder, I would assume, when that kid is asking you, “I thought God was good, why did He let mom get cancer?” See, I was very blessed to not only have a loving and godly mom, but a mom I was very close to. I remember thinking to myself, “I love my mom more than anything, if I lost her I wouldn’t know how to live.” I struggled to understand how God could be loving, faithful, and sovereign but still take away what I loved most. I was too young to know that He loves her more than I ever could.

But life continued, as it always does. My mom got better, and then worse again. By 2013 we were told she was terminal and had two years to live. At this point, I was old enough to understand. Old enough to know we were losing her, and that I had limited time. I spent my time in the chemo unit eating cookies and watching cartoons. Or sitting with her on a hospital bed in our living room, helping her organize her meds. I took every scrap of time I could get, and begged and pleaded with God to make her better. But His plan was different from mine. He took her home February 8th 2015. And by that time, I was just so relieved that she wasn’t in pain anymore. However deep down, I was so angry with God and so afraid.

I had no idea how to process those emotions. The community we had at Calvary was simultaneously beautifully supportive, and extremely difficult to grow up in. As the PK I often felt like a public relations manager for our family and for my mother’s death. I felt the need to somehow be broken and vulnerable and to have it all together in a way that people perceived as, “inspirational.” And as the only daughter I felt the pressure of my mother’s legacy. The months and years went on, and my family changed. Then, four years after my mom’s death, a sad and unexpected shift in my family of origin left me lost. I had developed severe trauma, anxiety, and depression. And I had no idea what to do with it.

In an extremely confusing and difficult situation, I was pulled further into my untreated mental illness and it left me without a will to live. I hit the point of contemplating suicide and asked myself, “what do you believe?” Do I really believe in the gospel, in salvation, in God’s love and faithfulness? Do I believe enough to keep going? I wrestled with God. I screamed and cried and fought. And eventually decided, I do believe in the good news. I do trust in God’s love and faithfulness to me. And if I believe that, then my life is not mine to take. I was bought and paid for on the cross.

So I started working. God sent people into my life, a new kind of family. The kind of family that holds you and walks with you no matter what. I got treatment for my mental illness. I fell in love with the Lord in a new way. A way that wasn’t dependent on who He did or didn’t heal. Or what He did, or didn’t do in my life. A way that challenged me to follow Him as my father. Which is still hard to this day, the imagery of God as a loving father figure can be hard for me to grasp. But day by day I see it. I am only now beginning to see the years and years of His faithfulness to me, and honestly I’ll probably never understand it fully.

So, after it all, I’m still working. Still healing. Still following Him, and fighting with Him, and seeing more of His plans for me. The beauty is, life in the pursuit of submission to Christ has given me more joy, peace, and purpose than anything else could. No human being defines my eternal value and purpose. I get to walk in the confidence of His love, and am compelled to love others the same way. It looks different than I expected, “normal” and “family” are concepts that now mean something totally different than I would have guessed. Still, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I don’t know who you are, reading this right now, but if you’re feeling like everything you know is crashing down. I can promise you, He has so much more in store for you. Not in the ways you’ve planned, or even the way you wanted. But in the ways you need. And someday soon, He will make it all new.

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Grace Barnhart is from Minnesota and grew up at Calvary. After a challenging childhood, she is now navigating life as a young adult. She lived in Washington state for a couple years, finding community and fulfillment in her time there. She is now back in Rochester, working as a nanny and serving at Calvary in youth and worship ministries. Day by day, she continues to learn more of God’s plans for her future.