Testimonies

Joanna Monaghan

'What does Jesus Mean to Me ?' ....... a personal testimony

"In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths"

"His compassion fail not, they are new every morning"

The youngest of 3 children, I was born into a Christian household, where the bible was read, and family and personal prayer were a frequent occurrence.  There were framed bible texts in most rooms in the house, and the ones in the dining room (which was the warmest room in the house in the winter) read "In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths" and "His compassion fail not, they are new every morning".  I cannot remember a time when I wasn't a Christian.  We were members of the Plymouth Brethren.  During my teenage years, a change in leadership amongst these brethren resulted in a stricter code of behaviour and thinking, and members were exhorted to become exclusive in relationships and daily living .... not even eating or mixing socially with unbelievers (i.e. those who were not brethren).  This really disturbed me, as it did not seem to reflect the life of Christ, who went out of his way (sometimes walked miles) to seek out the lost, damaged and needy.  As time passed it became harder and harder to reconcile this dilemma, what was I to do ?  To leave the brethren meant a severance from my family.  An exclusive life had now become a condition of membership.  I thank God that Alexander, whom I married, felt exactly the same, and just after Steffie was born in 1968, we took that painful step, leaving our families inside.  It was a turmoil for both of us.  We were honest with God, and put our trust in Him for an uncertain future, simply knowing that we could no longer continue.  It was a life-changing experience.

Then in 1977 Alexander died, aged 37.  Steffie was by then 8, the twins were 6, and I was 32.  Any of you who have experienced the anguish of losing a partner know also its long-reaching effects.  I was sustained by my faith and the loving companionship of my mum-in-law (whom we call 'Gags').  and my dad, both in their 70's, and close life-long friends, some of whom are ex-brethren, as were dad and Gags.  I had a conviction that it was Alex's time to die, "A time to be born and a time to die", and that for some reason I'd been entrusted with continuing to bring up our lovely children.  So, shocked and feeling decidely frail, Gags, dad and I set out to do just that.

Three years later I had to take 7 months off work to recover from a major accident.  On the way home from a 5th and 6th year parents' consultation evening, an overtaking car had hooked onto the side of me.  This resulted in a broken pelvis, other more minor breakages, and concussion due to a head injury.  During my convalescence, I sorted out my priorities, realising that I was going to forget any promotions (I was acting Head of Department at this time), remaining a main-grade teacher and concentrating on my beloved children who had nearly lost a dad and a mum in just under 3 years.  The head injury had slightly affected my piano-playing, but I had been given my life.  From this time I began to look for a place for us to worship God as a family and we came through the door of St. Barnabas in 1982, when Kate Morris was on the bookstall.

18 years later my children had flown the nest and my father had died, but the demands of full-time teaching in a busy music department were all-embracing, and I certainly didn't need to look for things to fill my time.  In fact, balancing the stresses of this ever-increasing workload (driven by continual deadlines) with important family and church commitments was becoming too much.    After working through an entire weekend I could not lift myself out of bed on the Monday morning.  Enough was enough.  I was exhausted, angry and sad.  I had to make a decision to take early retirement, and it was during this decision-making time that Ray Morris was taking the Lent group that I was in.  He was speaking about forgiveness and loving, and it home to me that I needed to forgive my own physical frailty for no longer being able to take the pressure.  I stopped being a prisoner of my own anger, frustration and sadness, and started to be optimistic again.  The future was again uncertain without the structure of a working life with its fulfilment, and its salary. 

My mum-in-law died just before Viv returned after working in New Zealand, and I was so grateful that she knew nothing about Viv's critical illness.  I thank God for the prayers of Christian friends in the north-east, and for the love and prayers of St. Barnabas for Vivienne and us as a family.  Viv felt that she was given her life back, and now she is giving that life to other in Southern Sudan.  It is wonderful to see God at work in my adult children's lives; two of them have families, and it's lovely to see them teaching their little ones. In all the life-changing experiences that I have portrayed, AFTER I have put my trust in Him, he has guided my footsteps.  There have been times when I have been so distraught that I could not pray, and then I have turned to dear Christian friends to pray for me.  I well remember sitting in a tiny bedroom, in a cheap bed and breakfast in Cardiff, while Viv was critically ill, and Erik and Jane prayed for me, on my mobile, for Viv.  After that, I was able to get some sleep, which gave me the strength to cope next day.  That phone-call was a life-line.  I have been blessed with wonderful companions who have comforted, supported and guided me in difficult times, and shared joys and contentments too.  I call them my guardian angels.  As I said at my 60th birthday, "I thank God for guardian angels and I thank God for friends".

He has been teaching me the reality of "In all ways Acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths"  ...... Shall, not maybe.  And I know He keeps his promises, (but not necessarily in the way we expect them), and that His compassions for our frailties are renewed every day.

12.3.06