Hello, readers.
I am Cimone. I haven't blogged in a long time, so right now I want to start. I am twenty-one years old (twenty-two in a month and a half, woohoo!), and I want to tell you my life story, but that would be a lot. Instead, I'll tell some pieces. I have loved words for a long time, so tonight I'll talk about words, from both a secular and a spiritual perspective.
I came to know Jesus in elementary school, and I was told at a young age that my primary calling was prophecy (hearing and relaying messages from God). I thought that this was cool, and I got some use out of this gift, but at that time I had know idea how to steward it or cultivate it. For example when I was about eleven, I went on a trip to a church gathering, with some other young people at my church.
During a service, we were given raffle tickets. I heard God say something about my raffle ticket. I needed to use the restroom, so I thought I heard Him say "It's okay to leave your raffle ticket on the seat, because the raffle won't be drawn until you get back." I think that I misheard, because the raffle ended up being drawn while I was in the restroom, and it was my number. They had to choose someone else. The prize was an iPod (because this was back in 2006, before everyone in the world had music on their phone). It wasn't a big deal, but it taught me to listen a bit more carefully when I heard prophetic words. The Lord told me something major in summer of 2009, around the time of my fifteenth birthday, but I can't go into detail right now, because I have yet to fully understand what that word means in my life.
Here is a side note about me loving linguistics: I love linguistics. Throughout ninth grade, every time someone asked me what I would major in when I went to college, I said linguistics. It is beautiful to me that every language has its nuances. In tenth grade, I found out that there was a field called cognitive science, a combination of linguistics, psychology, neurology, philosophy and computer science--basically, the study of mental processes such as memory and language acquisition. Cognitive science fascinated me, and became my go-to answer for a long time. One day, my dad and I went to a lecture about cognitive science at his college class reunion. The professor giving the lecture showed a video of a woman who was physically unable to speak. She had a device connected to her that could pick up her brainwaves and turn them into words. It was really, really cool. So, from there, I progressed to the mission of giving a voice to those who have no voice. I ended up majoring in Communication Disorders for my first year and a half of college. I loved it, and I still do. I could sit and talk about childhood language acquisition all day.
As for the spiritual aspect, as a teenager, I thought that prophetic words were things I could receive once in a while. I thought that you had to be at a certain level of authority in order to hear from God every day. I also began to pray less as a high school senior, because I struggled with suicidal depression. I do not say this lightly, and this topic definitely needs its own blog post. I was under the mistaken impression that I was too dirty and sinful to talk to God. I thought that I needed to solve my own problem of depression before I could approach Him. This is absolutely not true. You can always go to God, no matter what state you are in. And you can't clean yourself up--you need Him to do that.
A turning point happened during my sophomore year of college (September 2013). I had battled depression for over two years, and I had started going to a church at the University of Houston. But I kept everyone in the church at arm's length for a while, because I was afraid that if they got too close to me, they would find out about my depression, and they would no longer want to be around me. My thinking was "Lord, why do I have to be in a church family? Can't I just go to church and worship you, and then go home?" The church had a retreat called Belonging Weekend, and I did not want to go at all. I thought "I don't want to belong to this church. I don't want anyone getting to know me." But I felt like God was telling me to go. So, I went. The very first night of Belonging Weekend, a preacher whose name I don't even remember gave a profound message about being in Christ and casting off our old identities. At the end, I went to the altar call. In a moment, God took away my depression, my shame and my suicidal thoughts. All I did was weep on the floor for what seemed like half an hour. I had never felt so free. I heard God say "I will fill you up so much with My Spirit, that anything in you that didn't come from me (including depression), will not be inside you anymore." At that moment, I didn't know all of the implications of being filled with the Holy Spirit, but I loved it. So began a huge adventure.
I want to share more, but this post is getting long, so I will make a part two. Happy trails, readers! Please feel free to leave questions or comments.
