Growing up in Ethiopia, I was introduced to the idea of God at a very young age. Ethiopia is mentioned several times in the Bible, so speaking about God there was never considered taboo. Because of this, I always knew of God's existence, but I didn't give it much thought. I was taught that He was behind everything that happens in the world.

     My mother, who was around 15 years old, had an arranged marriage with my father, who was much older than her and already married to two other women, making her his third wife. After having my older sister and me, she tragically passed away from an unknown disease when I was about 1 1/2 years old. Without a biological mother to care for us, our father decided it was best to put my sister and me up for adoption.

     I lived in an orphanage, waiting to be adopted. During that time, I learned to take care of myself and my emotions. The nannies at the orphanage didn't have time to parent the children; their primary concern was ensuring we had our meals and weren't in any grave danger. As a result, I learned to parent myself. There was no one to tell me they loved me or to comfort me when nightmares struck. I didn't have the best upbringing, and being my own parent meant there was no one to correct me when I did something wrong. I spent my most crucial learning years in an orphanage, missing out on the emotional and physical connection with a parent that’s essential for healthy growth.

     Over the years, my heart grew cold and closed off to God because I believed He was responsible for everything that had happened in my life. I felt so alone, with no one there for me emotionally or physically. I was not a pleasant person to be around, filled with anger and resentment towards everything and everyone—especially God. To me, He wasn't worth thinking about because He was the one who made everything happen. I felt abandoned, and it was up to me to create a good life for myself.

    When I was around 7 years old, I was finally adopted and got to have a family. Although I thought my life would be perfect now that I had a family, it was much harder than I had imagined. I had to relearn everything, and what I thought I knew about family life was nothing like I had envisioned. I was adopted by a missionary family and went to church every Sunday for many years, but my heart remained closed off.

     As I got older, I began to compare myself more and more to my peers and noticed the many differences between them and me. I was jealous of my friends who had parents from birth. I envied how they didn’t have to work hard to earn their parents' love and believed that unconditional love only existed between biological parents and their children. The older I got, the more I disliked God. I thought I didn’t like Him when I was younger, but as I became more aware, the little differences I noticed fueled my anger and distanced me from Him. It was easier to blame all the bad things on God and praise myself for the good things in my life. I continued to go to church and attend church camps but still kept my heart closed off to God. Even when He was calling my name, I covered my ears to avoid hearing Him.

     The summer before 8th grade, God finally broke through to me at a summer church camp. The previous school year had been very difficult, and I was struggling mentally, finding it hard to continue living. My life felt meaningless, and I couldn’t see the point of living a meaningless life. I only went to camp to hang out with my friends, with no intention of getting closer to God or letting Him into my heart. The camp was a five-day retreat, and I had fun with my friends, but on the fourth night during worship, something changed in me, and I started to pay more attention. The music team had just taught us a new song, and it was exactly what I needed to hear. God spoke to me through the lyrics.

     After feeling so alone for so many years, God had me singing the words, "Even when I don’t see it, You’re working. Even when I don’t feel it, You’re working." As soon as I sang these lyrics, tears streamed down my cheeks. When the first song finished, we began singing the next one, which said, "O come to the altar, the Father’s arms are open wide." Before the song was even over, I was in the bathroom, ugly crying, barely able to breathe. I had no idea what was happening to me at that moment because I had never cried that hard before. But now I realize that the Holy Spirit was stirring up these emotions in me, showing me that everything that had happened in my life happened for a reason and that God had been with me the whole time. He had never left my side. I felt the Spirit telling me that it would all be worth it, that God had a plan for my life, and that I needed to have an open heart to begin understanding it all and embrace the new opportunities ahead.

Right there in that bathroom, I gave my life to Christ while bawling my eyes out. The feeling afterward was the best I had ever experienced—I felt like I was walking on clouds. All the pressure and weight seemed to lift off me, and my perspective on life began to change. I left the camp a brand-new person, and I can still feel that moment as if it happened yesterday.

​     Ever since then, I have been deeply in love with God, continually learning and striving to be more like Jesus. To this day, I am still discovering what it truly means to be a follower of Christ. I have cherished becoming best friends with God over the years and am excited to see where this relationship will lead me.