My Testimony Part I: "A story of God's faithfulness"

Our God is a story teller. Perhaps that's why I get so drawn into the narrative that is unfolding all around me, not only in my own life but in the lives of those I meet. I would love to spend time writing all of the wild and beautiful stories of those I've come to know, but they aren't my stories to tell...no, they have a voice and are to share their own testimony, and I am to share mine. We overcome by the blood of the lamb and the word of our testimony and so here is my my story, here is my song, praising my Savior all the day long. 

Kona Hawaii  2018

My name is Chelsea Chaisson and this is my story. I feel led to share it in more detail as I believe through sharing my story, the handiwork and faithfulness of God will be on display. It is my hope that after you read my story, you too will look at your own story, even write it down and maybe share it, with the goal of truly analyzing how faithful God has been in your life as well.

I was born in Raceland, Louisiana in June of 1993. I was raised in a Christian home. I was water baptized as a confession of my faith in the Lord Jesus Christ when I was in 3rd grade, the local congregation I attended had me even answer theological questions to attest to my full knowledge of what I was committing to, a life I more fully understand 21 years later, is truly lived loved by and in love with Jesus. I was baptized in the Holy Spirit at the age of 7, shortly after my water baptism. My parents were traveling music evangelists, and I met all types of Christians as a child, missionaries, pastors, evangelists, singer/songwriters, etc. I always loved going to their concerts and playing with missionary family kids. I never knew hunger or lack, though my parents lived by faith in God for our families’ needs, especially finances.

As a child, I loved to be outside, swimming, or with cousins. Very early in life, around the same time I first was water baptized and filled with the Holy Spirit, tragedy struck in my relatives’ lives. I was desperately seeking to help in some way, yet I lacked maturity and began people pleasing those around me in an effort to cope with the mourning my young heart began to experience.  

Besides people pleasing, my heart did learn how to cope in other ways, some good, some very wrong. For example, I would sit in the mirror and cry for moments until I felt like God heard my plea and would bring me comfort. Or, in that same season I began escaping/ coping by losing my thoughts through music, mainly Christian tunes, some secular bands if I was around “bad” influences. Unfortunately, in the same season, to cope with a pain I had never before experienced, nor thought was truly “mine” to cope with, I ran into the arms of anyone who might love me in the way I found love to be given in the movies I consumed.

As you may be picking up on, because there was a deep tragedy that struck my relatives, it really hit home and shifted the trajectory of my life in more ways than one. Not only in those years did I begin to fantasize by getting lost in film and music, I also began running into the arms of almost any and everyone who might be able to lead me, in doing so I became heavily fearful of man and lived to people please everyone. In all of this time, I was a “young” in faith and stature, believer. I would turn to God, while listening to those songs, or crying in the mirror, but for the most part, I ran to “man”/people to lead me out of emotional and true pain.

So I grew up on into elementary then middle school learning bad habits and seeking the approval of “man”. I had a deep growing grid for God and knew that He was indeed real and that I did need a savior but I kept Him at arm's length and only really turned to Him when I felt like I had done something wrong, or needed Him to boost my confidence in some way.

Through this time of adolescence, I actually invited friends to church events with me, and led some through “inner healing” from sexual abuse, and lead others to invite the Lord into their hearts as well. God was faithful to use me as a mouthpiece of hope, love, and truth in that season even if it was only for my own gain, like in popularity or friendship or perhaps I did those things in an effort to “people please”. From a young age, I did recognize how life could hurt and that we all experienced brokenness. I reasoned, that if I needed Jesus to “cope”, so did they.

I then entered into high school, my record was pretty clean. I hadn’t done much to be ashamed of, though I had dabbled in unhealthy childlike romance. My coping from childhood turned into normalcy and I was definitely ripe for the grabbing. I was quickly swayed to and fro from “mentors” who wanted me to climb the romantic ladder publicly. Not only that, I had become officially a “pk”, as my parents planted a Church right around my 8th and 9th grade year. I then began lying, cheating, binge dieting, cursing, listening to secular music regularly, and playing sports. All the while, I was going to church, teaching the kids in Sunday School, volunteering at VBS’s, and attending Christian Summer Youth Camps. I was now living a double life. I had little to no boundaries and listened to the advice of peers who I wanted to gain approval from. I was popular in school but not for any of the reasons I may have been back in elementary and middle school, that of “helping” others but rather for being pretty selfish and self-centered.

However, in high school, I continuously had the Holy Spirit lead and guide me into all truth. I remember being at a friends’ party, where we, all underage, were drinking. Suddenly, the door burst open and in came the mothers of two of my friends who were hosting the party. They were drunk and laughing on the shoulders of two random, muscular, men. We talked and laughed with these ladies and then I remember being pulled aside by one of my friends who’s mom had just walked in. He was seemingly crying to me about how he hated that His mom partied like that and brought home random men. Then I remember talking briefly to the drunk momma who grabbed me and brought me close to her to tell me that she considered me to be her little “protégé” and best friend. Granted we had just met, but regardless, she too began to seemingly cry out to me about how sad she was that her son didn’t like her, “is that why she allowed her son to throw this party at her house and provided us with booze? To appease her son?” I wondered. Even in that moment, I had a somewhat vain pastoral heart. I wanted this lady to like me, but I couldn’t help but notice the similar spirit of “people pleasing” brewing out of her heart and immature love for her son.

After about a few hours of this “adult” party, I remember suddenly a loud thump at the door of the house. Suddenly, two other grown men barged in the door full blown on a rampage, angry and then initiating a fight with the original men that had escorted the women back home. I watched grown men throw one another to the ground and pummel each other, with blood literally flying around and glass items becoming shattered. This was shocking, scary, and had my “Holy Spirit” radar definitely punching me hard with thoughts like, “is this really what I want my life to be like? Look at this, the boy is crying that His mom is jumping from men to men, and is a drunk, while he too doesn’t even consider that the very thing He hates about His mom, he as a young man is just continuing said cycle? When does it end? Someone has to decide to stop this? This is too shaky of a life, do you really want this Chelsea? You don’t belong here! You need to leave!”

Though this party truly instilled a deep fear of the darkness, I continued to dabble in this genre of life. Eventually, I had come to the “end of myself” or as the prodigal did in the bible, I came to my senses. Parties and popularity were like “chasing the wind”. No matter how popular I became or how drunk I was, it was never enough for those around me, nor for the enemy for that matter. I still didn’t measure up and to my gratitude now, unapologetically this lifestyle literally spit me out. It was okay to lie, cheat, curse, and party with them but not to lie to them. I became a product of my mentors, mentoring others towards this dark path, and yet when I used my new skills of selfishness against these party comrades, I crossed a line even too low for these to forgive. I learned there quickly that only God really cared about who I was, regardless of what I did or did not do, how I felt or did not feel. I was trying to please the wrong one(s) my whole life. I wasn’t created to please man, but to please God. Through drunkenness and romantic flings, I was trying to make my failures, shortcomings, spiritual ugliness, and pain numb, and yet the very tool I used to medicate, eventually bit me in the butt and showed its true colors. With this secular crowd, I found no love, no forgiveness, no truth, no peace, no life, just judgments.

I basically hung out with the wrong crowd in the 9th grade for about a 3 month period. Throughout that time, I could not shake the unsettling in my spirit, that my body in fact hosted the very presence of God, and God didn’t think being drunk, or hooking up, or lying to my parents was in any way shape or form, fun. I had a knowing in that 3 month period that my life was to be lived for more. I knew of something my “worldly” friends did not, I knew of true hope and life-fulfilling purpose as only can truly be found in Christ Jesus. I also knew of deep relationships that honored commitment, purity, love, forgiveness, healing, trust, and friendship. So after I was “spit out” from the ways of the world, I really needed to make a re-commitment unto the Lord and needed to be spiritually cleansed.  He who saved me 2000 years ago, or in my heart, when I was 7, was strong enough to keep me through all of those years and so He came and rescued me in the most humbling way and lowly/ lonely of places.

The breaking point and time of rescue came when I cheated on someone who was best friends with someone who was dating one of my best friends.  I remember going home after school one day, knowing I was being talked about and maybe “cyber” bullied and all I could do after reading a very mean note from a few friends was to run to the top of my roof back home. I sat there on the roof of my parent’s house and looked at the vast sky over our yard and cried. In that moment, I heard a still small voice tell me, “no matter if they all leave you, I am still here. I have always been here Chelsea”. Right then and there, I re-committed my life to my original friend, Jesus, the one who didn’t care if I had makeup on or if I was a virgin or not, or if my parents were pastors, or if I was crying. He didn’t look at all of those things. No, Jesus looked straight into me and really saw me. He knew me, where could I have run from His love. After that day, I remember that I didn’t have friends for a while back at school, nor did my own closest relatives even like me anymore for stooping so low, but I did know that it was going to be okay and that things were going to be different. I needed to leave this lifestyle and so this was my way out. I not only was spit out but I choose not to run back. I choose to move forward, just me and G (God).

Now, just because I felt “rescued by God” in some way, it didn’t mean I was perfect, far from it. Although I knew God loved me, looking back now, I realize that I didn’t truly make a hard core decision to recommit my life to Jesus. No, I think I made a recommitment to “do me”, life apart from the peer pressure of the party people and into perhaps new arms. I fumbled through 9th grade, trying to make up for my wrongs, I buried my time in dating, sports, clubs, church, and making new friends. I still choose to keep Jesus at bay.

With a break from all of the busyness and numbness of my life, in my summer into 10th grade I was clear headed enough and stayed still long enough to reckon that I in fact needed to finally and officially re-dedicate my life back to the Lord. I knew I had done it before. I legit probably asked Jesus in to my life like 100 times, answering numerous altar calls, but I wasn’t quite 100%.  So at a Christian summer camp I remember feeling the weight of my sin, shame, Hell, and my destiny. I felt the weight of having said yes to Jesus and then time and time again all the while “prostituting” my heart into the arms of other “loves/lovers” (idols: boyfriends, sports, ministry). So at that camp, I did choose to say yes again to Jesus but this time, I wanted my Yes to be YES, and my no to be No. I did not want to just be a good little church girl who tried to save all of her broken friends. No I wanted to outwardly use my personality, gifts, loud speaking voice, and boldness to somehow vocalize about Jesus and the love I had experienced in Him throughout my life. He had given me countless second chances and breathed life back into my bones. He created me to give Him everything and in turn receive a heavenly eternal life full of peace, joy, hope, and a good future.

So at that Summer Camp into my 10th grade year,  I made many bold proclamations in times of worship to Jesus, I answered almost every altar call, and I ended a few toxic relationships as seemed fitting to my new found commitment.  From then on, I struggled as a sinner saved by grace with a “bad” name and with some of the same ways but the less aggressive version/forms. I remember, one of the first days back in school after my summer camp salvation/re-commitment, I walked to my new group of friends. It was the early morning just before classes officially started and while one of my friends was chatting, I couldn’t help but notice the group of people holding hands and praying in the corner. My heart began beating within my chest and I knew what I had to do. I needed to make my re-dedication to Jesus more public, not just in front of Christian peers at a summer camp, but I needed to start my 10th grade year off right, publicly declaring my commitment to Jesus to my peers from the past, my newfound friends, to myself, and to Jesus.

I asked my friend to pause our conversation and then I began walking, without looking back, though I felt as though the eyes of the world were resting on each step. I proceeded to join hands with a few of the Christians in the corner and we prayed for our day and week. I felt rejuvenated, as if I had done the most epic thing ever. More epic than getting drunk in front of my friends, more epic than pulling off a lie to my parents, more epic and exhilarating than running from the cops, more epic than getting the guy…I felt finally FREE to be ME at my high school.

With this new freedom, I definitely didn’t shy away from the tough questions like, “why weren’t you at the party?”, “Why don’t you want to date me anymore?”, “why don’t you drink anymore?”, “why doesn’t God let us smoke pot, He made it, didn’t He?” With every question, I just became more passionate about Jesus and my public stance for Him. However, as publicly as I had become about my relationship to Jesus, I became sort of a “touch me not” Christian, a Pharisee fleeing from that which was “unclean”. Unfortunately this looked like me judging peers very harshly on their lifestyles, especially the lifestyle like my old one.

I remained outwardly clean in this season and yet, looking back now, I see that I only allowed Jesus to clean the outside of the basin, withholding truly the deepest part of my heart. Jesus did work with what I gave Him. I released to Him my reputation and offered “outreach” unto the King. With this outreach focus came the most random and life changing opportunities from God to leave Louisiana and so experience a life outside of my small bubble and Christian worldview. It was the summer leaning into my 11th grade year. I signed up to go on my first mission’s trip to Mexico. Similarly, that same summer the opportunity opened to me to go to France and Washington D.C. with my high school.

In D.C. the main things that stuck with me, was that I heard questions and answers from my peers with our Congressman that deeply troubled me to the condition of my generation. We were in fact a passionate bunch with many open doors and invitations and yet, all of our passions seemed very misplaced and oddly dull in comparison to the passion I had experienced in deep times of worship back at my summer camp, where I publicly declared to God, “I surrender all, use me, fill me up, be my desire, be my everything, nothing else matters. You can have it all”. No, my peers were concerned that the “don’t ask don’t tell” law was in effect, similarly, they argued as to why marijuana should be legalized. I wasn’t impressed at all with these vain notions. I was more displeased that my generation solely spoke up and out for things that don’t give life.  I remember my blood boiling in a way as I listened to the same oh same tune of my peers discussing partying and hooking up as we attended this educational government program. We were truly created to be bold and to lead…but we are passionate about the wrong pursuits.

In France, I really struggled “not to be conformed to the patterns of this world but to be transformed by the renewing of my mind,” Romans 12:2. I feel in love with the people, language, and culture, yet, I failed to make any particular “Christian” difference while I was an exchange student. I absorbed more than I transformed. Those same passions I had tried to die to, like alcoholism, reared its ugly head as I was tested to the core in this vain sin here. I resisted temptation, time and time again, until I eventually caved into the influence of my peers to again, connect in the only way we all knew how, via alcohol and parties. Sadly, I left France feeling as though I had not only given Jesus a bad rep, but I was so hypocritical to my new found faith that I felt completely discouraged to ever go anywhere with the hopes of making a difference for Jesus. No, I felt the fear of man and people pleasing were always going to get the best of me and I felt I would always cave into being like the world around me.

In Mexico, God wrecked me to never really want to travel again unless I specifically had a “Jesus mission” in mind. All of my “sins” and shortcomings in France, felt forgiven, and so I jumped into Mexico in deep hopes to right all that I did wrong in France. I grew close to orphans, played soccer with street kids, handed out beans and candy to locals, helped build a church, boldly led worship at a church among peers, and in all of these moments, my past failures in 9th grade, and in France, felt washed away, not necessarily because of my works but because I had repented. I felt so much more alive, and free and like I had real purpose in being there. I felt like I had a lot of love to share and gifts to give; I also wasn’t left alone to my vices. I had encouragement on this “mission” field and my heart felt radically made for such a lifestyle of encouraging fellow believers to be bold for Jesus, and directly impacting the communities through mercy ministries and evangelism.

On to my 11th grade year, I began taking school more seriously, and really worked on my resume. I maintained good grades and continued to be in sports, clubs, and prayed with the Christians (club) in the morning. The coolest part of 11th grade was being able to host an exchange student from France. The same girl who hosted me while I was in France, came to my home. I tried to model a different life with her than those hosting other French exchange students. We didn’t go to Mardi Gras parades, nor did I take her to drinking parties. I brought her to church and we actually became greater friends. Looking back on this time of life, where I was with Jesus was “clean” but less of a relationship and that more of an employee friend-ship. I knew I was a passionate person, and now my passions were set on Jesus, I did everything unto His glory…it was about what I could “do” now for Him mostly. Two things happened in my heart then, I really felt like God was going to make me a French Missionary (because I needed to go back as a re-du for Jesus in France) and I wanted to show God just how passionate I was in fact about all things Jesus. I continued to create a divide on what I did or did not do based on “clean” or “unclean”…I continued to label works and worst of all, people in these categories, unfortunately. Looking back, I see how immature my Christian journey up to this point sounds. I treated my relationship with Jesus as a career and worked to clean up my old record. I continued going to summer camps though and so my knowledge of God was only growing, and He did continue to stir up passion inside of my heart to live for Him. However, I still didn’t feel like I was living with Him.

In 12th grade, I began driving, I had my first official job, I read the Word of God before bed, and I began coordinating a Battle of The Bands youth event at my parents’ church. This season, I had tons of fun getting to know Christian young people from around the US. At the same time, I attended a few Foursquare conferences with my parents and had a growing sense of how large “the Church” (believers around the globe) is. There were pastors at that conference from around the world; I met some from France, Mexico, and Canada specifically. God became very “big” in my eyes as I could tell how He had been faithfully pursuing every person I had ever known (peers and coworkers), those I had just met (missionaries) and myself.

I was really praying about going to Bible College during this time, and put names of Colleges in a hat to pull from in order to “hear from God” on where to go. I truly had a deep hunger for more of God. I was beginning to see how on this side, the Christian lifestyle, there was more fun to be had and sober. On this side, there were so many godly connections in my hometown, like in Hammond and Georgia (Battle of the Bands), Africa and France (missionaries with Foursquare)! I was sold out on wanting to continue to live for God as I had saw the fruit this life had produced thus far and could produce down the road. I life of true satisfaction, I life of pleasing God, were peace could pass all understanding, and being fully known and loved was not only possible but also tangible.

My life in the 12th grade was consumed with visiting youth groups, going to conferences, learning music, event planning, promoting the Battle of the Bands to my entire high school, all the while keeping a part time job in the city, with all types of people, i.e. wiccans and homosexuals. This time I really can see now how God was developing me to in fact be in the world, but to not love the world as to get sucked into the influence of rebellion and sin against God there. No, He was giving me in this season a special love for the people of God’s ever large and growing “Ohana” while at the same time making those of the world seem less scary, dark, or even “unclean”, but rather “naked and ashamed” and in need of love, just like I was. He was showing me that I indeed did have a great light to offer the world, a light of hope and joy, but I would only make an impact via relationship. Relationship with them but more importantly, God was asking to deepen my relationship with Him, for in Him, and only Him, could I move, live, and have my being.

I grew a lot as a Christian leader with planning and executing those Battle of the Bands in this time. Not for the execution nor works it took to pull off the event, but I developed as a leader for the sake of community and relationships. I was inviting any and all to the “Battle”, and needed to learn how to serve others before myself. I learned how to have grace with people like volunteers as a leader, learned how to invite guests into my region, and learned how to truly care for and invite “unsaved/unclean” attendees like classmates and fellow coworkers to these gatherings. I loved every second of it, and found great joy serving God.

I have to say, this year of my life as a senior in high school, 2011, my faith and joy was tested, after getting in a car wreck just before graduation (this car wreck helped solidify a decision to go to a Bible College in British Columbia Canada for music and the wreck brought about me learning how to play guitar). However, my faith and life calling were also strongly encouraged in this season.

The most precious of memories in my senior year was when I again hosted a French exchange student, a Muslim. We hosted a Battle of the Bands while she was with us, and for the other French exchange students in our region. At this event, students from my high school ditched the Mardi Gras parade to listen to rock and roll/ indie music and the gospel that Jesus Christ died for the sins of mankind and rose again, conquering death, sin, hell and the grave in order to have a relationship with all of mankind. I have to admit, I was recognizing at this time in my life, a deep gift of a shepherd’s heart for my peers though there was still much “fear of man” attacking my confidence in Christ. My heart desired to live for evangelism to the lost, like among my co-workers, but deeper, I can see how strong the call to be a missionary to foreigners only grew with hosting these exchange students, if only I could find my voice and confidently preach about God and His goodness.

Especially since, in their neck of the woods, France, I hadn’t remained as firm in my faith as I would have liked, in my “neck of the woods”, I had become a confident and deeply held accountable Christian young person. Yet, I still in my heart of hearts for some reason, was a bit “ashamed of the gospel of Christ”. I wasn’t confident that I knew Jesus that much. I had up to this point only seen glimpses of this powerful God whom I began to serve with all diligence.

The Lord still faithfully produced fruit, no matter how ashamed of the gospel I had thought I was, for fear of man. I knew God had done something despite my weakness when the girl I hosted this second exchange student time made this comment, “if all Christians were like you Chelsea, and your/the “church” (my high school friends, Battle of the Bands, my family) in France, I too might become one and I think many more people in France would be Christian.” She had only seen Christians in her region as rude, judgmental, and self-righteous. To my greatest joy, I had shown her a different way, rather, God in me, had shown her a different way, a way of love.  This not only continued to stir up a passion inside of me to be a missionary, especially to the French world, but in general, if I could have that effect on just one person imagine if I went out into the world living for Jesus…no matter my past, or how imperfect, weak, or at times ashamed of the gospel I could be, God could really use me to impact someone unto Himself.

I had made a positive impact in someone else’s life. To her, I really practiced what I preached, I was loving, welcoming, passionate, and pure. I just knew that I had to go to Bible College and grow in my love for Jesus so that I could radiate His love to the world all the more and in the process really and truly get to know the one I had been preaching/modeling.

To be continued…

#faithfulnesspart1