I Grew Up Here.

There’s a phrase you’ll hear often in Christian spaces: Everybody has a story.

I believe that. In fact, it’s one of the reasons The Hem & Twelve newsletter exists.

I am a strong believer that we don’t have to go through everything ourselves in order to grow from it. There is wisdom in someone else’s journey. Someone else’s lesson can become our wisdom. Someone else’s testimony can strengthen our faith. Someone else’s encounter with God can remind us of who He is.

That’s the heart behind this newsletter.

Each edition will invite a different voice to the table to share what God has taught them through real life. You’ll hear stories about waiting, obedience, disappointment, healing, relationships, purpose, grief, joy, mistakes, ordinary moments, and everything in between. Some stories will have beautiful endings. Others will still be unfolding.

My hope is that as you read them, you’ll feel like you’re sitting across the table from someone who loves you, saying, “Here’s what happened to me. Here’s what God taught me. And maybe you don’t have to go through it yourself to learn something from it too.”

But because this is the very first newsletter, I thought it was only right that I go first.

And my story is actually pretty simple:

I stayed.

I grew up in church.

I honestly don’t remember missing many Sundays unless my family was out of town. My closest friends growing up came from church. There was even a point in my life when I was at church five or six days a week, not because I worked there, but simply because there was work to be done.

Tuesday was Bible study. Wednesday was midweek service. Thursday was creatives practice—worship team, dance team, actors preparing for whatever production we had coming up. Friday was usually a youth event or young adults event. Then Saturday and Sunday were weekend services.

Church wasn’t something my family squeezed into our schedule. It was woven into the rhythm of our lives. But somewhere along the way, the God I had been taught about became the God I experienced for myself.

I was in middle school when I had my first personal encounter with the Holy Spirit. I was away at camp, and during worship, I physically felt someone hug me. I opened my eyes expecting someone to be standing there. No one was. I had never experienced anything like it before. I knew about God, but that night, I experienced His presence for myself.

Then there was Easter.

I was part of our church’s dance ministry, and we were performing during an Easter production. While “Jesus” hung on the cross, we portrayed angels walking down the aisles toward Him. There was a moment in the choreography when a few of us reached our hands toward the cross. I looked up. The man portraying Jesus looked down at me, the crown of thorns on his head as he hung there, and suddenly tears began streaming down my face. All I could think was, Thank You, Jesus. Thank You for taking up the cross for me. I was young, but the cross became personal. And to think, that was only the beginning.

As I grew older, I watched people I loved experience things that weren’t part of my story.

I watched friends experience loss. I watched families navigate divorce. I saw people leave church and eventually come back. I watched people have to find freedom and healing from choices they made while carrying baggage from seasons they wished they could undo. But that wasn’t my story.

I got to be a kid. I got to reap the harvest of seeds my parents had sown before I even understood what they were planting.

My parents made the decision that the stories handed down to them would not have to become mine. Because of that, I grew up in a home where love and joy overflowed. They found a way for me to live in a great neighborhood, attend great schools, go on family vacations, and experience stability, all while they were learning about God themselves.

For a long time, I didn’t think there was anything particularly interesting about my testimony. There wasn’t a dramatic moment when I ran away from God and came back. I grew up in church. I encountered God for myself at a young age. And I never turned back.

That’s my testimony.

I abided.

When life became hard, confusing, disappointing, or questionable, I went to God because He was the only place I knew to go.

And the older I get, the more I realize what a testimony that is.

I want someone reading this to know that it is possible to live in a broken world without allowing the brokenness of the world to become your identity.

It is possible to know God young and continue knowing Him. It is possible to be surrounded by things that promise satisfaction and still choose Him.

That doesn’t mean you will live perfectly. Scripture tells us that we all fall short.

The question is: What do you do next? When you fall short, do you go to God? Or do you run and hide from Him?

Two Gardens, Two Responses

It’s fitting that for the first newsletter, we go all the way back to the first people Scripture introduces us to.

Adam and Eve had been given an incredible life. God created mankind in His image. He blessed them, gave them authority, placed them in the garden, and gave them access to its abundance… with one restriction.

Before sin entered the picture, Scripture tells us that Adam and Eve were both naked and felt no shame. There was an innocence to their relationship with one another and with God. Nothing to cover. Nothing to conceal. Nothing to hide.

Then came the serpent. His strategy began with a question:

“Did God really say...?”

He introduced doubt about something God had already made clear. And thousands of years later, that strategy really hasn’t changed much. Did God really say you need to wait? Does obedience really matter that much? Is that really wrong? Why can’t you have what everyone else has? Would God really withhold something good from you?

Adam and Eve listened.

They ate from the tree, and immediately something changed. The same nakedness that had once carried no shame suddenly became something they felt the need to cover.

And then they heard God. Genesis 3 tells us that when they heard the sound of God walking in the garden, they hid from His presence. Think about that. The God they had once walked freely with was now the God they were hiding from. God called out,

“Where are you?”

Not because an all-knowing God had somehow lost track of them. Their sin had changed their posture toward Him. What had once been intimacy became hiding. What had once been innocence became shame. And isn’t that still one of the enemy’s greatest strategies? First, he tempts us to question what God said. Then, when we fall, he uses shame to convince us to hide from the very God we need.

That’s why I believe one of the most important decisions we can make isn’t simply what we do when we’re tempted. It’s also what we do when we get it wrong. We all fall short. But what is your next step? Do you cover yourself and hide like Adam and Eve? Or do you run back to God?

This is why knowing the Word of God for yourself is so important. Because if you don’t know what God said, anything that sounds close enough can begin to sound true. The enemy’s question in the garden was designed to make Eve question something God had already spoken.

Now contrast that with Jesus in the wilderness. Jesus was also confronted by the enemy. Satan tempted Him. He questioned Him. He offered Him things outside of the Father’s way. But Jesus didn’t debate him. He didn’t entertain every possibility. He didn’t allow the enemy to redefine what His Father had spoken. He answered with Scripture.

“It is written.”

Again.

“It is written.”

Again.

“It is written.”

Jesus knew the Word, and the enemy couldn’t convince Him to exchange truth for temporary satisfaction. That’s the kind of rootedness I want. And it’s the kind I want for you. Because abiding doesn’t mean you’ll never be tempted, never struggle, or never get something wrong.

Abiding means you know where home is.

And when everything around you, or even your own shame, tries to convince you to hide, you know how to find your way back to the presence of God.

In John 15:7–8, Jesus says:

“If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, you will ask what you desire, and it shall be done for you. By this My Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit; so you will be My disciples.”

Notice that abiding isn’t simply knowing about Jesus. It’s remaining. Staying connected. Letting His Word live in you. Abiding is choosing Him when life is good and choosing Him when life makes absolutely no sense. It’s knowing His voice well enough that when another voice asks, “Did God really say?” something inside of you already knows the answer.

There will be things in this world that look easier. There will be things that seem more satisfying. There will be moments when obedience feels like you’re missing out while everyone else gets to live freely.

Stay anyway. Stay in His presence. Stay in His Word. Stay when you understand Him and when you don’t. Stay when the prayer gets answered and when you’re still waiting. Stay when you feel Him and when you don’t.

Abide, because the One asking you to trust Him is also the One who formed you. He knows you better than you know yourself. He knows what you need. He knows what you’re capable of carrying. He knows what will destroy you, what will develop you, and where He’s leading you.

I’ve had beautiful encounters with God. I’ve had prayers answered. I’ve also had hard seasons, unanswered questions, disappointments, and moments when God’s way wasn’t the easiest option. I’ve learned that my job isn’t to take control every time I don’t understand the route. My job is to remain.

My story may never be the most dramatic testimony in the room.

I’m okay with that because I can look back over my life and see the fruit of a simple decision made over and over again:

I stayed.

If you remember nothing else from my story, I hope you remember this, God is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

The God I encountered as a middle-school girl at camp is the God who is with me today. The God who met me while I looked toward a cross in an Easter production is the same God who has met me in countless ordinary moments since. What He has done in my life is possible for you.

You don’t need a dramatic story to have a powerful testimony. You don’t have to wander far away before you’re allowed to know God deeply. And if you have wandered, you haven’t gone so far that you cannot turn toward Him again.

Whether you have known Him for 30 years or you’re just beginning to wonder who He is, your next step can be toward Him.

Give God full control.

Know His Word.

Learn His voice.

And when the world gives you a thousand reasons to walk away…

STAY.

With Love,

Arielle | @arie.smiles