THE POWER OF MY TESTIMONY

by Gittel Fruma

Hope.

It’s a precious treasure, is it not? Hope gives us permission to dream. It assures us that we will make it. It drives us to work for a better future. It invests in ashes. Hope sustains us. Of all the audacious, illogical, ludicrous things I have ever done in my life, the greatest of them has been to hope.

The word of God says in Revelations 12:11 that at the end of time, satan will eventually be defeated by “the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony.” I have no part in the blood of Jesus, other than to accept it. Jesus did that work and there is nothing left for me to do. But I have full control over the word of my testimony and there is power in it.

When I share what God has done and is doing in my life, I am accessing one of the greatest sources of power in the universe. As Psalm 126 says, “The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad.”

These great things are my finished testimonies. My ark of remembrance holds gleaming, brilliant gems from the past, the completed works that God has done. He has brought healing, reconciliation, provision, salvation, and more. He has done wonders upon wonders for me. These are my manna, preserved, so I might remember what God has brought me through.

I take out these gems and show them to people. I show them to my son. I show them to my unsaved family. I show them to those around me who are struggling. I turn them around in my hands, letting the light pass through all of their facets. Each of their glittering hearts holds a piece of God’s splendor. These were all ashes, but now they are all beauty. These are my polished testimonies.

There is another box of testimonies, though. This one is shoved into a corner. The contents of the box are raw and disorganized. Some of its innards are so painful, I can’t allow myself to look at them. This haphazard container holds the testimonies in progress. They are ugly. They are embarrassing. Sometimes they feel like betrayal.

We are constantly confronted with the evidence of darkness in this world. We struggle with sickness, poverty, grief, loneliness, hunger, hostility, and loss. None of us is immune to the fallen nature of our world.

Sometimes, I want to hide my box of brokenness. I don’t want others to see me bleed when I pick up its jagged pieces. I don’t want to appear vulnerable or weak. I don’t want to show people that everything isn’t finished yet. What if it leads people to think God isn’t faithful? What if it makes people question what I say I believe? What if things will always be this way? How can I face this reality?

I live in this box right now. I will always live in this box. This present box of hardship is my lot. I say it without bitterness because it is a simple truth. I will live in this world until I leave it. Until then, I will toil on this earth as I was meant to. I cannot be upset that there is darkness in a world in which I am meant to be light. Thus, I have a decision to make. I can either despair at its current state or glory in its future one.

My choice, when couched in those terms, is clear: If I live in soot, you can call me Cinderella.

“He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor. For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, and on them he has set the world.” - 1 Samuel 2:8

I don’t know about you, but I serve a magnificent God. He does the implausible. He moves the immotile. He raises the lifeless. To what is futile, he brings purpose. To what is foolish, he brings prudence. To what is failed, he brings prosperity. And everything is in His hands.

I choose hope. That elusive, illustrious, resplendent substance which makes all things possible is my elixir. I drink it in, knowing there is more than enough. I share it because its distribution brings multiplication and its application brings increase. Like love and faith, it is contagious. And it is wholly independent of my circumstance, situation, or success.

Hope has but one requirement for it to function. You must do it with confidence. You must know that things will be better, and they will be good. Whether or not there is evidence, reason, or sense in hoping, you must hope. The more impossible your situation, the more incredible your testimony. No one wants to live through trying times. No one wants to be healed from cancer after years of treatment. No one wants to find a godly husband after enduring abuse. No one wants to finally pay off their house after experiencing debt and scarcity. No one wants to live through the beginning of those stories. People want the end. But everyone wants to hear those stories because they bring hope. Someone has to live through those stories, so others can experience hope. If you are living through trials or hardship, you are living through the beginning of a great testimony.

My ark holds beautiful things. My box holds broken things. I have watched countless times as God has taken something heartbreakingly hideous from my box and transformed it before my eyes into something worthy of my ark.

Testimonies, even those in progress, have power. They are stories without endings. God’s power will be manifested through them in the soon and not yet. Hope tells me that the dissonance in my life will resolve. At some fixed point in the future, each testimony will be as dazzling as all its predecessors. I don’t need to know when that point is, I just need to know it’s out there. Until I reach it, I hope.

Gittel Fruma came to believe in Jesus after growing up as an Orthodox Jew. Gittel lives with her husband and son in Clearwater, Florida. She is currently working on a book about her testimony and recording her first album. You can find her at her website GittelFruma.com or on Facebook at @GittelFrumaMusic.

Gittel Fruma

Gittel Fruma