My Testimony

My name is José Troche. I was born in Bolivia, South America, into a typical, nominal Catholic family. My dad came from a family of six siblings, and my mom came from a family of eight. So, I grew up surrounded by many uncles, aunts, and cousins. We were a big, happy family.

One of my mom's younger brothers came to faith in Jesus in the 70s and began evangelizing the entire family. He would visit our house once a week to read the Gospel of John. At first, we didn't understand a thing, so it seemed boring. Oh, how we dreaded those weekly meetings! However, he didn't give up. After John, we read Acts, and that went better.

Eventually, my sister and I started attending church Sunday meetings. We also had occasional retreats. At one of those retreats, I felt prompted to be baptized, so I did. I was probably 13 or 14 at the time. My dad was baptized the same day. At this point, all the members of my immediate family professed to be Christians.

I may have had genuine faith in God, but it was rather weak. My knowledge of the Bible was minimal, and I probably couldn't have articulated the Gospel clearly. So, when the doubts and confusion of the late teenage years emerged, my beliefs began to crumble. I started skipping Sunday meetings, using my busy school schedule as an excuse. Eventually, I stopped attending church altogether.

I also became emotionally and sexually entangled in an unhealthy romantic relationship. There was a lot of drama in the mix. When the relationship eventually ended, I was deeply disappointed, in fact, devastated. It took me several years to recover.

College, with its secular environment, further hardened my heart toward God. I graduated with honors and quickly landed good-paying jobs. It seemed like the beginning of a great life. I felt smart, special, and successful. I certainly didn't feel the need for God, and I thought religion was for weak minds that longed for something to believe in.

My parents tried to pull me back to church, but after many years of my stubborn rejection, they stopped trying. But they never stopped praying for me.

Now, from my perspective, they were religious hypocrites, unable to change and fix themselves. I, on the other hand, was self-sufficient, composed, and proud. At my lowest point, I not only despised Christians but also vigorously questioned the very existence of God. I thought He was just a product of the imagination of fragile, naive people.

Even though I had obtained many of the things the world seeks, something felt off. I was missing something. I had a good job, a good reputation, and a good salary, but I felt lonely and empty. The obvious thing I thought I was missing was a woman to share all this with — someone who would love me, respect me, and value me. I tried so many times to find the one, but somehow, the relationships always ended, leaving me lonely, empty, and disappointed over and over again.

It took over a decade and some significant "ninja moves" to get me back to a Sunday service. When I finally attended one, I felt very uncomfortable and self-conscious when people greeted me as if I were the prodigal son. I wasn't. There was no way I was coming back to church. I was just there to support some new friends. Somehow, I attended the next Sunday, and then the next one. During one of those services, the piercing, unstoppable, dazzling light of God illuminated my darkness and triumphed over my stubborn, obstinate heart. I didn't want God, but He wanted me. I couldn't resist His magnetic grace any longer. How could I? He is omnipotent! So I surrendered.

For some time, I wrestled with questions about when exactly I was saved. Was it in those early years of my childhood? Or around the time I was baptized? Perhaps when I returned to church? I no longer wrestle with those questions because I am certain that God chose me in Christ before I was even born. And I also rejoice knowing that He will keep me until the day He returns to take me home. Alleluia!

"But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8)