Hello, fellow Deviant!
If you are interested in supporting my artwork, and want to
see more, please visit my secondary art sites! On my Patreon
I post sketches, studies, and my personal game concept art --
stuff you won't find here! And I have a variety of shirts, mugs,
tote bags, and other bric-a-brac available on Society6, the art
for which being found in my gallery. Any purchases, support,
or donations are greatly appreciated!
Thanks for stopping by, and hope you enjoy!
Some Stuff About Meek!
• Christ-follower •
• Aspiring game concept artist •
• Clumsy & awkward •
• Currently a logistics clerk •
• Animal lover •
• Dislikes make-up and girly stuff •
• Casual gamer, Playstation kid •
• Quiet, but friendly •
• Does Taekwondo •
• Coffee drinker •
• Favorite color is cerulean blue •
~ My Testimony ~
As a kid, I learned to hate the idea of god, for the things people did in the name of their religion, and the things people did while hiding behind the idea of forgiveness and grace. I saw god as a crutch and a lie, which people used to make themselves feel better. I had always wanted to be a person of good morals, and felt like there was a reason I was supposed to be alive, but I felt alone as well -- crazy, even -- since I didn't know other kids who really cared about being a goody-two-shoes as much as I apparently did, and none of my friends really understood my deep need for a destiny. Religion was stupid to me. I tried philosophy, but it was too relative. I believed there was a universal truth out there, somewhere, and that everyone had their own guess as to what it was, but no one really knew. I felt like I was waiting for it to find me.
My dad died suddenly when I was 15 because of a household accident. My mom was left to raise me and my younger brother and sister. I felt lost then more than ever. My mom tried to take us to church one day, but my brother and I reacted in anger and hurt; it was the last thing we wanted. Still, in my desperation, I wondered if maybe I was wrong, and there was a god that could help me through a world without my dad. But I remained closed off from the idea because of the fact that if there was a god, he let my father die, and let our family be hurt. My dad had always believed there couldn't be a god if so many bad things were happening in the world.
A year later, I met someone from a different state named Andrew. He didn't make the greatest first impression, teasing me and cheating off my homework, but over the course of us trading work sheets and doodles and mutually-liked anime, we became good friends. Eventually, I learned that he was a devout Christian. I was baffled, since he'd never said anything to condemn me nor my atheist friends, and confusion turned to curiosity. It made sense since he didn't constantly talk dirty or party like the other guys at school, and actually seemed to care about people and animals. One day, he invited me to come to his youth group, just to check it out and get an inside perspective. No one had ever asked me in respect of my views before, so I thought I'd go just for his sake. It was awkward sitting there during worship, but the people there were nice, and I felt like I could relate to the message being spoken that night. Andrew also invited me to come to church for the first time. I didn't have to dress up or anything, since the church was like a friendly little coffeeshop. I was surprised when he sat out of service with me just to share with me what made his faith real to him.
The more I talked to Andrew and went to church, the more I realized that the God he believed in was nothing like the god I'd heard so much about. The God he knew wanted people to love eachother and give generously to one another, to keep sexually pure but also to know that they are human, though able to live in actual righteousness because of the power of Christ. The idea seemed more and more charming, but I was still afraid to put my trust in it. When I told Andrew about it, he wanted to know why. So on Martin Luther King Jr. day, we had our first official hang-out day at the hotel he worked at; we had the computer room, pool, and breakfast room all to ourselves. I remember sitting in the big empty room while he talked to his mom (also his boss at the time), and seeing Haiti on the news. People were worshiping God even though they had just lost so much in the earthquake, thankful for their lives. I remember feeling almost ashamed. While we putzed in the computer room, he showed me a video of the song "No One Else" from the concert/conference he'd been to that winter, which he'd told me was part of what solidified his faith. The words "Now I have a purpose, now I have a destiny" resonated with something in me -- I hadn't told Andrew it was the very thing I was looking for. A lot of coincidential things happened that day -- too coincidential. So I felt I should start our conversation about why I was afraid to believe in God. I told Andrew about what happened to my dad, and about all the bad stuff people did that made me believe that what my dad said about god was true. He reacted not defensively, but almost with awe, because his life sounded a lot like mine. He too was an atheist and lost one of his parents, and was dragged to Minnesota because of legal stuff. He went to youth group just to get away from family drama, and soon he had an experience that let him know that God was there with him in that hard place in his life. After we'd shared stories, he felt that God was telling him to pray for me, and for the first time in my life, I accepted prayer. He prayed that I would seek God, and though I never would have done so before, I was intent on seeking the God that saved my friend and promised me a destiny.
I was not disappointed.
icon by tyronniesaur