My Guilty Plea

I clearly remember when the church put together a cardboard testimony service in which I participated in.

When first finding out about the event, I spent some time looking up all the particulars, as I had no idea what all would be involved.



Cardboard testimonies and confessions demonstrate the power of words and faith. It can reveal deeply personal details as participants write brief passages on both sides of a piece of cardboard.

The first side may mention a personal struggle such as illness, substance abuse or unemployment.

The second side describes that person’s deliverance from that affliction.

The individuals take turns stepping up to the altar to lift their cardboard posters without speaking.

Their testimonies inspire audience members, but the words written represent real-life sufferings and hardships they have lived.


I pulled up You Tube and watched countless videos. I became completely absorbed and realized quickly just how powerful these statements were.

I watched as individuals came forward to expose many diverse battles they had faced, but were then delivered from. I felt taken back and was very hesitant of what I knew God wanted me to reveal.

I had been bound up for numerous years in a tiring cycle of being concerned of what others thought of me. I spent time and money trying to fill a void in my life that simply stated, I would never be able to fill.

I would sometimes go from people pleasing measures to only being concerned with me, myself and I.

Yet, in all reality, it was in fact me and what I was harboring, that was the true deep seeded issue.

It felt better to point blame on everyone else around for my own misery that I was living.


I was my own worst enemy.


I let a few days pass before settling on my guilty plea. I knew what needed to be revealed. God had delivered me from it and I needed to justly testify to it.


I intended to embrace this first testimony experience proudly and confess of what I had been freed from.

Accepting God’s free gift of salvation empowered me so that I could now stand proudly for what I knew I believed in.

All those years of feeling empty as if something were missing, because it was, could now be symbolized on a piece of cardboard.

The transforming power of God replaced the hate that I had down in my heart and filled it with love, something that had been missing all along.

When it was my turn to step up that night, I lifted my cardboard and I lifted it high with honor and with dignity for my God. No words were to be spoken, but none were even needed.






First side – struggle
Second side – deliverance




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