My grandparents were both Catholics. I was brought to the Catholic church when I was a child. Confession was a difficult time for me, as I always thought I was a good person; I had to rack my brain beforehand trying to figure out what nasty things I had done recently. Despite that, I loved going to church — I loved the stained glass, the pointed steeples, the melodious organ music, and the solemn, sacred atmosphere. So, from a young age, I would tell people I was Catholic. I remember the year of the college entrance exam, some of my great-aunts, who were nuns in underground churches, took my cousin and me to a church dedicated to the Virgin Mary to pray for her help and blessings that we might get into our dream schools. In the end, neither of us got into our first-choice universities. That was the first time I seriously wondered: Is there really a God? If so, why didn't He hear my prayers? Even so, I still attended Mass when I had time. I still felt a sense of comfort every time I passed by a church. I still told people I believed in God. It was with a mix of nervousness and expectation that I came to the United States — a country whose currency says, "In God we trust." I thought I understood the teachings of the Lord, but not quite clearly. Initially, I wanted to find a Catholic church and learn about their worship practices. But God had a better plan. Three weeks after arriving in the U.S., I went to the Blessings Fellowship. On my first visit, I met a brother who shared his testimony and the history of the Catholic Church with me. For the first time, the stories from the Bible came alive for me. They were no longer legends or tales. That was when I began reading the Bible and attending fellowship regularly. The brother also told me there was a hole in everyone's heart. We strive to fill the void with wealth, fame, achievements, and numerous other accomplishments. However, it is useless. Only God can fill the void. Many seekers wrestle with the question of whether God exists, but I already believed in the Trinity. Many struggle with the concept of sin, but I always knew I had both original sin and personal sin. The cross hanging in my house was a constant reminder of Jesus' suffering and resurrection. So my struggle before accepting Christ was whether I was willing to let Jesus be the Lord of my life. I wrestled with that decision for over a month. Finally, I decided to accept Jesus as my savior. Looking back now, I see that the Lord has always been with me. Even when there were storms, they were followed by greater blessings. Starting as an International student, I have now become a faculty member. I believe that God has His vision for me. I hope my life can serve as a testimony to the students I have met.