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"So, did you wear clothes over there?" "Do you speak English?"

I'd only been back in America a short time when I got bombarded with those kinds of questions. My parents were missionaries to the Philippines and they'd decided to move us back to the States before I started my freshman year in high school. I hated leaving my friends and my old home. Now I had to put up with those stupid questions from the other kids I met.

I was lonely … and angry. And when I started practicing with the football team that summer, I took out my anger on the guys on my football team. While on the field, I'd find myself smashing full-force into my teammates and yanking them to the ground. Practice was one place I could take out my anger on people without getting in trouble.

I had no real friends in America. It wasn't really like I'd tried to make any, though. I acted really distant whenever someone approached me. American kids just seemed so shallow, and it seemed like nobody understood how I felt.

Then one day in August, the phone rang. It was the music minister from church. He wanted to know if I'd join the youth drama and music team. I honestly don't know why, but I said yes. Maybe down deep inside I hadn't totally given up on friendship with American kids.

I soon discovered that the kids on the drama and music team were different. They didn't ask me a lot of weird questions about my life in the Philippines. They also had a lot of fun and took their faith seriously—and at the time, neither of those things was true about me.

Technically, I'd been a Christian since I was 6. But my life didn't change a whole lot. It's not that I turned into a bad kid. I just didn't care much about spending time with God. I didn't like church and I didn't pray unless I really needed something. God just felt real far away.

Then when I met those students from the music and drama team, I started to rethink how I felt about the Christian faith. But that was only the beginning. During the winter of my sophomore year, I had an experience that helped me realize my heart was changing for the better. I was at a church retreat and got into a long discussion with one of the girls I knew. After we talked awhile, she said, "I've been thinking about suicide a lot."

I remained quiet as she poured out her heart and her pain.

She told me about her anger, hurt and bitterness. Everything she said to me sounded a lot like what I had felt the year before. We talked for hours. I tried to comfort her with encouraging words. I even found myself mentioning God's love—something I wouldn't have done in the past. Mostly I listened, though. I think that's what she needed.

After the retreat, other people started coming to me to talk about their problems, too. I often found myself sharing bits and pieces of my own struggles with them. I'd never opened up like this before, and it felt good. It also felt great to be needed.

As I started opening up to others, I found myself opening up more to God, too. I realized I did need him, after all.

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