People look at my family on social media or when we are out and about or even sitting in the church pew and think we have it all together. I’ve been placed on a pedestal my entire life because of being in ministry. I was born into ministry and I will die in ministry. The result is often a stereotype that my family is perfect, or at least thriving at life.
There is some sort of mystery associated with being a musician, and being married to a debonair Frenchman and raising two daughters who are also artsy adds to the charm. My family and I travel and perform and compose and do everything together and, well, we just aren’t “normal.” Maybe this is why individuals have said things to me like, “I want your life” or even, “I want to be you.”
The reality is our poo stinks like everyone else’s. Not only do we experience trials and sorrows and frustrations, but shortcomings and failures are on daily display at the Fata house. On any given day here, you can find self-focus, pride, anxiety, fear, anger, poor stewardship, or even gluttony—especially if it’s a birthday! My point is that sanctification is in full swing here, and sometimes it is ugly.
My firstborn was baptized yesterday at age seventeen. Liliana claimed Christ at a tender age, but not until recently has she understood the joy and freedom that is truly hers in Him. She was eager to publicly express her faith. I pray hearers were blessed, but perhaps they were also shocked. Liliana has struggled with darkness and fear for many years. No one can fathom the paths we have trod with things that counselors have never even heard of. It has been a lonely and grievous journey at times.
The Lord has been gracious to shine His light of Truth upon Lillie and lead her out of depression and falsehood. She was radiant in those baptismal waters yesterday, and my cheeks were equally wet with tears. This scene was possible through Christ alone. I am beyond grateful for the work He has done in my baby girl. Below is her personal testimony. May it be purposed for His glory now and forever!
Testimony of Liliana Fata
I am blessed to have been born and raised in a Christian home. My parents always made sure to provide a good model of a Christ-led life for my sister and me. At age six, I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior and have since then, because of doubt, prayed the same prayer that He would be Lord of my life hundreds of times more.
As long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with crippling anxiety. Child-like fear grew into legitimate phobias. In eighth grade, I began having panic attacks consistently, and for years they never died down. I was often absent from school, refused to go on stage for performances, and even missed church.
On top of this, in middle school, I began to suffer from joint pain, often at high levels, from my knees to my elbows. This prevented me from doing the things I loved most: I had to sit out on full semesters of dance and stop practicing violin for months at a time.
All this filled me with dread for daily activities and for my future as a whole. I went into a dark place and found joy in nothing, even in the things I had previously enjoyed most. Depression had become a normal part of each day.
Throughout my whole life I have considered myself to be a Christian. However, when my loved ones would ask me when I was planning to be baptized, my response was always that I did not think I was ready. I felt that if I were to be baptized and declare my faith publicly, it would be a lie. I had let myself succumb to so many panic attacks and dark thoughts, and had not sought God in trying times. How could I then truthfully call myself Christian?
For years, I had a misconstrued vision of what life in Christ looks like. I let my perfectionism dictate how I viewed my relationship with Him. I thought, “I’m still dealing with the same sins and struggles. I’ll declare my faith once everything’s been fixed and I’m ‘made new.’” The truth is that He did die so that we could be made new. But we are still going to deal with sin while we are on this earth.
Romans 5:8 says, “But God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Earlier in the same passage, Paul proclaims that “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
I now understand that a life in Christ is built on hope. My salvation is not determined by who I am or what I’ve done, but rather who He is and what He’s done.
I know that my struggles have purpose, and that the only cure for my sin is Him. Through Christ, my anxiety has been at an all-time low. He has even revealed ways to minimize my joint pain. Most importantly, I have been instilled with a new zeal for life and a longing to do His will. My future may feel unsure, but I know that I can rest assured in His plans for me.
As a mother, I rejoice in answered prayer for my daughter’s freedom in Christ. The darkness no longer deceives her. Things weren’t what they seemed; although hope had disappeared, her reality had never changed. Lillie was and is safe in the arms of her heavenly Father. I am thankful to Him for His patient love. He knows what each heart must endure in order to be drawn closer to His Son. As His people, may we run quickly to Him at the onset of every trial. And may we lift up Christ and Christ alone, realizing that all of His people, no matter how they seem, are utterly dependent on Him.
