PERSONAL TESTIMONY OF SIVASA LAUPATI
Talofa! My name is Sivasa T. Laupati. I was born in raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, the oldest of five brothers. I run my personal ministry, Sivasa Ministries, where I create and sell art. I also compose and write music and share the gospel of Jesus as a speaker. Currently, I am in my final year as a graduate student in Loma Linda University’s School of Religion, studying for a Masters in Chaplaincy. My parents are from American Samoa in the South Pacific, and I am the first generation of our family born on the mainland United States.
I am blessed to come from a family of missionaries. My grandfather was a gifted preacher, music composer, ukulele player, and singer. He was on fire for God. The faith of my grandparents made a big impact on me. In Samoan culture, it is common for grandparents to play a role in raising their grandchildren and I was no exception. Most of what I know about Jesus came from them. My father served as a choir director for his village church for many years, and he continued conducting music when he was converted to the Seventh-day Adventist faith. He and my mother loved the Lord and showed it through music. Their foundation in God helped prepare the building block for what would become my faith journey. Many of the memories I have can be traced back to church. Through the faith of my parents, I learned that there was a God that watched over me. I learned that He loved me so much that He sent His son Jesus to live as an example and die for my sins so that I would be reunited with Him when He returns.
My personal faith journey began with music and art. It was through music and art that I came to understand Jesus in the best way I knew. Art allowed me the chance to take part in God’s creative power and express myself through drawing and painting. Music gave me an avenue of expression that took my life experiences, paired with my faith journey, to share with those who listen. Music was also my escape, and many times I would find myself re-centered in Jesus after I sang or played an instrument.
Hiding in plain sight, but harboring everything I had inside so that no one would bother me.
The most appropriate way to begin my story is, “I was raised in the church.” I inherited the faith of my parents: doing everything in my power, which included expenditure of all my energy to proclaim the gospel. I sang in every singing group; I was an active participant in youth activities and leadership roles. I attended a Seventh-day Adventist academy in California’s Silicon Valley. My mind was set on a timeline of faith, so on the weekend of my high school graduation, I was baptized on our Friday night consecration. It felt like the right thing to do but it did not feel as “good” as I was led to believe it would feel. I did not have that heart connection with Jesus that I longed for.
College was the beginning of my full independence, but it would also be what would begin my desert experience. The loss of my grandfather in 2000 was devastating to me personally and to our whole family. I was close with him and this took a toll on my mental health. I did not mourn or grieve correctly, and I sunk into depression. I tried to bury myself in church responsibilities and helping others in their troubles, while trying to juggle the failure of school. After having to leave my first college, I found myself working full-time at a hospital doing office work and barely passing general education classes at a local community college.
My friendships were almost non-existent, save a few very tight connections, and I struggled with romantic relationships for fear of the things that might happen in the future.
I enrolled at another private university where I didn’t know anyone else. I felt disconnected. Alone in a new school, I found myself in the same situation that I faced more than 10 years before when my grandfather passed, and I would not seek help or admit that I needed help with my depression.
In 2009, my friend Jacqueline Jewel took me to a Christian seminar about music. I was so compelled by the words of that seminar that I gave God an ultimatum: “If You want me to do Your music, You have to make the way. If not, I will continue to do my music because I see results.” At this time, I was playing and performing at secular venues.
Only a few days after that prayer, I had lunch with a young couple at their home in the Central Valley. Taj Pacleb and his wife Wati extended the invitation to join their team on a mission trip as part of a praise team. From that moment, a subgroup of Taj’s ministry was formed called the Revelation of Hope Singers. I would not simply be part of a praise team, we would also interact with attendants and visitors, as well as take part in activities to help the ministry.
My duty was to sing, and I did not feel the need to hear the messages I had heard all my life. I did not know what God was about to do. The Holy Spirit drew me to the front of the church one evening as Taj was preaching on the topic of God and suffering. He addressed the question, “If God is such a loving God, why does He allow evil to happen in the world?” I had my own thoughts, but I wanted to hear this presentation. The Holy Spirit, through Taj, lead me through the Bible in a way I had never experienced before. His presentation of the gospel message was methodical, and he really allowed for the Bible to speak for itself. In the span of almost two hours of study, I wept. The truth was so evident, the Scripture was so clear, and the passion with which he spoke was undeniable. That night, after we sang the appeal song, I knelt at my chair and recommitted myself to Jesus.
From 2009–2015, I served alongside my ministry family as a full-time “musicianary.” When I was not with the team on missions, I served as a teacher’s aide and assistant coach to an Adventist elementary school in the Silicon Valley. Through those avenues of ministry, I was able to share the gospel of Jesus with the young people I was teaching and coaching. Despite all of this, I still did not have a relationship with Jesus. I knew a great deal about my Savior, but I did not know Him the way that I wanted to know Him. There was a plethora of head knowledge but no real heart connection, and I was still struggling with depression.
After the release of my second solo music album in 2015, I found myself in a rather deep pit of despair. I felt alone, abandoned, and unseen by God. I measured my relationship with God by the things that I did for Him, and I grew frustrated with Him and how He was not answering my prayers. Somewhere along the way of this faith journey, I subscribed to the misconception that God owed me something for everything I’ve done for Him. To add to that blindness, I was fed up with church organization, specifically church people. I could not stand hearing the gossip and negativity that was heavily prevalent during that time in my life. With all of that, and a broken heart, I walked away from Jesus. I walked away from church. I wanted nothing to do with anything that had to do with church. This mindset hindered me from prayer, Bible study, or any kind of worship.
I fell deeper into depression and drowned myself in work to block out any feelings that would cause me to go back to God.
I did not want to go back to God a failure after I left Him as a failure. That time, separated from God, led me into exhaustion, further depression, and total detachment from the world.
My job required me to travel and in October of 2015, it took me to Oregon. I stayed with a family to save money, and they allowed me to stay in their log cabin in the backyard. That night, I struggled to sleep being kept up by doubts, fears, and a voice that spoke clearly to me saying, “No one would notice if you were gone. You’re nothing.” I cried, trying to find solace in God’s Word only to fall asleep in my tears. The next morning, I made the decision that I would take my life and end the failures, the depression, the guilt, and shame of existing. Before leaving, I prayed my last desperate prayer, “God, if you can hear me, save me.” As I made my way out, the family’s little granddaughter handed me a card that she made for me. When I opened the card, it read, “Uncle Vasa, you really made my day.” I hugged her, put the card in my jacket and went on my way to work. The whole ride to work, my face was covered in tears knowing what I was about to do and knowing that God saved me.
When I returned to California, I decided that I needed to submit fully to Jesus and go back to where I belonged. That first Sabbath back to church, I was flooded with memories from my childhood. It was in that moment that everything I learned and experienced through the years was ultimately what saved me and brought me back. It was not the head knowledge of who Jesus was that saved me but the realization that Jesus loved me. Even though I stepped away from God, He continued to pursue me, calling me back but never pushing me. The songs we sang in church that Sabbath had new life. The spoken Word of God, and reading God’s Word had new life and everything made sense.
To maintain this walk, I asked God to show me where to go. Days after that prayer, I was called to an elementary school to teach. Part of my journey to returning to Jesus and surrendering to Him fully was learning how to be a Christian again. If people are looking for a challenge that will shake them back into shape and strengthen their faith, be a teacher. It was through teaching and coaching and connecting with students and the church that a full year, almost to the date of the day I almost took my own life, I recommitted myself to God. I was rebaptized on October 15, 2016, at Shaver Lake in the Central California mountains.
Fully known, in love with my God, imperfect but always open to change.
Taj is one of a few people that I still do ministry with because he allows for a safe space for spiritual growth. I was sermonized by so many people because of what I wore, how I presented my music, or even how I carried myself. Taj and Wati accept me for who I am and encourage me to walk with Jesus. They never sermonized or pushed their way of God on me. They practiced the very gospel messages they preached, and they are a huge reason for making me the person that I am today.
It does not matter how many steps you took to walk away from God. It only takes one step to walk back to Him. This is because He pursues His children each of those steps you walked away so that when you are ready to go back to Him, He is right there. When I pushed my pride to the side, and submitted myself to Him, all I knew was “Welcome home, son.” Jesus is your first and only stop on the road to find rest. The things of the world that promise rest will have you returning every time to find those moments of temporary rest. Only in Jesus will you find peace and true rest. I beg you: come home. Come home to Jesus. Whatever it may have been that caused you to leave in the first place, I promise you, you will not find answers outside of the Lord’s embrace. Come home with your weariness and baggage and drop them at the feet of Jesus and rest in His embrace.