My Story - Part 1

When I was growing up we had family devotionals once a week. In my mind, I recall it being on Tuesday nights, but who even knows if that is correct or not. Nevertheless, family devotionals.

There is a specific evening that I remember to this day. I can't tell you what the study was about, but I do remember standing up when we were closing and asking my parents about Jesus.

The question was something to the effect of - how to know Him and what that really meant.

I remember talking to my pastor on the phone and answering all the typical questions that you ask a person when they are wishing to accept Christ.

And I remember following that up by walking the aisle, and then baptism, at church.

I was around 7 years old.

We had the typical revivals and invitations where the pastor would ask you to raise your hand if you knew you would go to Heaven if you died tonight. Oh, how I raised my hand high after that night.

I can still see myself, sitting on the floor against the old wood paneling in the tiny side room off of the fellowship hall, as a leader asked us the same question. Our eyes were closed, but my hand was high.

And yet another evening.... We were leaving the church one night and my family was having a conversation about people actually not believing in Jesus.

"How completely absurd!!!" Thought my young, innocent, child-like-faith mind.

It seemed to me that it would be to your benefit to simply believe in Jesus. If perhaps it's not a lie and this Savior is indeed real, atleast you are safe...