I have decided to write out my testimony of what God has done in my life. The long version. I will break it down into different seasons so there will be five parts when it is complete to date. I will publish one section for the next several Thursdays until they are finished.
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I grew up in a Christian home. I can't remember not going to Sunday school and church, reading Bible stories before bed, dropping a nickel into the offering plate as I learned to tithe on my little allowance, or praying before meals.
I don't remember the first time I heard the Gospel, but I do remember the first time I understood it. I didn't want it. I was six years old, and my family was living in Georgia. I'm guessing it was near Easter, and Mommy was reading the Easter story. We've all messed up and deserve hell. Jesus died on a cross for our sins. He rose again from the dead so we can live with Him forever. If you'll confess Jesus as Lord and Dictator of your life, and believe it in your heart, you will be rescued from death. I remember understanding the Gospel, and understanding that I was headed to hell; it made me uncomfortable. I rushed to go to bed. I wanted to avoid the decision.
It wasn't long after, my family drove to Maryland from Georgia to visit family for Easter. It's a long drive, especially when you're six. The car was hot. I was sure that this trip would never end and that the car would blow up. I knew that if it did, and I died in the process, that I would go to hell. That scared me. In the back seat of the car, by myself, I prayed and asked Jesus to forgive me and come into my life; I told Him I wanted to live for Him now.
I told Grandmom the next morning. She told me I was a part of the family of God. I don't remember telling anyone else, but I must have eventually. I was baptized years later.
Rescued from death.
-To Be Continued-
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