Every story that involves God is a story worth telling. For a while I told myself that my salvation story was too mundane to share. Then I shifted to the excuse that my salvation story was too personal to share. The thing is, though, it’s not just my story. I wasn’t the only one there at that moment or any of the moments before or after. God is, was, and will always be there. My story starts in church. God was always a presence in my life and I saw people around me, my parents included, who had faith in God. From a young age, I could recite scripture, Bible stories, and other church-like activities. I was in church every Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night, but there came a point when I realized that was not enough. It was during revival my seventh grade year that I realized that I needed to make a decision about God for myself. It was invite a friend night to church, and, like a good church girl, I had brought my friend. I knew enough about church and God to know that people had to make a decision to accept Christ. I had actually gone through the motions by going up front and talking to the preacher when I was in third grade, but the difference between what was going to happen that night and what I had done in third grade was my heart. In third grade, I simply went forward, listened to the preacher say a prayer and went through the baptismal pool. I did not make any decision in my heart, because at that age, I didn’t understand what that commitment meant.
On the way to church that night, I was excited because I thought maybe my friend would “get saved” that night, even though I did not fully understand what that commitment meant at that point. I thought it meant that you walked forward and told the preacher it was time. Now I realize it didn’t really matter if I went forward and talked to the preacher or not; what mattered was my conversation with God and my heart. I don’t remember what the preacher talked about that night nor do I even remember who was preaching that night. When it came close to the time for the invitation, I felt really sick because I knew that I never had made a commitment to Christ. I knew the stories and what Christ had done but I had never made the commitment to trust him with my life. That night I chose to go to the altar and make that commitment by praying to God, but it wasn’t a decision that required an altar. I could probably even say that decision was made when I stepped out of the pew. When I stood up from the altar though, I felt relieved because I knew that my life was in the hands of someone bigger. I knew it was a good decision, even if it took a while for me to realize I had to make it myself.
Everyday I learn new things, so the story I have with Christ is always getting longer. To read more of it click here.