For over 30 years, I fooled myself into believing I was a Christian. But I was really lost. My name is Beverly Hammett, and this is my story.
My name is Jim Hall, and this is my story. I was never encouraged to read the Bible when I was growing up. My mother was very faithful in attending the Roman Catholic church. I attended the services with her until I began high school. Then I was allowed to choose for myself, whether I went to church or not. Since I saw no purpose for attending, I stopped going.
My name is Robin Follett, and this is my story. I thought I knew Christ as my Savior when I was nine years old. I went forward during an invitation at my church, and someone explained to me what Christ did for me on the cross. I don’t remember praying or anything after that (which troubled me later in my life), but I hung on to that “experience” for 23 years.
My name is Becky Fetterman, and this is the story of how God drew me and saved my soul. I was born into a Catholic family in Omaha, Nebraska. We always went to church. When I was quite young, I remember one service in particular when I felt “holy.” I thought it was a good feeling to have and that somehow by this feeling that I had felt God’s presence.
I grew up in Allentown, PA, the oldest of five children. When I was young, my parents did not attend church. I did attend Vacation Bible School a few different summers. I also went to a program called Pioneer Girls at one church. One lady there gave me a Bible with the verse John 3:16 penned in the front of it. I sort of memorized that verse, but really didn’t understand what it meant until recently. I never really read that Bible, but for some reason I have kept it all these years. I am grateful to that lady for trying to introduce me to the Bible at such a young age.