I was a man filled with sin until I invited the Lord Jesus Christ into my heart when I was 72 years old, and my life was changed forever. I was saved by his precious blood, and I know I have been forgiven of my sins and, by his grace, I will spend eternity with him.
My name is Michael Brooks, and this is my story. I was baptized as an infant in the Episcopal Church. My mother and my aunt served on the Altar Guild. They were both key in the coffee hour following services each Sunday. My uncle Roy sang in the choir and was the church sextant. So, as a boy, I thought I was well connected, and due to my family’s contributions to the church, we were good people, and of course, heaven-bound due to our good works.
My name is Annette Yechout, and this is my story. I was in spiritual darkness for almost all of my life. I not only had on blinders, but I also shut my eyes and plugged my ears to anything which would conflict with my religion. You see, I had been married for 40 plus years and raised eleven children in the catholic religion. We went to church every Sunday, we celebrated the sacraments, and we supported our church and school. I thought there was no religion better than this. Little did I know just how blind I was to God’s truth.
The fall of 1999, I was driving back home after dropping my youngest son off at college. My wife was trying to find something good on the radio to listen to for the ride home. She was changing stations and came to a Christian radio station where a man was preaching about Jesus and the crucifixion. We were pretty bored as it was a dreary Sunday afternoon, so we listened to him as he spoke. As we listened, we begin to hear the gospel preached like we had never heard it before.
My name is Jackie Wolf, and this is my story. I was raised in the Zion Lutheran Church in Sunbury, PA. My dad worked most Sundays, but it was a ritual for my mom and me to attend every week. I wasn’t too excited about church because I had no friends there. There was no fellowshipping, the singing was morbid, we never took our Bibles, and the sermons were just reading and repeating after the pastor from a Lutheran book.
Growing up in the mid-western state of Iowa, I had all a boy could want – a solid home life with parents who loved me; a 120-acre farm on which to hunt, fish, hike, and ride my motorcycle; a small school where four major sports were offered; multiple job opportunities; wholesome friends; and, eventually, a car I could call my own – a blue Volkswagen Bug.
When I was young, neither of my parents belonged to or visited any church. In the area where I lived there was not much for children to do on the weekends. My neighborhood friends used to go to Catechism on Saturday afternoons, so I decided to join them. I completed the studies necessary for my confession and confirmation. Later, I attended church some, but going to church was more of a routine than anything else.