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I grew up in a Baptist home and attended the same Baptist church from infancy. I was surrounded by God’s blessings, learned all the Bible stories, and acted like a good kid for the most part. Behind the scenes, I was a really good liar, stole small items from the school’s art closet, and was verbally unkind to my siblings. But at church, I put on my good manners, and I thought that nobody could tell that I was a sinner.
As I think back to September 8, 2004, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for what happened to me on that day. It was the day that the God of heaven forgave me of my sin, and changed my life. Though some people who knew me may have considered me to be a good person, I knew in my heart that I was a sinner, and an enemy of God.
All my life, I was brought up in church. I heard preaching from God’s Word every Sunday and Wednesday. My parents loved me very much, and faithfully taught me from the Bible. I learned that Salvation means to turn my back on sin and trust completely in Jesus Christ. I learned that Hell would be my eternal destiny if I did not choose to give my life to God. All these things and more were taught to me, and I soaked it all in during my growing-up years.