I was brought up in a devout, very strict Christian  home, where the Bible was read aloud twice every day to us children. I was brought up knowing that there was a certain life after death in either of two places….heaven or hell! I also knew that I was a wicked little sinner, because I knew what a scheming, disobedient  and stubborn little rascal I was in my soul. I was eight years old when I was convicted about doing something about my sin.

When I look at my eight year old great-grandchildren, I wonder just how much a small child is capable of understanding such great matters of eternal life and death. I have to remind myself that I was only eight when these things became a great burden to me.

I  knew  that I  had  to confess my sin  if  I wanted to go to  heaven. But  I  had  the greatest  struggle  to  do  this. This conviction  was clear and  plain to me, and I would argue with the voice of God speaking to me mostly after I went to bed. It was a continual battle.

I would hear the voice of God saying “You HAVE to do something about it!”

I would answer, “But I don’t WANT to!”

I might silence the voices for that night, but they would start up again after a few nights. This kept going on for so long, that one night, I gave in and slipped out of bed, and kneeling there I told God that I was sorry for my sin and asked Him to take it away. Oh, the relief !!

I didn’t become a Christian because my parents were….I have known many people who were brought up in equally devout Christian homes, and they have decided against it for themselves, and have never turned to the Lord.

I didn’t become a Christian because of any good things I might have done….I hadn’t lived long enough to do any good deeds with that thought in my mind.

I didn’t even become a Christian because I went to church regularly (which I did).

I became a Christian because I knew deep down that I was a sinner, child that I was, and I knew I had to listen to God for myself, and ask forgiveness for my stubbornness and rebellion against what I knew God wanted me to do.

I knew I was a sinner because I was born that way….I wasn’t a sinner because I had sinned; I sinned because I was a sinner!

I can honestly say I have never had any doubts that my sins are forgiven and that I have my ticket to heaven.

But it has not been a story of happy ever after…..I haven’t always been what I should have been, and then the contact between me and my Lord has been broken. But He has patiently waited for me to turn back to Him, and then has graciously taken me up again.

He will do the same for all those come to Him…there is a verse in the Bible that says….”A broken and a contrite heart, O Lord, You will not despise”.    (Psalm 51:17)