My Story (the one that really matters)

      I didn’t become a Believer in Jesus Christ until I was 28 years old. (Yeah, I know. I’m old, basically a relic.) I’d heard about Him all my life. I was even told I’d once asked Him to forgive me of my sins so I could go to Heaven when I died, but I have no memory of that time. Even without the memory, I clung to that assurance, more interested in being able to brag that I’d been a Believer since I was four years old than actually knowing that I truly believed Jesus had given His life in exchange for mine, paying the price for my sins so that I didn’t have to, and buying my release from sin’s slavery and Hell’s eternal damnation.

      For years I trusted in the words of those around me, too proud to admit I wasn’t sure. I didn’t have confidence that when I died, I’d go to Heaven. There were times I’d talk to someone about it, but they always told me the same things, (not disparaging them in anyway. They were only doing what they knew to do. It just wasn’t what I needed.) going to the same Bible verses that I’d memorized since I was a kid and telling me the same words I’d heard many times before. I decided I’d heard this so many times, I must truly be a Believer—but I had no peace and lots of fears.

      After more than twenty years of this maddening circle, I decided I was through. I talked with a woman about my struggles. God bless her, she didn’t open her Bible and take me to the same verses I’d spent years looking at. She didn’t insist I pray what’s popularly called the Sinner’s Prayer. (Which is a good thing, because I’d already decided to tell her if she did, I wasn’t going to, because that’s what I’d been doing and there was zero change in my life.) Instead, she encouraged me to figure out what I really believed, not what I’d been taught to say. And so, my journey began.

      I spent the next four months searching the Bible and deciding what I believed was really true. Did I believe Hell was real? Did I even really believe that Jesus was? Things I’d never thought to ask myself, because, hello? I was the daughter of a missionary. Of course I believed all this! But did I really? Was it a belief, or a teaching? I realized there’s a difference. As I began to truly understand all the stuff I’d never gotten before, verses from the Bible began clicking in my brain.

      The first verse that impacted me on my journey was Proverbs 6:2 “Thou art snared with the words of thy mouth, thou art taken with the words of thy mouth.” Lightbulb! That was exactly what was happening to me! I knew the words to say, and I’d always decided my own knowledge was enough. I wrote next to that verse “Self-righteous.” Gulp. There was no way my own righteousness would measure up to the standard: God’s.

      From there, my journey took me to another set of verses. Proverbs 3: 5 and 6 “Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” This was a big one. I have always been self-reliant. I don’t expect anyone to come to my rescue if I’m in trouble, let alone help me out with the everyday stuff. But God was telling me, right there in black and white: “You want to come be with Me in Heaven? You have to let go of yourself and TRUST ME.” The note next to this verse is “Trust.”

      I traveled to James 1: 6-8 after that. “But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive any thing of the Lord. A doubleminded man is unstable in all his ways.” These verses went back to the ones above. I couldn’t very well ask Jesus to forgive me of my sins while I was doubting that He would! That was the definition of double minded. My word with these verses is “Doubt.”

      II Timothy 1:7 was the next stop on my journey. “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” Bottomline: I was afraid of God. I was afraid to trust Him, afraid that if I let go, He’d drop me. I was worried that if I asked Him to be my Saviour, He’d turn His back on me because I simply wasn’t worth His notice. In big bold letters I wrote “Fear.”

      That wasn’t my final destination. Even though I didn’t think God thought much of me, He wasn’t done reaching out to me. He led me to Psalm 118: 17-19, 21, and 23. “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD. The LORD hath chastened me sore: but he hath not given me over unto death. Open to me the gates of righteousness: I will go into them, and I will praise the LORD: … I will praise thee: for thou hast heard me, and art become my salvation…. This is the LORD’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes.” If you’ve been around Christians for any length of time, you’ve probably met the ones that insist the minute you realize you’re a sinner bound for Hell, you pray and ask God to forgive you of your sins and save you. Right then. Even if you have questions. Even if you aren’t sure. Even if you don’t fully understand it. All that matters is you pray.

      Yeah, no thanks. I’d done that. That’s what led me to my years of uncertainty. That’s what led me on this journey to begin with. And that’s why I was freaking out that God was going to kill me before I could wrap my head around my doubts. I was just waiting for the next car I drove past to swerve into my lane and kill me. It was such a relief to read “I shall not die.” God never wanted a rushed prayer. God wanted me to understand His plan. And while I was thinking, “Well, I guess I’m doomed to Hell” He was telling me the words I penned in my Bible next to these verses: “It’s going to be okay.”

      That assurance led me to my final destination. Ecclesiastes 3: 11. “He hath made every thing beautiful in his time.” God never intended for me to rush into anything. My story might be a little different from other Believer’s stories. In fact, some Believers have criticized me for not jumping into a prayer. They insist that I “tempted God” but I couldn’t have heard His word more clearly than if He’d spoken it out loud. “Wait.”

      That’s exactly what I did. I took the time I needed to figure out what I believed. I learned to let go of myself and trust. I vanquished my doubts, banishing my fears in the truth that God does love me. God made me beautiful, but only in His time. And I knew that I truly had believed in Him when I realized I no longer feared the passing cars, because even if one did swerve into my lane and kill me, I’d asked for God’s forgiveness and He’d given it.