My Conversion

Doug asked me today about how I came to be a Christian.

Here's my story.

I always wished I knew the exact moment when the Lord saved me. Surely there has to be that moment for each believer because we live within time. However, I've never known when that was. What I do know is that currently my hope is the Lord. I have assurance of my salvation. My assurance is based on the Word of truth which God planted in me, used to give me new life, and which I received and submitted myself to (again, at which point in my 21 years, I'm not exactly sure). That same assurance is boosted by the experiences in my life which the scriptures point to as evidence of my salvation and His power in my sanctification (being filled with Spirit, experiencing victory over sin, suffering for His name, having supernatural boldness, knowing deep conviction and true repentance, having an understanding of spiritual things and an un-blinding of my eyes to the gospel of Jesus Christ, a peace that is beyond comprehension, a fear of and deep love for our Lord Jesus Christ, a longing and deep deep desire to know Him more and live my life completely for Him, and a surrender to His will, and so on and so forth). During times of unfruitfulness, backsliding, and disobedience in my life, I lost assurance of that salvation and wondered, "Am I really saved? Have I been deceived? Why do I keep doing all the things I don't want to do?"

I grew up in a home with Christian parents. The Word was read regularly and prayer was a common thing. When I was five years old, I "asked Jesus into my heart". John, my brother, had told me that he did it, so I should too. All I had to do, according to him, was to tell mom or dad and ask them to help me pray and ask Jesus into my heart. So I did. Mom sat by my bed as she was tucking me in one night and she prayed a prayer which I repeated. I remember that she explained to me that I had to ask Jesus to forgive me of my sins which were all the bad things I had ever done. I don't remember much about our little conversation and prayer beyond that. I can't tell you whether or not I understood the gospel at that time. I suppose it's possible that I did. With all the Scripture that we read each morning during "Bible Time" and the conversations my parents had with us kids about God, and the many, many prayers they prayed for us each day (out loud and silently), maybe I did know at that point what I was praying. But I doubt that sometimes.

When I was about 10 years old (or maybe younger), I began to copy the Scriptures out by hand. Dad payed any of his kids who would do this. The going rate was ten cents a verse. Over time, I copied Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers. I copied parts of the Psalms and Proverbs, and some of the smaller New Testament books. When I learned to type on the computer I would type out the Scriptures. Sure, I did it for money, but I know that the Lord used that in my life to teach me to love His Word from a young age. I began to comprehend how vital the Bible was to my life. When I would be away from the Scriptures for extended periods of time, I experienced unrest, sin, conviction, and lack of joy and peace. Soon I began to read the Bible on my own (without pay), but would do it secretly because of some of my older siblings who were in open rebellion against my parents and God at that time. I was hungry for the Word, but I didn't want them to see me reading my Bible and praying. I knew Matthew 6:6, and would often go into my closet (literally) to spend time with Lord.

One time between about the ages of 8 and 12, I remember clearly thinking, "Oh, now I get it! Jesus came to earth and died INSTEAD of me having to die for everything bad that I've done." Yet, still, I can't tell you whether or not that was the moment of my conversion. I don't remember repenting right then and there of my sins. But I do believe that the Lord gave me the gift of faith (whether it was then or earlier I'm not sure) in order to repent. There were many times that I would be so convicted of my sin (and it was usually one particular sin) that I would be so afraid of God's wrath, that I would be in agony in my spirit and cry out to God, "God, please have mercy on me. Please save me! Please don't let me keep doing this. Please don't let me go to hell." Sometimes I would be afraid that maybe God hadn't chosen me and that I would go to hell. The thought frightened me. I know I understood God's sovereignty in some small way because I knew that He had to do something in order for me to be saved. Some small part of me knew I couldn't save myself, yet I would often try and try to do good things without the motivation being a love for and surrender to Christ. I was often very convicted of that. I prayed that God would forgive me and help me to do better next time.

As time went on, I became more bold in our home about my faith. I would talk with my younger sisters about God and would pray with them. I would instruct them about things in the Bible (whether or not I was accurate, I don't remember) often in a very bossy way. Mom says there are times that I would terrorize them with telling them awful things about hell. I don't remember that, but I do remember not wanting anyone to go there. I suppose that was my motivation for telling them those things.

Around the time that I was 13 or 14, I really, really wanted somebody (an older lady particularly) to talk with and pray with me and teach me about the things of God. When I had just turned 15, some new neighbors moved in across the street. The lady asked me to help her with some office stuff. I did and she payed me very well for what I did. She had a ministry called Discernment Ministries. I transposed audio clips of sermons for her and folded, stamped, and sent out newsletters. For a while, I was offended by what I heard and read, but over time I realized that much of what was discussed and the side which Jewel (my neighbor) and those in the ministry took was based on the Word of God (which I was growing to love and depend on). She talked with me about the gospel regularly. She had me over for tea often. She spoke so openly about how she loved Jesus and wanted to live for Him. She explained one day how she had been on her face before the Lord that morning in repentance because she listened to the song "I Surrender All" and she wept over her lack of complete surrender to Him. I saw in her everything I wanted to be. I realized that God had brought her into my life to speak truth to me and give me an example of how to live and behave, how to seek Him, how to humbly love and serve Him. I came to understand that she was an answer to my prayer.

When I was 19, I entered into a relationship with a guy who was much older than me. I was attracted to the idea that he was attracted to me. He said he was a Christian. I believed him and went along with it. I experienced lust for the first time in my life, but shoved aside the Lord's conviction about my sin. The lust lead to sin, and as the Scriptures state, "sin when it is full grown brings forth death." I was absolutely dying inside. My relationship with the Lord was pushed aside and ignored as I pursued trying to please this guy who I wasn't even married to. Although we never "crossed the line" and remained technically abstinent, I crossed every line of holiness in the sight of God. The death I experienced was a period of unfruitfulness for Christ, being miserable in my spirit, and experiencing what it was like to live apart from the Lord. God, by his sovereign grace and mercy, allowed me to still pray, "Lord, I don't want to live like this. Please help me." I would make rules for our physical relationship, hoping to solve the problem and experience peace again. But it didn't work. It was like a roller coaster I thought I would never be able to get off of. One day, I finally realized that I was at a cross road. I could keep living the way I was, marry this guy, and live unhappily ever after. Or I could surrender everything to Him, not knowing what exactly it would cost me (although I knew it could be everything), and live for Him. At least I would be happy and have peace, I thought. So I did it. Through tears and some fear about hurting my boyfriend, exposing myself to everyone who knew I was in a relationship, and surrendering to the power of God to bring me out of my sin and back into a right relationship with Him, I did what I knew I must. I was so, so, so glad that I did, even though the next few weeks were very hard. And the following months carried some moments of sadness. I realized in February 2010 what God had saved me from and I wept. When I realized how much more (than just an unfruitful, unhappy, unsatisfied life on this earth with an unsaved man) that he had saved me from, I wept even more. When I thought of what Christ did on the cross for me, and how deep and grave my sin was, and how I should have payed every last cent with my life for everything I had done, but how I wasn't held accountable for any of it at all, I wept more still. I believe I understood the gospel before then. But on that day, it became more real to me as the Lord showed me a picture of my sin and the cross all in one frame.

So was that the point of my conversion? I don't think so. I think I was saved before that. But when? I don't know. My memory is a human memory. There are things I'm forgetting, and some of the things I recall may be inaccurate. I do know that God in His Sovereignty placed me in my family and gave me the neighbors, the physical appearance, the struggles, the trials, the jobs, the car, and the faith that I have so that His purposes would be fulfilled. I know that He has given me salvation, taken the blinders from my eyes, has given me a love for His Word, a desire to serve Him, a holy and reverent fear of Him, and most of all his Holy Spirit to equip me to walk with Him in obedience. There's still sin in me. And boy, it makes me sad. It makes me sad to think that STILL I displease Him. The One who loved me and gave Himself for me. The almighty, awesome God. I've grieved the Spirit with my disobedience to His commands and still live sometimes as though I'm ruled by the flesh instead of the Spirit. But Christ is growing me and continues to give me mercy, to intercede for me to the Father, and to chasten me. He sharpens my conscience instead of allowing it to get duller like a used knife. He continues to show forth evidence to me of His work in my life and heart. What a gracious and powerful God that I serve.