Yesterday was my spiritual birthday. 27 years ago, at the age of 14, I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I grew up attending  two mainline Protestant denominations where the gospel was never preached. I remember as a kid, being very fascinated by spiritual things. My best friend was Catholic and I used to attend Mass with her several times a month. I loved all the liturgy and symbolism associated with the Catholic church. My best friend, Sherlyn, and I used to take turns playing nuns together. I say "take turns" because I had a black robe that I had worn when I dressed up like a pilgrim for Halloween one year. One of us would wear that dress and then put the white apron on our heads and voila! We had a makeshift nun’s habit. Then we would serve Holy communion. I think one of us must of played the priest, or maybe we roped our brothers into that role, that part of my memory is still vague. We used to take white Wonder Bread and press it down with the bottom side of a round, narrow cup that we used sort of like a cookie cutter to make a communion wafer. We then used grape juice or if we didn’t have that, we would use some other dark colored drink for the wine. I remember one time that the only thing we could find was Tab Cola. We would go through the liturgy as best as our juvenile minds could repeat it and then we would be off to play some other type of activity.

Despite the mishandling of the process of communion (We used leavened bread, we didn’t always use the fruit of the vine, & we weren’t believers at the time), this is a special memory for me. Looking back, I can see God’s hand moving on my life, creating a spiritual hunger for Him that would later come to fruition in a personal relationship with Him in my early teens.

As far back as I can remember, I have believed in God. I remember going to church and seeing Jesus in the stained glass windows. He always looked friendly and accepting. I recall hearing the Sunday school stories about Jesus loving the little children and welcoming them to Himself. From the time I was a young child, I have been convicted of sin. My life bears witness to the verse that says the law is written on the hearts of men (Romans 2:15). Unfortunately, the moralistic gospel (do good things and you’ll go to heaven) was the only gospel that really came through to me. I don’t know if it was because of the teachings of my church or those of the various churches that I attended with my friends, but one message came through loud and clear to me: Good girls go to Heaven. Bad girls go to Hell.

I thought I was a good girl . . . at least I hoped I was. I attended church, played "nuns" with my friend, wanted to be a nun (until, that is, that I found out nuns couldn’t get married. I eventually abandoned that idea), was nice to others, etc. In the back of my mind, however was this nagging doubt: What if I’m not good enough? After all, I was mean to my brother, disrespectful to my parents, sometimes lied, sometimes cussed, thought mean thoughts about people, stole a packet of gum one time, etc.

One time, I was talking with Sherlyn about Heaven and Hell. We were trying to figure out what types of sins would send someone to Hell. "Well, I’m sure if you murder someone you would go to Hell. And stealing. That might put you in Hell, depending on what you stole." We went through the litany of offenses that would surely result in eternal doom. My soul was still not settled though.

About a year later, I had really lost my temper with my brother. I remember feeling so bad and sinful and thinking that I just wanted to be clean. I remember taking a shower and picturing my self in a white robe surrounded with white Easter Lilies. "Now I feel clean" I thought. Of course, I wasn’t and that feeling soon departed as soon as I had another argument with my brother.

I had heard the gospel only once up to this point. I was seven years old and we were church shopping. We happened to be visiting an evangelical church at the time. I remember the Sunday school teacher saying that if you didn’t receive Jesus as your Savior, you would be separated from God forever in Hell. This was not a Hell fire and brimstone lesson. The teacher was loving and compassionate in her presentation. She seemed to have credibility, but this was something I had never heard of before, and so I was confused as to what to believe. On the way home I asked my mom about it. "Oh that’s not true" she said. We never visited that church again. I can’t fault my mom too much. She was not a believer at the time and hadn’t heard the gospel herself (or at least didn’t believe it if she had). Later that year, both she and my dad received Christ as their personal Savior. She didn’t remember the conversation that we had and so didn’t think to make the gospel clear to me. Plus, she was afraid of scaring me into heaven and wasn’t sure how much to share with me of the doctrine of Hell.

After my parents received Christ, we ended up going to a more Biblically grounded mainline Protestant church. The gospel was assumed, but never clearly preached – at least not in the children’s ministry – so I continued under the false belief in a moralistic gospel. When I was 13 years old, I began regularly attending a different church with my friend Marie. There, the gospel was clearly preached. I knew I needed to receive Christ, but I fell into an easy believism – I got my fire insurance and that was it. I was good to go.

While on a camping trip with some friends from Marie’s church, I was confronted by a girl, named Stephanie, with the sinful lifestyle I was living. "You say you’re a Christian, but I don’t see any fruit." She told me. Great! I felt as if I were back trying to be moral in order to please God. However, as she began to explain the Gospel of Grace and surrendering my life to Christ, I finally got it.

In short, I was a sinner (Romans 3:23) and was separated from God. My sins had condemned me and there was nothing I could do to gain God’s favor (Romans 6:23). It was what He had already done for me on the cross that made me right before Him (Romans 5:8 -9, Titus 3:4-7). I needed to put my faith in Him and His work on the cross, however (Ephesians 2:8-9, Romans 6:23). I learned that Jesus took the punishment for my sins upon Himself and when I received by faith this act of God’s grace, He would pardon my sins and in return would give me His righteousness (2 Corinthians 5:21, Romans 4). It was this that justified me (made me righteous) before God and it was because I was given the righteousness of Christ that I would be saved. That day I received Christ as my Savior (Romans 10:9, John 1:12).

This brought me relief beyond words! For the first time I felt as though I had assurance of salvation. I wanted to live my life for God from that point on. Unfortunately in my early years as a believer, I got a little over-zealous and legalistic. I am afraid I may have turned many people off by my zeal. God began working in my life as a teenager, however. Many changes were immediate. Others, especially the more "respectable sins" have taken years for God to reveal to me and in some circumstances, even more years for me to respond to His conviction in obedience. I am still very much in the process of sanctification, which makes me even more grateful for the Cross of Christ.

Thank You, Lord, for sending Your Son and thank You, Lord for the different circumstances and people You placed in my life to call me to Yourself.

For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.  Ephesians 2:8-9