My grandmother took me to a funeral when I was very young. This was my first introduction to death, and I could not get away from the haunting question in my mind, “Why do we live, only to die?” A depression settled over me that I couldn’t shake.
When I was approximately six years old something happened that changed everything. Our family began going to church and my parents gave their lives to God. I still remember sitting on the arm of a pew the night my parents were baptized in water. I still had questions, but I couldn’t deny the peace that had settled in my heart. Death had lost its sting. I met Jesus and learned of heaven and life everlasting. I am extremely thankful I did not grow up without Jesus, questioning the meaning of life and death.
I was in second grade when it occurred to me I had never made a public profession of my faith, so I went forward during an altar call in children’s church.
When I was in sixth grade, I renewed my commitment to Jesus when I realized my heart had wandered. This prepared me for my teen years, keeping me strong, even when I had to stand alone. His sweet love always kept me wanting Him more than any other thing.
My life hasn’t been perfect; I have been hurt along the way and have made my own share of mistakes. In the midst of it all I have continued to grow, yet still have so much to learn, so much changing to do. One thing for certain, I have never wanted to live without Him.
I do not have a dramatic testimony, but after all these years I can certainly say that God is faithful and his timing is perfect.
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