Thirty-five years ago yesterday, I made the most important decision of my life: I chose to trust Jesus as my Savior.
For some reason, I had chosen to skip children’s church that day and instead sit in “big church” with my parents. I don’t remember the pastor’s exact words during most of the sermon, but I remember that my eight-year-old heart stirred when he said we could live with Jesus forever. He gave an “altar call” and asked those who wanted to make that decision to come down to the front of the church.
I knew I wanted to go forward. I also knew this was a big decision, and I was scared to death to go by myself. My stomach was a bundle of nerves. I asked my mom to go with me. We were met at the front by a deacon, who greeted me warmly and invited us to kneel with him. He offered to pray and I could repeat the words after him. Again, I don’t remember the exact words, but I do know that on that Palm Sunday, I asked Jesus to be my Savior.
The journey since then has certainly not always been smooth. It was easy to ask Christ to be my Savior; it has been more challenging to let him be the Lord of every area of my life. I am still a work in progress. My life is a testament to God’s unconditional love and unfailing grace. I’ve made some bad decisions over the years, but I’ve never regretted the one I made 35 years ago.