Church Home

My long journey in a life of darkness was coming to a close that morning as I sat in this unfamiliar building. I didn’t even know I was in darkness, or that there was even an alternative. I had lived life in that place for so long I didn’t know anything else existed. Yet here I was on the door step to my salvation.

A church. An actual, real life church. I never thought in a million years I would ever be dragged into one of those places. But there I was. And it was ok. Good even.  So odd for me! I was so against anything Christian. Jesus was a swear word for me! Yet here I was sitting in the pew and listening to the pastor preach about God. And it felt like home. church

That day I took one of the pamphlets that was tucked neatly into the book rack on the seat in front of me and read it while at home. I was intrigued.  For the first time I ever I wanted to know more about this God and Jesus stuff. I was skeptical, but interested. So unlike me.

We went back the next Sunday. The pastor brought up a younger guy who gave his testimony and told of his past drug habit. I was blown away. I had no idea you could have done drugs and be a Christian. I wanted to know more. We went back again the next Sunday. And the next. The pastor asked us all to bend down in our pews and repent of our sins and ask for forgiveness. By the end of the service I was weeping after confessing all my sins. Sins?? What was going on with me? But somehow I liked it.

We continued to go to church every week. In the meantime I picked up a Bible a neighbor had given me years ago. I think I had tried to read it once or twice before. But when I got to the part where it said God created the world in seven days, I put it back down. I knew there was no way that could be true. My husband and I read it together and we started at the beginning – literally. The beginning of all creation. The version we had been the King James and it was painful for us to read. We barely understood what it said, but we were thirsty for more.

A new friend I met at church asked me after about a month if I had prayed and asked Jesus into my heart. I hadn’t. I still wasn’t too sure who that guy was. I stood in the parking lot with her as she led me through a prayer to ask Jesus into my heart. It was so surreal for me at the time. I wasn’t even sure what it meant or if it even worked, because I didn’t feel anything special happen.

This was just the beginning though. God was speaking to me, and to my husband, and even to my 12-year-old son. He was already answering prayers and showing us His presence. It was exciting and scary all at the same time. God made us a home there at that Presbyterian church, and I am so thankful for it.