A Very Personal Testimony (Part One)

If you are a Christian, you have a “Testimony” You may not be a legendary orator, writer, or evangelist but every Christian has a testimony. Generally speaking, each personal testimony is different, but all have one thing in common: we have become “born again.” We are no longer the same person.

The Pastors Daughter

This is my personal testimony: I was saved at the ripe old age of fourteen. Our family had been attending Range Hills Baptist Church for a few weeks every time the doors were open. The Bible stories fascinated me and most times I eagerly waited to learn more although the sermons sometimes made me feel uneasy, even frightened. One day the prettiest girl I had ever seen sat down next to me and said “Hi.” She could have sat down anywhere on the pew but she was scooting almost right up against me as I returned the “Hi.” Other than exchanging awkward glances nothing else was said until we exchanged “Goodbye’s” after the sermon (which I heard none of) that day. The following Sunday when I came into the chapel with my family she was sitting in the same spot. If you’ve been to church then you know everyone sits in the exact same spot every Sunday. I was elated because that rule would force me to sit next to her again. I’m sure she knew this rule too because that Sunday I found out she was the pastor’s daughter and her name was Linda. Unlike the previous Sunday, someone had turned on her voicebox and she couldn’t stop talking. In fact, she talked so much that finally her father stopped preaching and separated us.

Sweaty Hands

On the third Sunday, Linda intercepted and led me to the back of the chapel where we sat, whispered, and held sweaty hands for an hour. As we were leaving Linda invited me to a teen party at church that night and of course, I accepted. That night we danced, ate and drank sodas. We, or rather she talked a lot and above all, we kissed (and we kissed more than once!!)

Her father decided that we could no longer sit alone together in church but Linda could sit beside me with my parents. I was happy with this arrangement because I did like listening to the preacher and was not a big fan of holding sweaty hands for an hour. Just a week or two later is when I felt a strong desire to go forward and be saved. I had been thinking about it for some time and to be honest I was scared to death of going to hell. That Sunday my dad went forward to be saved and I thought “now’s the time!” I distinctly remember, not just walking, but almost floating down that aisle to join both my mom and dad. I don’t remember all that was said, but I remember my mom sobbing and saying “that makes it complete”.

This is part one (part 2 coming next week)

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