I was blessed to grow up in a Christian home 😊. We went to church twice every Sunday, prayer meeting Wednesday nights, had prayer circle every morning, and nightly devotions. As such, I never questioned the reality of God. I just didn’t realize I needed to be saved. My salvation story is pretty simple really…

We always had “Sunday afternoon rest time” in our rooms when we were young. I remember just sitting on my bed, looking out the window at the robins going by and thinking about what they talked about in Sunday school that day. I remember realizing for the first time that I was on my way to Hell, but also that the price had already been paid for my sins, and all I had to do was accept it. So I did 😊.

I prayed, thanking Jesus for dying on the cross for me, and asking him to forgive me for my sins (the church I grew up in, although it is supposed to be “non-denominational,” is pretty much Baptist, so the sinner’s prayer is commonly taught). I remember feeling such a sense of relief and excitement, and went upstairs to tell my parents 😊. I have no clue how old I was, or what day I was saved, I’ve asked my parents, but they didn’t keep track of it either.

When I first met Marcus, and everyone in the assembly seemed to have such clear, detailed salvation stories, that used to bother me and make me have doubts! Then one night, Scott McLeod talked about salvation being like an elevator. All you have to do is get in, and trust God to take care of the rest! And that gave me assurance that the details don’t matter to God.

It’s nothing that “I” do, or have done, but has everything to do with what He has done. He paid my dept at Calvary, I know I’m “in the elevator,” and trusting God to take care of the rest 😊.