Salvation

The beginning. Yes my, well all beginnings begin at birth. Your first breath.
But for a child of God, the beginning is the moment you accept Jesus into your heart.
So, here is my story:
At the age of 5 I remember my parents coming home from a revival they had sang at. Someone had stayed at the house to babysit me. I remember asking my Dad what the preacher had preached on and he had said "Hell". No kid wants go to go to hell so I told him I wanted to be saved. I remember praying several times that night, and I thought I got saved, but looking back I believe that was the seed that was planted.
In third grade I remember my teacher Mrs. McCall teaching on the crucifixion and how I felt.
One thing to note, I was raised in a Christian home, went to a Christian school and was raised in an independent Baptist church. If there was one thing I knew it was how to be saved.
That kind of life grows on you. You get used to it. You know how to talk it, walk it and live it. Do all the right things at the right time in front of the right people. You know all the right answers to the questions, heck, you even know the questions. I knew it all. I knew it all so much and so well, I was a walking talking Bible. I was religious.
Did I have my rebellious years, oh yeah. From about age 12 to 15 if it was not supposed to be done or frowned upon, I did it. No, I did not do drugs or alcohol or sleep around but I did not do what was expected of me and house rules.
Looking back, some of the things I did were not so bad, it was just that I did some stuff I shouldn't have done or was told not to do.
Keep in mind, my parents were very strict on me. Our church was very strict. My school was very strict. The fact was, I was doing what I was told not to do.
Looking back its almost comical. I gave my testimony at our baccalaureate ceremony and had even won a couple to Christ, and I wasn't even saved!
After graduating high school, I started attending college (tech school). Here, I got an eye opener. I had no idea girls cussed, drank, smoked and partied like these kids did. I was in shock. No I didn't participate because it scared me to death. But I firmly believe this was God's way of getting me out of a "bubble" I had been in for 13 yrs.
Since I can remember I had sang in a choir. When I was 5 I joined the Sun Beams. A choir for kids. As I got older I could not wait to join the Youth Choir because it was so much more grown up. Then when you turned 13 you got to join the Sounds of Joy. At that point, you thought you had arrived! Those were the most tumultuous years of my life. I would not relive them for anything. I hated it then, and to look back at it now, I hate it now. I stayed in trouble. Always testing my bounds.
At 16 you got to join the Dedications. This choir traveled all over the southeast singing wherever our pastor preached. Again, I was walking the walk and talking the talk. Whenever he got up to preach he would brag on us how we all lived a certain way and did things a certain way, while we all smiled and sang our songs. Knowing all too well that at the last practice so and so had come in on a buzz or so and so had alcohol in the car or so and so was sleeping with their boyfriend/girlfriend. And that's just a few of the "rules" that were being broken.
So, basically, I was being taught how to live a lie. Don't get me wrong, my parents were at home what they said they were at church.  But at church and school, being a "Christian" kid meant very little.
There are a few incidents I can point at where I know God was dealing with me.
One night we had a particularly moving service at church. Everyone was kneeling at the seats or in the alter, and I remember our Pastor turning around and saying, "Someone in the choir needs to get saved and someone needs to announce their call to preach.". Of course as religious as I was, I pushed it off on someone else. The tug was there. I had felt it and brushed it off.
Another instance was one Sunday morning we had a visiting preacher, and again, a very moving service. Almost everyone had gone down the aisle. I was kneeling and the preacher was standing on the stage in front of the aisle where I was kneeling and said "Pray for them, they need to get saved.". Yet again, I pushed it off on someone behind me.
We were at a church singing, I think it was in North Carolina, and our Pastor had called on one of the young men in the choir to give his testimony, he had just recently gotten saved. I remember thinking about it and my salvation. I then told God, "God if I'm not saved, you're going to have to tell me by someone else mentioning it. Not long after that, another young man in the choir was asked to give his testimony. This is when God told me - it was me, I was not saved. But, I didn't get saved that night.
What I thought was over a years time, after researching it, ended up only being a few months time, from the time our Pastor mentioned that about the choir to the time I actually got saved.
Our church was hosting the Southern Preachers Conference, or something like that. Of course I had to be there every night. On that Wednesday night, Bob Howard was called on to preach. He preached out of John 1, three people in the Church: believers, unbelievers and make believers. When he said the word make believers, I knew he was talking to me. It was as if they were shining a spot light on me. I tried everything to get him off of me, reading the Bible, reading the song book, but nothing helped. He couldn't get to the alter call fast enough.
When it came time for the alter call, I hit the alter. All I could say was "Lord save me". That's all I could get out.
What is so horrible was I let pride get to me and just told the preacher I just needed assurance. I went to him before service was over and told him that I actually had gotten saved. October 11, 1989. I believe I was baptized a week or so later.
Since then I have kind of doubted, but I know, that is when I got saved. If they tore the building down, I could probably take you to the spot and show you where.
Have I always lived it? No, far from it. I'm a work in progress. A day by day, minute by minute. I know how it feels to have God with me, I know how it feels when He's no where to be found.
And that is where it all began.

Book

I've been told on many occasions I should write a book.
I have many stories, anecdotes, praises, heartbreaks and blessings, I really don't know where I would start.
Do I start from my earliest memory or do I start from today and go back?
But I guess that's kind of what a blog is . . . but then again I feel as though a blog is a journal, a diary of sorts.
So where to begin. Hmmmm. Go to the next blog to find out :)