I Am a Blood-Bought, Spirit-Filled Child of God

Believer Story


My faith journey began at 5 years old when I attended a small country church with my paternal grandparents. I recall climbing the steps to the second-floor classroom as the morning sunshine streamed through the stained glass windows. As I sat on the floor and listened to a flannel board story about Jesus, I simply believed. 

Life happened. My mother left my father with three little children. My dad remarried and blended two families into one family. God never left me, but the noise of life dulled my senses to all things spiritual. 

As a teenager, I attended a Southern Gospel concert at my maternal grandparents' church. The hand-clapping and foot-tapping songs about Jesus and His love flowed around me and filled all the broken places in my heart. When one of the quartet walked down the aisle and invited me to the altar, I ran to the altar and surrendered my heart to Jesus. The next day, I stepped into the river and was baptized. 

I stumble. I fall. I get back up. I put my trust in Him. 






Comments

  1. May God bless you on this trip. I thank him for bringing you into my life.

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