Second chances

My goodness...it has been a WEEK! The Lord has blessed with the opportunity to write several stories this week and for that, I am thankful. But I have to tell you that this is my FAVORITE story of all that I wrote over the past five days because it means so much to me. I hope you take the time to read it and that it ministers to your heart.

Original publication date: Friday, June 12, 2015
Random Writer
Second chances


There I was, standing there, knowing I needed to do something about this tugging at my heart. It was a now or never moment, and I finally took that first step.

What led me here? Let me share this tale of mine...

My earliest memories of being in church are in the toddler classroom, which is still located where it was all those years ago. I remember when I promoted up to the beginner department (which is now the young adults’ Sunday School classroom) and my time in the primary department (which is now the Sunday School class for the middle-aged adults). During my time in the latter department, I can recall someone in our second grade girls class asking what it took to get to heaven. The teacher told us she would come by during the second hour service to talk to all of us, and she kept that promise. She spoke on salvation and how we needed to pray a particular prayer and mean it with all of our heart in order to be saved from spiritual separation from God.

I did that, along with all the other girls in my Sunday school class. Later we would be presented before the congregation to let them know about our decision, and some time after that, we were baptized. And that was that.

But was it? Not for me.

Fast-forward almost seven years later, when I was about to start high school. And in between all of those years, I was faithful in church. At that young of an age, I was singing solos in front of the entire congregation. I was involved in children’s choir. I helped my mom when she taught children’s church or worked in the nursery. I sang in the music competition, prepared speeches for the object lesson competition, and learned a lot of Scripture as part of the Bible quiz team, all of which took place during church camp every summer. And that summer before starting high school, I was going to do all of that.

But also in the midst of those seven years, especially the latter part of that, something within me felt off, like I was lacking something. There was a need for something, and at times I admitted what I needed. Sometimes I would push it off, sometimes I would just think about it and consider fixing the problem, and other times I would think that there was no problem at all. I was just being silly.

Yet growing up in church, we’d always been taught that faith without works is dead. We don’t need works for our salvation, but the things we do and say are proof of that life-change. And admittedly, the way I acted and what I said weren’t proof of that, even in contrast of all the things I did in church.

Then sometimes, a speaker would say that the only way you knew you were “truly saved” was if you remembered when and where that prayer you prayed took place. Prayed a prayer? Check. Remember where it took place? I could take you to that room. When it took place? I couldn’t point it out on a calendar, but according to the next speaker that showed up, that one didn’t really matter after all.

So as an incoming high school freshman, I wrestled with eternal security. I remember thinking to myself that at camp that year, I would actually do something about it. Maybe I’d pray a prayer again, or talk to a leader, or just tell Satan that I’d about had it with his nonsense. But it wasn’t nonsense when I would lay in bed and hope that I wouldn’t drift off into eternity in my sleep, because if I did, there’s a chance I wouldn’t have seen Jesus when I woke up.

I can recollect how excited but extremely nervous I was for camp that year...until sickness made its way into the picture. I had some kind of allergic reaction that led me to break out in this crazy rash. To this day, I still have no clue what it was (in retrospect, it was Satan at work trying to hinder things), mainly because when the doctor’s appointment was made, it was scheduled for that Thursday when camp was taking place. My mom let me decide if I wanted to stay and go to the doctor or go to camp and hope that I wasn’t infectious. There was no way I was going to miss camp, and by that time, salvation wasn’t even part of that reason. I’d just never missed camp before, and this rash wasn’t going to stop me.

I remember being in excruciating heat that week, because I wore jeans to cover up that ugly rash on my leg. I have pictures to prove it, me in my long overalls as we took that one picture by the lake. We had a great group that went that year too--most of us were already really close and we got to know the newcomers really well.

But with church camp, the main thing of the week is the evening service, and we had a great speaker in Kent York. He was funny and he mispronounced “Skechers” (he called them “skee-chers”), but he spoke truth. And each night during the invitation, I remember standing there in front of my pew and wondering if I needed to go and talk to the youth pastor’s wife. I passed on that chance on the first night, the second night, and the third night. But that fourth night, I couldn’t do that.

Kent York gave a message that literally scared me. I don’t think that was his point, but frankly, it did. As a note taker in my younger days (which I still have these notes), his message was titled “Who cares if you get saved?” He talked about its importance to friends and family and the church, but his last point was simple: all the people in Hell care. Those people who went through life and never made it a point to really consider their spiritual destination after death. Or maybe they did consider it, but it wasn’t a big deal and they could push it off until later, or in their minds Hell was going to be a big party that they would enjoy...but that’s not what the Bible says. It calls Hell a place of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. It’s a place where eternal separation from God would take place, and I...I didn’t want that.

So in that moment, I took that step. All the pride I’d carried before--about doing all the right things for Jesus that hindered me from making a decision, which would basically tell the congregation at church that I’d never been saved to begin with--faded away. I approached my youth pastor’s wife, April Miller, and I plainly told her, “I don’t think that I’m saved and I want to make sure of it.” We kneeled on the concrete floor of that open-air tabernacle and she opened her Bible and showed me the verses that I’d known so long, but never really believed. I prayed another prayer, but this time, it was real. It was genuine. It was Romans 10:9-10 manifesting itself, that if we confess with our mouths AND believe in our hearts that Jesus was raised from the dead by God, then salvation would take place.

That took place on Thursday, June 6, 2001. This past Sunday marked 14 years of being redeemed by Jesus. It has certainly been a crazy and bumpy ride. Looking back on my four years of high school, I wasted that time in a spiritual sense. My four years in Bible college made a dramatic impact on my spiritual life, and the year after that was one that I’ll never forget. And in these past five years, God has continued to work in my life in the strongest way yet, in ways that I can adapt to and other ways that I really don’t like, but He does it for His glory. So that I can be molded into the child He wants me to be. There have been a lot of ups and a lot of downs, but I can say for certain that the Lord has been with me every step of the way. Not just a recognition and awareness of Him in my life, but truly calling on Him to be the Savior of my life.

Some people don’t get second chances like I do. Or some people get chance after chance to confirm their spiritual destination because God bestows to them grace upon grace upon grace. But we’ll never know if that next chance is our last chance until it truly is. My hope is that you, dear reader, will truly make sure that Jesus really is the Lord and Savior of your life.