I realized that something was missing in my so-called Christianity…something I was seeing in the lives of others and was longing for.
My life at 24 was work all week, bars and beer on Friday and Saturday, broke on Sunday.
I accepted Christ in an after-school meeting of the ‘Good News Club’ in my hometown.
I felt uneasy and was afraid of dying before I found courage to step out and be counted for Christ.
She often blamed me for their fighting, telling me I was worthless and sometimes even hitting me.
I taught Sunday School and felt I was a Christian because I did teach. Still, there seemed to be something missing from my life.
Although I considered myself a good and caring person, I continued to search for a deeper meaning of my purpose in this life.
I had developed a sense of how short life was, and was afraid of dying.
When I was young my parents didn’t take me to church but I started going with friends when I was in elementary school.
I didn’t know if I could get to heaven, because I knew I had already done some things wrong.