Nothing But the Blood

A Testimony

Growing up, I was the oldest child in a large family. We were raised in a conservative, but isolated Christian home. My father was a retired Southern Baptist pastor, with a strong tendency towards Calvinism and a works-based faith. As a young child, I was aware of the fact that I was not good enough to make it to Heaven on my own, but did not know how to be saved. At times I would be really worried what might happen to me if I died without being saved.

During one of these periods, when I was 7 or 8 years old, I was especially worried, and determined in my heart to be saved. I can't remember exactly what I said, or even if I got on my knees. My prayer was child-like, but sincere. Something to the effect of "God, please save me, I know I'm not good enough, but I want to go to Heaven when I die."

But...nothing happened. Or so it seemed. In my mind, the way I pictured salvation was some ethereal, life-changing, and joyous experience. Accompanied with this overwhelming conviction of sin, resulting faith in God, and a dramatic, obvious change in the new Christian's life. But none of this happened to me. I felt gutted. Disappointed. And with no more assurance that I was saved than before my prayer.