- Parent Category: History
- Category: Personal Stories
- Published on Saturday, 01 July 2006 12:29
My first year of junior high school had been torturous. I wanted to fit in, but my plans for popularity hadn't worked out. During August of 1990, the Christians at the Gospel Hall had Special Gospel Meetings in a big green and white tent.
Every night Mom and Dad dragged us kids to the meetings. I was positive they were telling the preachers about my sins. Every meeting the preaching pierced my thought life. I could only keep my composure if I didn’t make eye contact and didn’t sing.
Sitting through the meeting was bad enough. The ride home was worse. My brother Scott had just come home from the Army. He had been saved for three years and loved to talk about it. Scott thought his job was to preach another sermon on the way home. He would "rant and rave" about the shortness of life. That just terrified me! I didn't want to be in hell forever.
Then came the flood of joy! My sister Vanessa was saved on August 19th. She shared a bedroom with me. Now I was sure I would be bombarded with the gospel message as soon as I got home from school.
Five days later, God saved my brother Aaron. I was an emotional roller coaster! I would whimper through hymns at the end of meeting s with tears in my eyes. Thoughts of death and hell tortured me every waking moment.
Vanessa told me she was praying for me. Scott lectured me on the agonies of hell. Aaron just cried as he tried to tell me whatever it was he said. I didn't want to hear them. I tried not to listen.
I would go to bed at night and cry myself to sleep. I would promise God that I would be a good person and never sin again if I could only stop thinking about hell. Everyday I felt more exhausted and helpless. I knew that if died I would be in hell alone to be punished for my sins (Romans 6:23). That is what I deserved.
In one message, the preacher spoke how God has our breath in His hand. He can close it whenever he wishes. Right then, I knew there was nothing I could do. I was a sinner bound for hell with no hope. I could see my soul slipping from the grasp of the Savior’s hand as He said, "It's too late, Lynette."
We went home and I struggled off to bed. As I lay there looking through the window at the stars, suddenly I realized there is nothing for me to do. The Lord Jesus paid the price for sins. He finished the work of paying for my sins on the cross of Calvary.
Getting down on my knees in all my sins I accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal Savior. For the first time, I thanked Him for finishing the work for ME! (August 26, 1990)