I WAS LOST !
“Who was that on the telephone?” my mom asked.
“It was Uncle Rollie. He invited us to come to church on Sunday,” answered my dad.
“Oh,” said my mom, “what did you say?”
“I told him, yeah, we’d come.”
“Okay,” She said.
When I heard we were going to church my spirit leapt within me!
Early Sunday morning at 8 o’clock Mom woke me and my brother up. She told us to get up and get dressed for church. I climbed down the ladder from the top bunk and ran to the bathroom to pee first. Then I waited in the bedroom for eight year old Timmy to go pee so I could dress real fast without him seeing me. I brushed my unruly curly hair and bobby pinned the sides back behind my ears.
Our small, third floor apartment in the Lenox building was quiet except for the bathroom door clicking open and shut, the flushing of the toilet and someone brushing their teeth and spitting.
I poured milk over my bowl of cereal and sat down at the red kitchen table to eat. The slow Oakley city traffic outside our apartment building was practically nil this early in the morning. When I finished eating my cornflakes I still had a lump of anticipation in my throat...
... I wondered what was going to happen at this church.
By 9 o’clock we were heading toward Deer Park Baptist Church in our two-toned green Buick. The only noise inside the car was Dad's loud Old Spice cologne.
As we drove city mile after city mile we passed store front churches, clap-board houses, runned down stores and scary neighborhoods. I remembered I had been to only two churches in my life. One was Saint Cecilia Catholic Church with my Aunt Sue in a funny hat. She said I had to wear something on my head before we could go inside. She rooted through her purse and found an unused crinkled tissue. I felt conspicuous every time the tissue fell off my head when we bowed our heads a half dozen times to pray. Aunt Sue and I got tickled and had to leave before church was over.
The second one was a Baptist church in Oakley. A thirteen year old girl named Bobbie from the apartment below us invited me. I liked dressing up with my white lacey gloves, patent leather shoes and purse. My purse held a pack of gum, a dime for the offering and a tissue, just in case, for my head. After my fourth visit to Sunday School I received a small blue Bible. I stopped going to that church because nobody hardly came to Sunday School including the teacher.
When we finally arrived at the Deer Park Baptist Church Uncle Rollie met us with a big smile. He took me to meet Mrs. Youngblood who taught the Bible to fifth grade girls. Her white bun fit neatly under her flowery hat as she taught us eight girls. I wasn’t sure why Mrs. Youngblood kept teaching from her big Bible about the blood of Jesus so much. I thought it had something to do with her name. Every Sunday the blood of Jesus was making more sense in my head but my heart was so heavy.
After six months of going to Deer Park Baptist Church there was a big Revival. I was sad when I heard our regular preacher, Brother Pinson. wasn’t preaching. Instead, his dad preached loud every night for a week and I didn't understand a word.
The piano playing and the choir specials were wonderful! Fifteen to twenty of us children ran up front of the whole church to sing kid Bible songs with hand motions. The people loved us by clapping and shouting Amen! I had never felt so happy and accepted by so many people!
One night at the church revival during the invitation I asked my cousin, “Why are people going up front and crying?” She wagged her head with her finger on her lips for me to be quiet. Something special was going on and nobody was explaining. The next night when the altar call was made I felt something tugging at my heart. I stepped out into the isle and was drawn to the altar.
An adult talked with me about Jesus being the sinless Son of God who came to die for my sins on a cruel cross. I said I already knew that and I truly believed it with my whole heart. He asked if I wanted to ask Jesus to forgive me of my sins and come into my heart. I said yes and he lead me to the Lord with a wonderful prayer.
Immediately, a heavy burden was lifted off my guilty heart! I felt so happy so deep down in my heart that I couldn’t stop crying. I felt like a freed bird from a cage!
As we pulled out of the church parking lot I heard mom and dad whispering, “She’s too young to know what she did at the altar.” When I heard it I knew they were wrong but I said nothing. I would have to show them through my actions that I knew what I had done.
I had known for a long time something was missing in my life; and now I knew the something was someone… Jesus.
Now I didn't just have Him in my head but He was living in my heart, too.
I was lost but now I was found on March 11, 1959. I was eleven and a half years old and so happy beyond my wildest dreams. I couldn't stop telling people about what happened to me!
That was 55 years ago and I still feel excited about having Jesus in my heart and in my daily life. I love His Word and sharing it. He is everything I wanted and much, much more.
Have you asked Jesus into your heart, yet? It's not too late. He's only a prayer away.
Maybe you just want to learn more about Him.
Click the comment section and let's talk :)