Testimony Tuesday

Tim Challies has dubbed today ?Testimony Tuesday.? I’ve never shared my testimony here at IsaiahSix, so the opportunity seems to be appropriate.

If a testimony is one’s story of how God saved him or her, then most testimonies are not really testimonies. They’re life stories covering the events of one’s life from childhood on. That’s okay. It’s just that some life stories aren’t very exciting. And mine belongs in the category of downright boring.

I understand fully the difficulty a parent or a pastor faces when a young child says they have been ?saved.? Do they even know what they’re talking about? Do they know why? Do they know the events that took place to make salvation possible? Are they doing this because they’ve seen others do it? The younger a child is, the more important these questions become.

I was five years old when I accepted Christ as my Savior. I had grown up (well, as much as a five year old could have grown up) worshiping at an independent, fundamental Baptist church. We were there frequently. Worship services at noon on Sunday (later than everyone else because the services were broadcast live on the church’s self-owned radio station) and again at 7:30 on Sunday night. Prayer Meeting at 7:30 on Wednesday. I remember those times vividly because all the men came to the altar (women and children were invited to stay in their seats) and prayed out loud?very out loud. After some time?probably thirty minutes or more?the prayer would come to an end and the pastor would preach a full-length sermon.

I attended the private school operated by the church until I was in third grade. So, every day except Saturdays I was immersed in some sort of biblical training.¹

One Sunday afternoon in November of 1978 I was playing outside in our backyard. Not really doing much of anything, just walking around poking a stick in the dirt. It wasn’t audible, but the message was loud and clear: ?Come to Me.? Literally those words, ?Come to Me,? and nothing more. I sat down on our back steps and accepted Christ. I hadn’t noticed a burden before, but it felt as though weight had been lifted from my five year old body. I don’t know what that might have been, but I remember the feeling.

That incident seemed so natural to me that I didn’t think much of telling my parents until a few days later. We were in our car, an ugly green Ford Galaxy 500. I somehow mentioned to my mother that I had been saved. She whipped her head around and began to ask questions to make sure I understood what I was talking about. I did. Within a couple of weeks, my mother took me by the hand and we ?walked the aisle.? In hindsight, the pastor should have been more thorough in his inquiry into my salvation, not because I hadn’t really been saved, but if he handled all five year olds that way, surely some would have fallen through the cracks. I remember his joking about the tear I dropped on the pleather bench. ?Don’t worry about that, Son, it’s not real leather.?

I’ve never questioned the reality of the events of that day. I’ve strayed from time to time, as we all do. But I’ve never doubted the efficacy of my salvation. I have been a follower of Christ since then.

And although I’ve never taken drugs or smoked a cigarette, and although I could count the number of alcoholic drinks I’ve ever had on one hand, my testimony is the same as yours. It’s the same testimony as someone who has been saved out of a life on the streets. It’s the same testimony as a former drug addict. It all boils down to John Newton’s immortal words: I am a great sinner, and Christ is a great Savior.

Impacting the Kingdom through Worship,

1. My wife still doesn’t believe me when I say my first reading book in Kindergarten was a full copy of Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress. [back]