May I Tell You My Story?

Last Sunday at church I was again challenged to write

"My Story" and share it with at least

one person this week.

The story of how Jesus came into my life and

why He will be my Lord forever.

I can't tell you how many years I've realized that

I need (and want) to do this.

In my usual perfectionist manner, I was and am hesitant.

Not because I'm not sure.

Because I'm afraid I won't tell it perfectly.

Because I'm afraid it will be too long.

If it's not too long, then I may leave something out.

"Get thee behind me Satan!"

I'm doin' this.

 ************************

 From the time I was very young, I was blessed to be 

surrounded by the knowledge and love of Jesus.

 My parents were believers.

They took us to church every week.

I invited Jesus to live in my heart at a young age and

was baptized.

I feel that I muddled through my child raising years,

really trying to handle life in my own power.

 I was a faithful church attender, and would have

been called a "good person."

I devoted a fair amount of time to attempting to

 serve others... again, as best I could powered by

my own ability and fluctuating dedication.

 I feel that my faith in Jesus Christ was always

there, but very anemic.

I was lacking that personal relationship with Him;

that surrender of my desires to His plan.

(Wow.  Did God ever cover me. 

Just look at His two children, Susan and Jay!

To Him be the glory.)

Two things happened in the year 2001.

Simultaneously.  

Alzheimer's in Jack and Bible Study Fellowship

for me.

I began a steady progression toward 

constant communion and closeness

 with my Savior.

And He was my Savior through this time.

(As always.)

He truly rescued me from despair.

He drew me closer.  I now feel Him

 every minute of my life.

I pray without ceasing.

He is my life.

He is my world.

Without Him I could do nothing.

Without Him I'd surely fail.

Without Him I would be drifting,

Like a ship without a sail.

And that is My Story.