I Will Testify

My dad was pretty easy going for the most part, but there were a few things I learned pretty early on that were Daddy's way or the highway. Things like where he kept his tools in his workshop or the way he carved his cheese or the level of respect he expected me to give to my elders ... certain things I simply knew were never going to be negotiable with Daddy. And one of those non-negotiable items was church ... growing up in my dad's house meant growing up in a Southern Baptist church, no questions asked, no debate, no argument ... as long as I lived in his house, Daddy expected me to attend the Baptist church. And attending a Baptist church in the South meant going to services not only on Sunday mornings but on Sunday and Wednesday evenings as well ... every week ... yes, three services a week, every week. I know that boggles the minds of some of my friends from the Midwest, many of whom attend churches that only have Sunday morning services and then meet in small groups once a week away from the church itself. But honestly ... we went to church three times a week, and we had full-blown services each time, plus we did Sunday School and Training Union before the Sunday morning and Sunday evening services.

I have a ton of memories from my youthful church years, but one type of service we often had left many fond recollections seared into my heart and mind. Quite frequently, our pastor would step aside from the pulpit and ask if anyone had any prayer requests or anything on their heart they would like to share. Many, many times the needs would be so great or the pain so deep that he would ask the congregation to come to the altar of the church and pray ... oh, do I remember those prayer times ... oh, do I remember the fervent prayers of some of those older saints ... down on their knees, lifting up their brothers and sisters before the Lord. I also remember times when someone would rise to their feet when the pastor asked if anyone wanted to share ... when a person would stand and say, "I will testify," and then proceed to proclaim the name of Jesus, to praise Him for the gift of salvation, to recount the change He had brought about in his or her life.

It's been almost 12 years since I met Jesus Christ ... face down on the floor in a small prayer room at my church. Even though I grew up in the church, my knowledge of God was head knowledge only. It wasn't until my life was completely unraveling that I finally admitted my need for a real and life-changing heart relationship with my Savior. And the most amazing realizations of that day for me? He had been waiting for me to come to Him ... He was ready with open arms for me to invite Him in ... He loved me long before I loved Him. I was baptized that same afternoon ... a cold and rainy Monday afternoon in September ... with my children and a few close friends there to share the moment with me. My life, as those of you who read this blog on a regular basis well know, has certainly not been perfect since that day; in fact, in some ways, it's been more challenging than ever before. But I can't imagine life without Jesus, and I'm so grateful that He stepped into that little room that day and covered me with His precious blood.

Sometimes I miss church the way it was when I was young, sometimes I really do. I attend a rather large church, so I understand that one of those old-time praying and testifying services just wouldn't work well for our format. But there are still times when I find myself wishing for the front of the church to be filled with people on their knees praying for one another. There are times when I'd like to see someone jump up and say, "He saved this old sinner boy ... He surely did ... praise His holy name." And there are times when I would like to hear an entire service filled with voices raised in unison in praise and worship to the Father. Even as I type those words, I'm well aware that God calls me to pray for my brothers and sisters every day, that He gives me countless opportunities to testify to His saving power and immeasurable grace and mercy, that He desires my heart to reside in a constant state of praise and worship.

Thank you for the day You saved me, Lord ... thank You for the people You put in my life to lead me to You. I will pray, Lord, and I will testify ... You saved this old sinner gal ... You surely did ... praise Your holy name.