I'm glad I got your attention.
I was not raised in a Christian home. Yes I was taken to Sunday school as a little'un but eventually we stopped going. The only Christian influence for the longest time was my Aunt Joyce, who was perhaps the person who opened up the concept of Christianity to me when she gave me a NIrV Bible for my birthday. But that was years ago and for the longest time I did not read it.
I went on with my life, and during my high school years I was by human standards an excellent person: obedient to a fault, devoted to school, polite, timely and incredibly intelligent. However, I had some ungodly tendancies, mostly in the field of sexuality. I was prone to lust very easily and perhaps the most perverted person in mind and mouth that you'd meet. Some might say that I was "repressed" sexually, and I can understand their reasoning. Up to then, I had not had a serious relationship with my two girlfriends. I hadn't even been kissed.
Prior to then, I had decided that I would read the Bible out of boredom. So I pulled out my NIrV Bible and read through the New Testament. It didn't really affect me. It was just a famous book with lots of rules and miracles. I didn't doubt the existence of Jesus, nor did I doubt the possibility that he was in fact God's son. I just had not been shown logical proof and had no firsthand experience. Anyway, I then went into the Old Testament but gave up somewhere around Exodus. Those first books are long!
Then high school roles around. Over time I ended up being in what I affectionately call my high school's "Bible Belt". Many of the kids I would hang out with in the morning were Christians. They didn't affect me, but it was quite an interesting thing for me to notice. Here I am, an athiest (and a peaceful one, not the kind that hears the word Christian and goes on the attack) hanging with all these Christians!
But what really converted me was something that one of these friends did for me during junior year of high school. It was lunch and I was sitting with two athiest friends (both of them slightly more aggressive than me. One of them, a close friend, would make for interesting debate and for the longest time I'd side with him.) and a Christian friend. I was eating popcorn and my throat was sore. I jokingly asked my Christian friend, "Could you pray for me? My throat's sore." and he consented. He prayed silently, in his head. About thirty seconds later, I felt the pain go away. It wasn't instant, it was more of a fade. But not the gradual kind of fade you normally feel. It left in a matter of two or three second. I sat there shocked and said, "Dude, the pain's gone!" It did eventually return, but the sudden fade was enough to make me consider that God might be real.
Months pass and fall/winter comes upon us. That memory has faded from my mind and I'm watching History Channel, and it's showing a special about the 2012 Apocolypse. About a dozen different prophets from throughout time, not just Nostradamus, the Mayans and the Hopi, all point to something happening in 2012. And then, they show something that has to do with crossing below the center of the galaxy and astrological signs that indicate that and I realized, "These are too many to be a coincidence. Oh no! The apocolypse really will be in 2012!" They had hit me in the one spot I held closest: science.
Now hold up a minute. When you hear the word "Apocalypse", what comes to your mind? The end of the world? According to who? The Bible, that's who. And I thought to myself, "If the Bible's true... then God must be real! And so is Hell! I don't want to go to Hell!" So at 7:00 PM on a Sunday afternoon, I brought my hands together for prayer and said, "OK God, I know you're real. I want to be part of your family."
And on that night I became a man of faith. I was sixteen years old, halfway through high school. It took me several months to get the courage to ask my mom if I could start attending the local nearby church and at first she said "No." But I told her I was serious and, after she discussed it with my father, she consented. It was a church my grandma had taken me to on a few occasions, but eventually stopped. So the next Sunday I go there. One of the people I met there was a young woman named Rachel. She was a junior during my freshman year, and she did not get along real well with me. But she sees me and we re-introduce ourselves to each other and she invites me to the youth group, which I agree to do.
The first night I went to youth group was, well, weird. I had to leave during the middle for family reasons, nothing serious, but I won't go into detail about them. We had some strange stuff happen. One youth leader was slain in the Spirit. Another member spoke in tongues. A third, who was playing the piano, played "I Surrender" for 25 minutes because he was in that worship state of mind. In retrospect, this was God's way of saying, "This is what you're getting yourself into."
It's been two years. I've learned a lot about God and my faith. I've endured tests and passed most of them. I've had my environment turned upside down due to my beliefs and moving halfway across the country. And this is one Christian nerd that isn't stopping anytime soon.