Hi, I am a mother of five. The oldest being 21 and the youngest 11. I have been married for going on 23 years.
My oldest brother introduced me to Christ when I was in eighth grade. Although I repeated the sinners prayer I did not
accept Christ in my heart at that time. However, I began to be aware of my sinful nature. During the next four years I became increasingly
afraid. I knew heaven and Hell were real and most of my family were Christians and, not intentionally, were a constant reminder that I was lost.
I kept denying that Jesus would actually come back. I was very shy in highschool plus being a goody two-shoes made it easy to pass for
a Christian. Real Christians were probably mot fooled because I avoided talking about Jesus at all cost. But they were the only people
I felt the slightest bit comfortable around. I never felt as if I belonged; not even with my own family even though I knew they loved me very much.
By my senior year the fear had grown to the point that I would not voluntarily go anywhere by myself. Not even out to the curb for the mail. If I was with people
I knew It was not so bad. During this year God gave me three dreams. Two of them nightmares really. One was about the rapture -- I didn't make it.
Was about the Day of the Lord. In that one I remember hiding behind a rock with a friend who was praying that Jesus would come and save us while I was thinking
that was the last thing I wanted to happen. Shortly after that I was laying in bed late at night and heard gunshots. That was not so unusual because we lived within
hearing distance of the fairgrounds. Normally I would have thought nothing of it but that night I was terrified. I actually believed it was the beginning of the Great Tribulation and that all the Christians had been raptured and I was left behind. I could not stop trembling. I lay there with my head under the covers shaking and hoping beyond hope that my brother would come home. He was a born again Christian and if he came home I knew I was safe.
After that night I knew I had to ask Jesus to forgive me. My bus driver was a Christian and I was her last drop off so I waited until we were at my destination
and I sked her to pray for me. You know It's ironic in a way. When I was 13 I actually verbalized the sinner's prayer and I was not recieved. This time my bus driver said the prayer for me (I could not have spoken for the life of me.) and not only was I graciously recieved but I was set free. The weight of my sin and fear was literally lifted from my back and for the first time in my life I truely belonged. The Lord truely does know the heart and is not at all impressed with empty words.
Shorly after this God gave me another dream; the Rapture happened. I had made it.