The Little Church on County Line Road
Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it.
I was 9 years old the first time I heard God speak to me. I didn’t know it was God at the time and to be honest, I never truly realized it until I started writing my story. I want to say it seems funny how the memories started coming back to me as I started writing them down. But I don’t think it’s coincidental at all, I think it all comes back to God. He is allowing the memories to come back exactly as he wants them to be shared. So that is exactly how I will share my memories and stories.
Have you ever listened to someone share their experience of how they first gave their heart to the Lord? Usually when a person shares their story, they can describe this event with such detail and clarity it is almost like you were sitting right there in the room and experienced the event alongside of them. This is not something I can do.
I attended Sunday school and church my whole young life. We were raised in a Pentecostal church and most people understand the Pentecostal people attend church a lot. Every Sunday morning, every Sunday evening, Wednesday nights, and any other day or night the church doors were open. I doubt we ever missed a revival or a special guest musician.
Having a mom who worked hard in factories all day made Wednesday nights harder to attend. And as a kid, I would get excited when we got to skip a Wednesday night service, stay home and watch Jamie Sommers on the Bionic Woman or Linda Carter and her golden lasso of truth on Wonder Woman. I don’t think there is a kid who was raised in the 70’s that did not love those shows. As an adult, I can totally understand that it’s hard after a long day at work to muster up the extra energy to drive over to the church for a service, bible study or even an hour of prayer with the loyal congregants. I find this very hard and still don’t make it to every mid-week gathering.
But, just as my grandma had taken my mom to church on a regular basis, my mom made sure she took us. And I am sure the fact that my grandma lived with us throughout my elementary years was a factor because Grandma did not miss a church service. Looking back now, this firm foundation in Jesus that was instilled in me as a child served me well as I stumbled my way through life. And boy have I stumble along the way!
So, on one of those Sunday evening services when I was 9 years old at County Line Assembly of God church, I gave my heart to the Lord for the first time. I can’t tell you if I had gotten into trouble earlier that day and was feeling guilty. I don’t remember if there were issues at home during this time. I can’t tell you what time of year it was, what the sermon was about or what songs were sung that night. What I do remember is the overwhelming need to run to that alter fall on my knees and cry out to the Lord. I remember the ladies of the church laying hands on me and helping me pray the sinner’s prayer, you know those prayer warriors who are always prepared to help those calling out in need. I remember it felt like I was there for hours crying my eyes out and I remember after leaving the alter the overwhelming need to run back to the presence of the Lord and that is when I heard God for the first time, he said, “I am not done with you yet.”
I wish I could say that from that moment on I never strayed. But that is not the case, I spent many years trying to outrun my destiny. Ignoring the call God has for my life. I would say I have had an on again off again relationship with Jesus over the years. I have never stopped believing but I have certainly wondered away from home from time to time and I absolutely wondered farther than I should have on multiple occasions. I have found myself lost and in deep trouble more times than I care to count.
Until recently I don’t think I had a clue of the depths of Gods plan for my life. To be honest, I probably still don’t, because he is not done yet. I spent those years bound and determined not to find out. I used to blame peer pressure, the atmosphere where I worked, my husband, and any other excuse I could come up with, they are too numerous to count. It took me a very long time, but the truth is there was no one to blame but myself. I allowed the enemy to influence my life and I made the choices that directed my path.
After so many years of running, I look back and realize I am so thankful for my mom who prayed Acts 16:31 over her family every day and still does now. For a mom and grandma who instilled a strong foundation of God’s love and forgiveness in my life. That foundation taught me exactly where to run when I was lost or in trouble. I ran there a lot over the years. Today, I have learned throughout my life that God is always true to his word, and he certainly is not done with me yet.
Acts 16:31
And they said, believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.