Life Stories (224)
I am blessed for being raised in a Christian home with loving parents. I always knew that God loved me and cared for me and I accepted him as my savior at the age of four. In the years after that, I continued on with this mindset knowing that God loved me and cared for me but not knowing what to do about it.
I grew up in a Christian family, so I was surrounded by God and the church from the very beginning. I was raised in a Christian home, but just followed through the motions of doing “Christian things” that I thought you were supposed to do. I didn’t know Him, I just knew about Him. I found myself searching for purpose and meaning in people and also in myself. Whether that was my friends or in relationships, I poured my whole heart into them.
I was raised in a Christian home. My parents' example was powerful, and it so it was logical for me, as a young boy, to accept the Lord Jesus as my Saviour, in response to an altar call at our home church. Later as a teenager, I also joined our church through baptism.
I was privileged to be raised in a Christian home, the youngest of 9 children. When I was 5, I accepted Christ into my life at an evangelistic meeting. Being able to attend church and Sunday School helped me grow spiritually.
At the age of 12, I deepened my commitment by joining the church through baptism. Attending a Christian high school helped me to further strengthen my walk with the Lord.
I grew up in a non-Christian home in Northern Ontario. My parents love me dearly, and want the best for me, but they never knew Christ, and didn’t teach me or my brother about God. Up until my teen years, I didn’t care either. When I was 14, my cousin Cody died suddenly, and accidentally. I didn't understand my grief, but it hit my family hard. Their hearts were heavy with a pain I couldn't understand or heal. I fell into a depression that lasted for four years, everything I ever thought I knew about myself slipped away.
I was born to a God-loving family on February 16, 1996. I grew up hearing and learning about God from birth, I invited Jesus to come into my life at the tender young age of 5 or so. But like most kids who grow up in Christian families, the impact of Jesus’ death for my sins, was never really a reality for me.
There isn`t any particular day that I recall accepting Christ as my Lord and Savior. He has always been. My family attended and served consistently in the Lutheran church. I was baptized as an infant, and attended two years of Christian study prior to confirming my faith and baptism publicly at the age of 16. As a young girl, I loved learning about God `s lessons for us in the Bible. I prided myself on knowing all the answers in Sunday school and spent many hours alone with the Lord, singing new songs straight from my heart to him, bringing my concerns to him in prayer, in constant awe of all He created and curling up in the safety and comfort of His arms. `Such as these` As an adult though, the questions got tougher, the concerns more complicated, the insecurities bigger and self-reliance more common.
I grew up going to church with my family, and lived in a mostly Christian home. My mom was a strong believer, but my dad didn’t participate in anything more than Easter and Christmas. My older brother and sister were always close to me, and together they shaped me the most during my childhood and youth. I moved to Kelowna when I was 10, and shortly after that my dad decided to leave our family. Looking back, I am able to see God’s protection over me because I don’t think I really felt the effects of that until years later. Though we learned to manage, my mom became severely depressed for a long time, which had its own effects on our family.
I lived selfishly, as though I was the most important person in my world. I was hard-hearted toward others and definitely did not entertain the notion of God being involved in my life, in any way. I ignored the most important responsibilities in my life: *My family, *My marriage, *My questions about God and eternity.