Life Stories (232)
As a young child, I grew up in a Christian home and I was blessed with parents who loved the Lord. They always set amazing examples for my siblings and I. I remember giving my life to Jesus when I was 5.
I grew up in a Christian home all my life. My mom and Dad were strong influences in my decision to follow Christ. I remember when I was young my mother sat down with me and asked me if I wanted to have Jesus in my heart. I asked her what she meant and she explained to me that he gave his life for us and to save us from our sins so that we could be with him one day in heaven and that if we accept this he will be with us every day of our lives. Simply put and straight to the point. I accepted Jesus that day and prayed with my mom to have Jesus in my life.
I lived my life with my own interests in mind; I wasn’t particularly concerned with how I treated others. I was a decently well behaved young man, but didn’t have the caring, generous, and kind mind set of a Christ Follower.
I was fortunate enough to be raised by Jesus-loving parents. We attended a Mennonite Brethren church, I went to Sunday school, we went to church picnics, and we sang hymns straight from the hymnal. Life was good. I was home schooled. I lived in a bubble.
I was born in The Netherlands and lived there and in Curacao (in the Caribbean) most of my life. As a child I was allowed to visit my friend’s church. I went there once but didn’t like the smell of incense. I also attended a one-hour-a-week class of ‘religion’ at the public school. If you didn’t go you had to do math, an easy choice. I heard some Bible stories, but I thought they were like a fairy tale.
I was born into a great Christian home with great Christian models from an early age. I accepted Christ when I was 2 years old, back when my family and I lived in Prince George. When I was 3, we moved to Kelowna because my Dad got a job here.
There wasn’t much spiritual growth or descent that I went through at that early age, mostly because I had no understanding of what Christ meant to me. I would go to church with my parents and go to kid’s church where I would learn about the stories of the Bible and that was really all the “spirituality” I got.
I, like many others, was blessed to be born into a believing and God-fearing family. I remember one evening when I was 5 years old, as they were tucking me into bed, my parents prompted me to ask Jesus into my heart. I remember questioning them if it was really necessary. I felt like Jesus was already there and inviting him in seemed redundant. Nonetheless I prayed the prayer and God placed his spirit within me.
I grew up in a Christian family attending the Salvation Army until July last year. I asked Jesus into my heart when I was 5. I have basically been a Christian my whole life. I never really questioned the existence of God.
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.