The Night I Knew
It was New Year's Eve and I was riding in the back of my family's station wagon as we drove home from chapel after midnight. The stars were bright, and I pressed my cheek against the window as I strained to look up at them. I thought about how vast the universe was, and how small I felt.
I remember wondering what God thought about the new year starting, and if the rapture would happen soon. The rapture scared me then and everyone seemed so certain that it was going to be anytime, what with the way things were going in the world. I knew I wasn't supposed to be afraid, but what I didn't know was whether I was saved. I was nine, and remembered praying some kind of "salvation prayer" when I was five with my parents. Then I remember praying by myself other times in case God didn't hear me the first time. But I might as well have been reciting a secret magic code that was supposed to get me to heaven.
I wanted so badly to be sure. To know deep down inside that if I died I would be in heaven. I remember silently telling all this to God that night the best way that I could. I told God I didn't want to be scared anymore, I just wanted to know that He heard me. I knew that Jesus died for me, and I just had to believe. As I prayed, a peace slowly came over me--a growing conviction that I had been heard by God and that everything would be ok. A conviction that no matter what would ever happen, He would always be there and be near. A tear or two fell down my cheek in the dark, and I just kept looking at the stars. The universe seemed friendler. Looking back now, I understand that God always knew me. But that was the night that I came to know Him.
I remember wondering what God thought about the new year starting, and if the rapture would happen soon. The rapture scared me then and everyone seemed so certain that it was going to be anytime, what with the way things were going in the world. I knew I wasn't supposed to be afraid, but what I didn't know was whether I was saved. I was nine, and remembered praying some kind of "salvation prayer" when I was five with my parents. Then I remember praying by myself other times in case God didn't hear me the first time. But I might as well have been reciting a secret magic code that was supposed to get me to heaven.
I wanted so badly to be sure. To know deep down inside that if I died I would be in heaven. I remember silently telling all this to God that night the best way that I could. I told God I didn't want to be scared anymore, I just wanted to know that He heard me. I knew that Jesus died for me, and I just had to believe. As I prayed, a peace slowly came over me--a growing conviction that I had been heard by God and that everything would be ok. A conviction that no matter what would ever happen, He would always be there and be near. A tear or two fell down my cheek in the dark, and I just kept looking at the stars. The universe seemed friendler. Looking back now, I understand that God always knew me. But that was the night that I came to know Him.
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