His Unspeakable Gift by Dawn Martin I remember when I was nine or ten years old thinking that someday when I was older, I’d be a Christian. Then when I was eleven we bought our farm. One time Dad, Daniel, Timothy, and I came up here. (We hadn’t moved yet.) We decided to walk our back boundary line. When we were coming back I was thinking, “I’m lost”. However I didn’t do anything about it. There were things that I was doing that I knew weren’t right; and when we moved the next spring, I was planning to stop doing those things. Of course, I couldn’t. As the years went by, the Lord spoke to me often, and often I refused. Still, I thought if I ever was to be a Christian, I’d be a real one. I’m not sure when, but sometime I began to believe that God wasn’t real. I never denied that I wasn’t good; but I reasoned that if God, Jesus, the Bible, etc. was all a myth, I didn’t need to answer for my sins. I could work things out myself and didn’t need God’s help, I thought. I was proud. Oh, what a miserable life! I was afraid- afraid to die and maybe find out that I was wrong- afraid that someone would talk to me about salvation... Several times Mom and others spoke to me a little. How I hated it! I felt trapped somehow and left as soon as I could. I hated to listen to preaching on salvation. I would try to block it out. Even a thought of Jesus or Christianity caused my heart to rebel. How I hated that name! I would never be a Christian. I tried to appear as if religion didn’t matter to me at all; as if I was totally unaffected by it. I think John 3:20 describes it: “For everyone that doing evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved.” As time went on I continued to be a miserable wretch. I began to see that I couldn’t work out my problems. Instead they got worse. I finally prayed that if God was real, would He show me that he was. Sometime later on in December, Grandpa’s were up to visit and we all went over to my uncle’s for the evening. We were singing. I was feeling extra miserable, and when we got home, Mom asked me if I had changed my mind about God. I nodded "yes" and went to my room and cried. Still I didn’t give up. A few months passed. Meanwhile I started to read my Bible more and more, and I listened to the sermons. I wanted to be free and happy instead of guilty and dirty. I wished someone would talk to me now. One day Timothy wrote me a letter explaining the way of salvation. I read it many times. It was several weeks after my fifteenth birthday, and I was up in my room. I was thinking like this, “I’m fifteen already. I’m sick and tired of my sins. I know what I need to do to be happy; but why don’t I do it? I’ve been going on like this for four or five years already. Is this how I want to spend the rest of my life? No, I want to do what’s right! I just need to ask Jesus to forgive me. Am I sure I want to? I may be persecuted someday for it. Maybe I’ll decide later. But no, what if I died before that. Besides, I know I am wrong and I do need help”. Remembering some verses, I looked them up. “That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God has raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.”-Romans 10:9 I told Jesus that I believe Him. I asked Him to forgive me and make me clean. I thanked Him for dying in my stead and giving me life. Was I happy? Yes! I knew I was forgiven! I felt so clean, happy, free, safe! I was so happy that I had to tell someone. Coming down, I found Mom in the kitchen and told her. Now I often wonder why I waited so long; wasting those years. I thank God that He didn’t stop calling me when I wanted Him to. “Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift.” -II Corinthians 9:15 -Dawn Martin, Potsdam, NY YWSH Main Page