One of the commenters here asked me to share my testimony. My testimony really isn’t “mine” but a testimony of how God is willing to radically change our lives if we will do one simple thing: just ask Him to.

I was raised in the tiny town of Thunderbolt, Georgia, a small fishing village just outside of Savannah. We kids were free to roam and do as we pleased with no thought of pedophiles or other dangers that children have to face nowadays. We spent most of our days playing sandlot baseball, carrying on the tradition of my father who played professionally for a short time. There was no television in those days so we we happily entertained ourselves fishing, playing Monoply, and going to movies on Saturday when we weren’t on the baseball diamond. It was an idyllic life in many ways. However, my family was torn apart early on by divorce, and conflicting religious beliefs. Both my parents had been previously married, and I had a half-sister by my Dad’s first marriage, to whom I was very close in my younger years. However, when I was very young she was returned to the custody of her mother, by order of the court, to be raised in the Catholic religion. My father strenuously objected, and the two became estranged. I was not to see my beloved sister again, except for one occasion, until my father’s funeral over 50 years later.

Hearing the arguments in my family about the difference in Prostestants and Catholics turned me off completely to religion. So did the signs throughout the south at that time. They were everywhere. “Repent or burn in hell” was painted on almost every barn roof, along with the Mail Pouch Tobacco signs. So I developed a real distaste for religion. I though God was angry and mean. Because of my sister being taken away, I thought of Him as a take away God.

Fast forward a few years. My family and two younger sisters moved to Atlanta. I was now a small town “hick” in the big city. I was completely out of place. Slowly, I began to adjust to city life. It did hold lots of new and interesting things. I had my first fast food hamburger. I was at a Woolworth’s lunch counter when Martin Luther King came in during the “sit-ins” of the 60’s. I saw religious segregation end in the First Baptist Church of Atlanta, where Charles Stanley now pastors. It was a tense moment, with TV camaras and the national news media present, but all went well and the church made history in the south. The old church has been torn down down now, but it was there I first accepted Christ.

Fast forward another few years. I married a man who was not a practicing Christian, and for years afterward neither was I. We had been married for 16 years without live children. I had a premature first baby, which didn’t survive the first year of our marriage, and many miscarriages after that. Sixteen years later, and six months after my last miscarriage I was sitting in my living room when suddenly I knew I was pregnant again. Although I had not prayed in years, I said to the Lord, “Please don’t let me be pregnant if I can’t carry this one.” My prayer was answered. The doctor confirmed I was indeed pregnant. For some reason, once I found out I was at complete peace. I knew in my heart everything would be all right, although my doctor had serious doubts because I was 39 years old at the time. My gynecologist had studied under a doctor in Vienna who specialized in problem pregnancies, so he put me under a strict regimen. For nine months I could eat nothing with food additives or take any kind of medicine, or travel. I particpated in a hospital study of pregnant women with a history of miscarriage. I was ultrasounded every week so I could see the development of my child.

She was born by Ceasearean section, a healthy beautiful child. My ob/gyn, who was Jewish, was profoundly moved because I had told him the story of how I was sitting in the living room, and knew the Lord would give me a heathy baby when my pregnancy was confirmed. At the time, he shrugged it off. However, the morning after her birth, he came in, visibly shaken, and said “Marge, a very stange thing happened. When I took that baby out of your womb she was smiling.” We both knew something profound had happened. The whole hospital celebrated with us.

The birth of my daughter changed my whole outlook about Christ. I finally knew that He was Lord, whereas before I had accepted it only on a superficial level.

My former husband could not adjust to the changes a baby brought to our carefree life, however. We divorced when she was two years old. For a great deal of her life I was a struggling single mom. I got very close to the Lord in those days because He was all I had to rely on. Now my daughter is 27 years years old and a very fine woman in her own right. I look back on those years, as difficult as they were, and see the Lord always had His hand on me even though I didn’t know it. I’m grateful to Him for waking me up, and making me know for sure how awesome He really is, for on my own that never would have happened.

It was pure unmerited, amazing grace, and for that I will be eternally grateful.