I’ll never forget the day I told my Sunday school teacher I wasn’t a Christian back in 3rd grade.
Like every summer, I was spending a week at Grandma’s in Fort Hancock, Texas, so I could go to vacation Bible school. What I knew about the Bible I learned from Grandma.
Since I was a visitor, the Baptist Church lady asked, “Honey, you’re a Christian, right?”
“Nope,” I said.
“Aren’t you Doris Fry’s granddaughter?” she said.
“Well, honey, if you’re Doris Fry’s granddaughter, of course you’re a Christian.” She checked off the box on my visitor registration card.
She could check off the box if she wanted, but I knew she was wrong.
In High School, I hoped I wouldn’t get hit by a car or die because I guessed I’d go straight to hell. I thought being a Christian meant following a list of rules, and that didn’t sound any fun. I wanted to put that off for as long as I could.
I went off to university, trying my hardest to be the best I could be so people would like me. A friend in my dorm invited me to a Bible study, and I took a whole slew of girls, including one who showed up drunk most Tuesday nights. I liked those Bible study girls, but I wondered what the big deal about Jesus was.
Until the night when the drunk girl poured her bottle of vodka out onto the street and told me she was giving her life to Jesus. She read these words:
As that vodka splashed out onto the street, God got me. I understood He loved me, and I knew why Jesus came.
That Texas girl who worked hard to please everyone and hoped they’d like her grew into a woman who knew this:
The faith that started out as a mustard seed in my heart grew into a song. The song goes like this:
I’m God’s daughter.
I belong to Him, and He loves me.
I don’t have to try to make God like me. He already does. He loves me not for what I’ve done or might do. He loves me because of what Jesus did.
When He looks at me, He sees a precious treasure, bought and made clean by the blood of Christ.
I’m forgiven and free.
He made me beautiful to shine His glory in my corner of the world.
That’s my story. That’s the song I hope will spill over into my attitudes and actions.
That’s the faith I hope spills over into my family and community.
My grandma spilled that faith onto me when she prayed for me every day. That girl in the dorm shared her song with me when she invited me to Bible study.
You know what? He made you beautiful too. Let’s share our songs and shine His glory in our world.