Getting to Know You, Part 2

Susan Raber, Accounts Manager & Ladies’ Forum Director

I have been thinking about how to include my story of how I came to know Jesus Christ as my personal Savior in this blog since I began writing it back in October 2007. I wasn’t sure if I could do a good job of it without writing a novel, but I am going to attempt to cover the important elements that I believe brought me to the place I needed to be for God to shine the light of truth on my heart and reveal to me how much I needed Him.

My parents became Christians when I was about four years old. They have a backstory that makes most soap operas look boring, so their conversion to a life dedicated to holiness was truly miraculous. Their conversion means that I was raised in a Christian home and in church with most of my close friends being church kids and from missionary families. I loved the life—listening to preaching, memorizing Scripture, and having a loving and stable home life. I went forward during a service when I was six years old, probably because my older brother went forward. Anything he could do I could do better.

Looking back on our lives, we see all of these pivotal moments, and my first was when my father died of a heart attack on Thanksgiving Day, one month before my thirteenth birthday. I was standing beside him while he was looking at my report card—and I swear it was all A’s, really. He slumped over, and he was gone. Of course, his death broke my heart.

I went to a Christian school from seventh grade on and took it for granted that I would attend a Christian college, using the time to “find myself” before I made any commitments to a course of study or career. I made good grades and stayed out of big trouble. I did end up going to Bible college and met my husband there. We started our lives together working in various aspects of ministry.

My husband and I were burning out without realizing it. We threw ourselves on every spiritual grenade that came our way. The result was that we became hurt and bitter, not having the maturity to properly process the downsides to ministering to people with real problems and to deal with the shortcomings of those who were our mentors. Our pride prevented us from stepping down or getting help when we really needed it—or even realizing that our condition as being spiritually in peril.

Our marriage started coming apart, my husband slipped back into substance abuse, and we were headed for destruction. I couldn’t believe that this was my life. How did I get there? It wasn’t supposed to be like this! I felt betrayed and abandoned—by family who wouldn’t tell my husband to get his act together and do right by his wife and child, by folks who were supposed to be able to help us but turned the other way, and by God, who in my opinion wasn’t paying much attention to my plight.

I had read my Bible every day since I could read, so one morning at my kitchen table with my Bible and my coffee, I started reading 1 Peter 3. I swear verse 12 was not in there the last time I read the Bible. “For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers: but the face of the Lord is against them that do evil.” So God and I began this little conversation.

“Me? Evil? Look, I have memorized entire chapters of the Bible, taught Sunday school for years, been a leader and a speaker, and been in every church position you care to name, including the janitor but excluding pastor.”

“But what about what I did for you?”

“I know what You did for me. You died on the cross, and that was great and all, but I have to be saved because I have done all the right things all of my life!”

“But what about what I did for you?”

“I get it, I get it. But You aren’t listening to me. I love church. I love the Bible. I am a good person who does not deserve all of this trouble!”

“No, you aren’t listening to Me. What about WHAT I DID FOR YOU?”

It probably took only a few seconds for what God had said to sink in, but those were the longest seconds of my life. It struck me that I was holding up the filthy rags of my righteousness in the face of an Almighty God. I was actually comparing my good works to His holiness and my trials to His substitutionary death on the cross to pay my sin debt so I could experience redemption and eternal life. Right then and out loud I said, “I’m not saved.” I was gulping like a goldfish that had fallen out of its bowl, and I managed to squeak out, “Lord, save me!”

And isn’t that how it is? When we come to the realization of who we are and who God is, we don’t have eloquent words or impressive prayers. I wanted Him to know ASAP that I acknowledged my lost condition and that He needed to get busy saving me real quick!

Here I was, knowing all of those verses by heart, having studied the Bible for years. When it came to praying for salvation, the best I could do was “Lord, save me!” What a goober. But that is all He wants from us—to humbly claim the salvation He provided for us as our own gift from Him.

What can we possibly do to impress our Creator?

Isaiah 57:15 says, “For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.”