Last year, you heard how I came to be a church lady. But church ladies are not redeemed by their talent for making hot dishes or organizing bake sales. They, too, must be redeemed by grace through faith in the atoning death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Sometimes, when I want a laugh, I speculate on what my testimony would sound like as an episode of Unshackled. If you’ve ever heard that long-running dramatic radio program from Chicago’s Pacific Garden Mission, you know the dreadful circumstances from which the profiled men and women are delivered; and the wonderful things that God has done through them.
By contrast, my life has been idyllic. It won’t come as any surprise that I’ve grown up in churches. My earliest memories were of nursery Sunday School at an local Methodist church. My childhood stories were Bible stories, I was interested in knowing what the Bible said, and always preferred a regular church worship service to "children’s church." But all that grounding in the Faith led to one problem. I knew about Jesus, I knew about church ritual, I knew about doctrine, and I knew and believed the Plan of Salvation. But, by the time I got to high school, I wasn’t sure whether I was saved. Yes, even "nice" people need to be Unshackled.
The issue was that, though I knew what the Bible said, and I trusted it was true, I wasn’t entirely sure whether I really believed it, or whether I just thought I did, or whether I just wanted other people to think I did. It may sound odd to tell, but when you’ve always belonged to a group, it’s sometimes hard to tell whether you belong because of habit or whether it's your own choice. I had been confirmed, and had stood up a number of times at altar calls, but I also knew what counts with God is attitude, not action.
Well, in high school, one of my friends was asking me regularly how I knew I was saved. I had been around church long enough to know the right answers, but I wondered whether I gave them because it was expected, or because I really believed them. I thought I really believed them, but, because they were a habit, I wasn’t sure. Finally, when the church youth group was planning to do a study on other faiths, the leader said solely that, because of what we were going to be discussing, all of us needed to be sure we believed in Jesus. When he said that, it was as if a voice inside of me said, "You’re not sure!" And it frightened me, because I wasn’t. But then I heard another internal voice – a voice that was not mine – say impatiently, "Well, Sarah, if you aren’t sure, ask Him now!" Until then, though I would have trusted God with my soul without wavering, it had never occurred me to give God my uncertainty. I prayed silently something to the effect of, "Heavenly Father, I know You are true, and I do want to belong to You, irrevocably, now and always. If there’s anything wrong with my attitude or my faith, fix it, because I do want to belong to You." And He did fix it, because I haven’t been troubled with doubts about my salvation since. In fact, since then, whenever I have any doubts about my attitudes or motives, I present them to God for appropriate alteration.
I tell this story, because we had a situation at our church recently in which someone needed assurance, and, due to an aggressive brain tumor, needed it fast. He knew that Jesus died for rebellious sinners; that He rose from the dead, proving He had paid the price for their rebellion, and that He gives eternal life to all who completely trust Him. But he wasn’t sure he really believed it. I tell this story now, as a reminder to anyone who might share this dear man’s uncertainty: that God can be trusted even with that.
When I think of my story of coming to assurance, I also think of that silly old joke about the married couple trying to go to sleep one night. The man tossed and turned, so much that his wife finally asked him what was bothering him. He said, "I borrowed money from McGee next door. I'm supposed to pay him back tomorrow, and I don't have it." The wife got up, opened the window, and shouted, "Hey, McGee! My husband can't pay you the money he owes you!" She got back into bed and said,, "There. Now go to sleep and let him worry for a while." That's one more lovely thing about God: we owe him everything and He already knows we can't pay Him back. We can let him worry about that, too!
Incidentally, if you’re wondering about the man who needed assurance, his story has a happy ending – at least by eternal standards. At his funeral yesterday, one of his friends told how he had been with him in the hospital when he committed his life to Jesus. We had been praying for his assurance, and through that reassuring story, his assurance became our assurance: God does answer prayer, and it’s never too late to pray for redemption.
