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My Testimony (2)

As I said in my previous post, that week was hellish. Perhaps surprisingly, In a strange, rather nervous way, I was eager to go to church the following Sunday evening. In my heart of hearts, I knew now, whatever I thought logic and science had been telling me previously, that God was real, and that somehow I had to sort out the mess which was my life. I also knew, instinctively, that trying to hide was hopeless - in a sense, I had no choice but to go back to church and 'face the music' - however uncomfortable that turned out to be.

I can remember nothing at all about the service, until the end of the sermon. The Pastor made another 'altar-call' (they were frequent, but by no means every week) - I'm sure he had a fairly shrewd idea what was happening to me - my face, the previous week, must have been a picture and, though I can remember nothing about the week now other than my terror, my conversations with Isobel must have been 'interesting'. I was out of my seat almost before he spoke the invitation, and committed myself to God at that point, confessing my sins and begging forgiveness in Jesus' name. And I knew, there and then, that I was forgiven. As Jesus said:

Copyright Phil Hendry, 2016