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My love for Jesus came at an early age; when our mom would take us to Sunday school in the big city of St. Louis. As the family grew; my dad moved us to a small town of 800, south of St. Louis; while he remained in the big city to work, but came home on weekends to see us. We were there 4 years. My mother had a baby every other year; ending in 8. She was always tired, [I wondered why?] and chose to stay home with the babies, while my siblings and I went to Sunday school. A car was sent every Sunday to our house to pick us up for Sunday School and bring us back afterward; therefore, I was not exposed to the gospel of Jesus Christ; the deity; Father, Son and Holy Spirit, until I was older. I give credit to the one who saw to it that we were at church every Sunday morning, and her name is Mother.
After marrying, and having 2 of my 3 children, a minister of a church my girls and I attended, came to visit us in our home. My husband happened to be home that evening. The minister asked us if we knew what being a Christian was, he got an immediate answer from my husband," I believe if you are good, kind, work hard and love your family, that's good enough." Somehow, I knew from being in Sunday School, all those years, there had to be more; Jesus just had to be a part of it, but I wasn't sure why or how. The pastor read scripture and prayed, then left. He had planted a seed and I was eager to hear more.
I then changed churches, where I started learning and growing in His word, because of being exposed to wonderful teachers there. It was at that time I started watching the Billy Graham crusades, where I was exposed to the gospel and took it all in, for the first time. Sitting on my sofa, while watching the crusade one evening I accepted Jesus, but wondered what else I had to do.
Shortly after that decision, having told no one, the crusade came to our city and I attended with my church and at the end of the service I went forward to publicly acknowledge my faith in Jesus Christ; admitted I was a sinner, acknowledged that He had actually died for me. I was relieved to see that the man that prayed with me was my husband's barber and silently wishing he could have been there to witness what was happening; but leaving elated that I had made the most important decision of my life.
But, as I was growing in my faith, I had a big empty place in my heart for the one God had joined to me; my husband. On Sundays; where pews were filled with COMPLETE families, I would weep silently for the
Betty's Christian Testimony