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I have had the opportunity of being raised in a home where my parents were both Christians. When I was six years old, in the middle of kindergarten, a friend of mine who was in my class was killed in a car accident. I can remember my mother calling me downstairs and sitting on the couch with tears in her eyes. She told me that my friend was in the back seat of a car and was lying down without his seat belt. The driver of the car came to a quick stop, and he was thrown from the vehicle. Though he was rushed to the emergency room by helicopter, there was nothing that could be done. It was then at the age of six that death became a reality. I may not have understood all of it, but I did understand that my friend never returned to our kindergarten room that year, and I would never see him again.
One Sunday morning, in my Sunday school class, the teacher began to tell us all about Jesus, how He is the Son of God and that He came to earth and died on the cross for the bad things that I did against my parents, friends and especially against God. I was surprised to hear that someone would voluntarily give His life for my sake. As the teacher continued, she told us that Jesus did not stay dead, but that He was buried and rose from the dead three days later. She explained that He loves us and wants us to ask Him to forgive our sins (the things we do which God disapproves of) so that we could go to heaven. She told us that all we needed to do was to pray and ask Jesus to forgive us. That night, Easter Sunday, I asked Jesus to forgive me for all the sins that I had done. I hope that those of you reading this have trusted Christ as your personal Lord and Savior. If you do not know what that means, or desire for any reason to speak with someone about where you will spend eternity, please feel free to contact me.
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