There are moments in life when everything shifts—when the questions we’ve carried for years finally meet their answers. For me, the decision to become a Christian wasn’t a single moment of clarity, it was not that white knuckle moment that you hear from many, but a series of quiet revelations, deep conversations, and personal struggles that led me to a place of surrender, hope, and transformation.

The Road That Led Me Here

I grew up in a religious household., although Faith was something I observed from a distance—sometimes with curiosity, sometimes with skepticism. I saw people pray, sing, and speak about God with conviction, and I often wondered: What gives them such peace? What anchors them in the storms of life?

I was born in 1957, and my parents started going to an IFB (Independent Fundamental Baptist) church the same year. This decision marked a significant turning point in our family life, as the church quickly became the cornerstone of our routine and values. From a young age, I was surrounded by the teachings and philosophies that the church espoused, which emphasized a strict interpretation of the Bible and personal integrity. So, in essence, I was raised in the church since we went every Sunday and Wednesday until I was 16 years old. These gatherings were more than just services; they were communal events where families connected, friendships were nurtured, and spiritual growth was encouraged. The rhythm of our week was structured around hymns, sermons, and fellowship, making my formative years steeped in the principles and community of our faith.

Even though I was at church every week, surrounded by familiar faces and the echo of hymns filling the air, I still felt like an outsider. The vibrant community seemed to thrive on connections that I couldn’t grasp. I would not allow myself to get close to anyone, as I did not understand the life others led, the struggles they faced, and how they could feel such deep emotions about an invisible God that you could not see or talk to face to face. It puzzled me how they found comfort in a belief that felt so distant, and while I observed their heartfelt prayers and shared laughter, a chasm of misunderstanding grew wider between us. This isolation left me questioning everything, from faith to friendship, making my weekly visits a poignant reminder of my solitude amidst the gathering.

As I grew older, life threw its share of challenges my way. Loss, disappointment, and the aching search for purpose became familiar companions in my journey. I tried to fill the void with ambition, relationships, and distractions, but nothing truly satisfied the deep yearning within my soul. I found myself going through the motions, chasing fleeting successes and superficial connections, yet each achievement felt hollow. That’s when I began to explore Christianity—not as a cultural label, but as a personal invitation to a deeper understanding of myself and the world around me. I delved into its teachings, seeking wisdom in scripture and community, hoping to discover meaning and comfort that transcended my struggles. This exploration became a pivotal point in my life, igniting a spark of hope amidst the darkness, guiding me toward a sense of belonging and purpose I had long sought.

In my first two marriages, I was immensely focused on moving up the corporate ladder, pouring my energy into work and striving for success, which often came at the cost of neglecting my personal life and inner self. During those formative years, I dedicated very little time or energy to finding my faith or exploring any spiritual beliefs that could have provided guidance and comfort. We rarely, if ever, attended church, choosing instead to prioritize career commitments, social engagements, and the relentless pursuit of material goals. Conversations about faith, God, or what we believed were almost non-existent, reflecting a deeper, unexamined void in our lives where spirituality could have flourished. It wasn’t until later that I realized how much I had overlooked the importance of nurturing my spiritual well-being, something that could have enriched both my personal journey and my relationships.

I had a good friend and his wife that talked to me regularly about their faith and my need to find my calling (get saved). I remember vividly having one discussion with them and telling them that I did not need to depend on an invisible make-believe shadow in the sky, that if I was to be anything in this world, I needed only to depend on myself. I expressed my belief that true strength comes from within and that it is only through self-reliance and determination that one can chart their own path in life. In that moment, I asserted that relying on external forces or concepts would only serve to undermine my autonomy and hinder my ability to make meaningful choices. Who better was in a position to be in control of my direction than myself, equipped with my experiences, aspirations, and the lessons I had learned along the way? As they listened intently, I articulated my vision of a life driven by personal accountability, resilience, and the pursuit of my own truth, rather than adhering to doctrines that felt distant and unrelatable.

Unfortunately, after that, we pretty much parted ways. He decided to pursue a career in the Air Force, driven by a sense of duty and a desire for adventure, while I kept plugging along my own path to my definition of success, constantly striving to achieve my goals and dreams. As time passed, we lost touch, each caught up in our own lives, and we never really reconnected until just a few years ago through the power of social media, specifically Facebook. It was a pleasant surprise to find him online, sharing snippets of his life and experiences. Although we do not hang out as frequently as we once did during our formative years, it is truly heartwarming to be able to talk with him again and witness how well his life has turned out, with all the accomplishments and challenges he has faced shaping him into the person he is today.

I spent from my twenties to my early forties plugging away at life-changing careers, navigating the complex dynamics of shifting relationships as I changed wives two more times, each transition marking a significant chapter in my emotional and personal growth. Through it all, I made choices that I believed would propel me to the next level, whether in my professional endeavors or personal life, constantly seeking fulfillment and a sense of purpose. I poured my energy into my work, sacrificing time with loved ones and leisure pursuits in pursuit of success, reaching an apex in my late thirties where I finally felt a glimpse of what I had been striving for, but also realizing that along the way, I had left behind important connections and moments that truly mattered.

Encountering Grace

Reading the Bible was like opening a window to a world I didn’t know I needed. The story of Jesus—His compassion, His sacrifice, His resurrection—wasn’t just ancient history. It felt alive. It spoke to my brokenness, my longing for forgiveness, and my desire to be known and loved unconditionally. He was not just a shadow in the sky but a true God that I could have a conversation with.

One verse in particular changed everything for me:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28

I was weary. I was burdened by the weight of expectations, responsibilities, and the endless demands of daily life. And for the first time, I believed that rest was possible—not just physical rest, but soul-deep peace that enveloped me like a warm blanket on a cold night. I envisioned a space where my thoughts could drift freely, unencumbered by the chaos that constantly surrounded me. It was a vision of tranquility, where I could pause, breathe, and simply be, embracing the silence that filled the void of my restless mind. In that moment, I grasped that true respite was not merely the absence of activity, but a profound stillness within, a rejuvenating escape into serenity that I had long denied myself.

The Decision

Becoming a Christian wasn’t about having all the answers. It was about trusting the One who does. It meant acknowledging my need for a Savior, accepting the gift of grace, and choosing to follow Jesus—not just on Sundays, but in every part of my life.

I prayed a simple prayer, asking God to forgive me, to lead me, and to make me new. And while the world around me didn’t change overnight, something inside me did. I felt lighter. I felt loved. I felt found.

What Faith Looks Like Now

Being a Christian doesn’t mean life is perfect. I still face doubts, struggles, and setbacks. But now I walk with hope. I have a community that encourages me, a purpose that drives me, and a Savior who never let’s go.

Faith is a journey, not a destination. And every day, I decide/choose to walk it—sometimes with bold steps, sometimes with trembling ones—but always with the assurance that I’m not alone.

Final Thoughts

If you’re searching, questioning, or simply curious about Christianity, know this: God isn’t waiting for you to be perfect. He’s waiting for you to come as you are. The decision to follow Christ is deeply personal, but its impact is beautifully universal—bringing light into darkness, peace into chaos, and love into every corner of your life.