Remembering

"Remember how the Lord your God led you all the way in the desert those forty years..." Deuteronomy 8:2

Okay, so maybe it wasn't forty years for me but for some reason as I read those words memories came flooding in. At the same time certain words jumped out at me like bold print.

"the Lord your God led you all the way"... I was seven when I accepted the Lord (that being the Christianese phrase for saying that I believe that Jesus Christ is the son of God, crucified, buried and now alive; sacrificed to cover my sins (and yours) and that I chose to submit my life to his lordship and control). It is crazy to think now about the circumstances surrounding that day. I attended a public school in an agricultural area on the California coast. On Tuesday afternoons at 1pm (funny how much I remember) children whose parents had signed a permission slip were excused from class to attend catechism held just off school grounds. In an effort to not discriminate against protestants, the protestant children went to "religious release". I know, I know - unheard of. At the time I had no idea how unusual this was. Anyway, I wanted to go and my mom signed the permission slip. So, Tuesday afternoons I and about 30 other kids would actually walk across the field and out the back gate where an adult was waiting to escort us. The Catholic kids went to a beautiful house across the gravel road and the protestant kids went into a portable trailer along the fence. The trailer was rather dark and had many rows of benches. We were given a bible lesson (I don't remember any particulars about them) and we sang songs (I can still sing most of them) and one week the lady teaching the class had us bow our heads and close our eyes. We were to raise our hands if we wanted to ask Jesus into our hearts. I raised my hand. She then told everyone who raised their hand to pray along with her and I did. I was on the shy side and I don't remember if I ever even spoke to her about it. Toward the end of the year we had an ice cream party at the pretty house with the catholic group. The following year it wasn't offered. My family didn't attend church but I can definatively say that was where my personal relationship with God began. Perhaps in my next post I'll go further into the desert.