Remembering God's Mercy

        “I remember the first time he reached down to me

At a little, white church house down an old, worn-out street.

I remember the feeling I felt on that night,

And I’ll never give up his hand on my life.”

 These words have so much meaning to me. Two of the young men at our church, Jacob and Andrew, sing “The Touch” regularly. As I listen to the words, tears well up in my eyes. I’m brought back to the time when Jesus came into my soul.

 My dad is a preacher, and he had been asked to preach at a revival when I was 7 years old. I had gone every night, and early in the week, I had felt God speak to me. It was a feeling like I had never felt before. There was a sudden terror for my life. I had no idea what I needed to do, so I sat there, scared for my life. As the week progressed, I remember the preachers both speaking of Heaven and how one could only go there through accepting Jesus Christ as his/her personal Lord and Savior. God continued to speak to my soul as those nights passed one by one. It was then Saturday night, and I could still feel that same terror as I had earlier in the week. God once again spoke to my heart, and I finally went to the altar and accepted him as my Savior. I remember the relief that I felt. A sudden peace overcame me at that little white church in the middle of nowhere. God found me where I was, and I can’t help but praise his name ever since that day. Of course I will slip up from time-to-time. I don’t claim to be perfect, but I’m glad that I know that I will have my blessed Savior always there to forgive me for my wrongs. I’ll live my life to honor and glorify him until the day that I die.

         - Daniel, 19 years old