I've been told that I was saved at the age of five but, needless to say, I don't really recall it. I've considered myself a Christian as far back as I can remember, and was always a part of church. Looking back from where I now stand, I wonder very much where I was spiritually then - my relationship with God seems to have been based primarily on fear. My devotional life consisted mostly of trying to catalog and repent of sins that I though God might send me to Hell for.
Aside from my stagnant spirituallity, other things were developing at the same time. I was very unpopular, particulaerly during high school. At the same time several things came together to foster in me an interest in the occult. There I thought I could find the power to repay those that had caused me so much pain. Maybe in that way I could gain the popularity and other much nastier things that I craved. Not that I ever put it into words, but vengeance was in my heart, and magic would be my weapon. I was also seeing a girl a few years younger than myself. Although we were both supposedly Christians, our relationship was not exactly spiritual in nature.
During the year following my High School graduation, for some forgotten reason I challenged my sister and girlfriend to race me in reading the entire Bible. At the same time, I would at times be going to a certain hill near my home to work on certain occult visualizations. The main point of focus in these was a sword, to possess which meant great power. It seems strange to me that this was occurring at the same time as the `Great Bible Race'.
One night during this time I had a dream. I stood on the same hillside as always, and with my sword, I fought against a host of my enemies. I would tell more of this dream, but that's all there was - just a single image, with at most a two second duration. I don't remember waking. What I remember is finding myself at my bedside, physically and spiritually throwing myself at God's feet. After a while, I went back to sleep.
In retrospect, I suppose what I saw was the futility of trying to win the struggle I had set up for myself. In pursuing the course I was on, I would have no shortage of enemies, and no matter how many I defeated, more would arise. Most frightening was the knowledge that I was making God himself my enemy.
Whatever the meaning of the dream, I became in truth a Christian that night. I devoured the Bible from that point (I won the race, my sister placed second, and the girlfriend, after a pause, crossed the finish line at last), and I began attending church services where and when I could find them. None of this was done out of fear or obligation (indeed, fear had vanished from my spiritual life), but instead out of the joy of being with my Lord.
That was twenty years ago. Life has not always been easy, and I have not grown nearly as strong as I wish had. I still struggle with anger and arrogance sometimes. I don't always know how to balance everything, and miss out on opportunities. But HE is always there, as undeniable as the air I breath - I can forget about it, but cannot do without it! I am more sure of Him than ever, and ask only that He allow me to follow Him for ever. Strengthen me and guide me, my Lord and God!
