Nestled in the pew as the closing hymn commenced, I was startled when my Mom tapped my shoulder. “I want to go pray at the altar,” she whispered into my ear. “Will you go with me?”
I nodded approvingly and walked with her to the front of the large sanctuary. It was Sunday, May 29 1994—the day before Memorial Day. I had been praying for my Mom’s eternal salvation for 18 months. When I first informed my parents that I had surrendered my life to Christ on September 20, 1992 during my first semester in college, they were alarmed.
“Is our son in a cult?” they wondered.
Yet time proved that a transformation from above had indeed transpired. Their son’s life was radically changed by a resurrected Christ.
Mom took note. From the beginning I prayed diligently for my whole family to come to know the Lord.
As we knelt together at the altar in St. Thomas United Methodist Church in Manassas, I could sense something weighing on her heart. It was a moment forever etched in my mind and heart.
Mom simply bowed her head, for she had already bowed her heart to the Lordship of Jesus Christ just moments before. In simplicity of faith, she surrendered her life completely to Christ Jesus. She asked for Him to have His way in her life from that day forth.
There was no fanfare at the altar. No fireworks. Most of those in attendance probably didn’t realize what had transpired at the altar on humble, but hungry knees: “For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves” (Colossians 1:13).
Yet those with eyes to see and ears to hear caught a glimpse of a celebration of Heavenly origin: “there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:10).
Happy Rebirth Day Mom!
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