The day that changed my whole life

 I stand amazed in the presence of  Jesus the Nazarene, 
 and wonder how He could love me, 
 a sinner, condemned, unclean. 

Jesus stepped into my family’s world when I was only 4 years old. It was June 2, 1967, while walking along a river in beautiful Virginia that my Daddy called out to Jesus to save his soul. God started something that day that would greatly impact my life to this day.

Soon after getting saved, Daddy moved our family to Ohio, to be near his sister who was also a Christian and had been praying for years for his salvation. We began attending a gospel-preaching church, and as a young girl, I heard that old, old story of how Jesus was sent to the earth as a babe for one purpose only – to suffer and die on the cross and shed His blood to cover the sins of the whole world. The only thing I needed to do was to believe that He did it for me…Mitzi Ann Collins…and receive Him as my only way to have eternal life in heaven.

All through those growing-up years, Daddy took us to gospel-preaching churches where we heard God’s Word being preached, and we heard it read in family devotions at home. I believe it was because of that, that I had a tender heart towards God and His Word (Daddy made such a big deal out of it, so it was a big deal to me).

Though I prayed many times and told Jesus that I wanted to go to heaven when I died, I somehow missed something. All I knew was, as I got older and though I still had a tender heart towards God, I knew (I KNEW in my heart) that I was missing something…I just didn’t know what that something was.

On a couple of occasions, as a young adult, I was asked to give my testimony and it never alarmed me that all it consisted of was all the “good” things I had done… it would go something like this:

“I prayed for Jesus to come into my heart. I grew up in a Christian home. I attended a Christian school from 7-12 grades. I was a good girl & tried to obey my parents. I read my Bible. I prayed. I helped at a Christian camp in Ohio. I worked at a Christian camp in Canada for two different summers. I went to Bible school, where I met and married my husband Joe. Within a short time, Joe was called to preach and to go to Canada as a missionary, so I had another “badge” to pin to my “Christian” vest – now I was a missionary’s wife!“

[Did you notice something there? The word “I” sure shows up a whole lot! and really…no God or Jesus did. Hmmm…]

I had alllll that “goodness” but I was missing one very, very important thing: I had no peace in my heart. No peace but so much fear. There were times in our tiny two-bedroom apartment, that it would get unusually quiet. (Now, that never happens when you have two little ones 2-1/2 & a 1-year-old…unless they are up to no good!). Fear would course through my body and I would almost be too afraid to go and check if the girls were still there. “Had the rapture happened and Jesus took the girls and I was left behind?!” No, they were playing quietly in their bedroom. Whew.

Through those first few years of marriage I would talk to Joe about my doubts and fears, whether I was really saved or not. If I was, then why did I doubt so much and have so much fear in my heart? Thankfully he never tried to reassure me; to remind me that I had prayed as a little girl and I was ok.

April of 1988 our family was in Pennsylvania for several weeks, as we awaited the arrival of our third baby. (Benjamin would be our first of 4 babies delivered by Amish midwives, Beth and Molly. Sweet sweet memories).

During our time there, the Lord spoke directly to my husband’s heart in a church service and gave him an urgency to fast and pray for me about the unrest in my soul. I will forever be grateful that he listened and obeyed! Joe fasted and prayed a whole week for me, but it wasn’t until September that he saw the Lord answer those prayers.

Back home in Georgia with our new baby, I remember getting a phone call that really threw me for a loop. A dear friend called to let me know that she had just gotten saved. Well, that’s all fine and good, but this friend of mine had already said she was saved. I mean, she sang specials in church all the time and kept missionaries in her home. She attended church every time the doors were open and it was this friend that let our family stay in their home for weeks while waiting for our son to be born. She was the epitome of “Christian” if I ever saw one!

Obviously, the Lord had shown her that she (like I was soon to learn about myself) wasn’t a Christian because of all the good things she had done and was doing. She realized that she hadn’t truly called on Jesus, God’s perfect Son, and hadn’t trusted Him and Him only (and not her good works), to save her and give her peace.

That night I remember sitting on our bed and talking to Joe. I remember telling him that “I knew that I knew that I KNEW I was saved…but why didn’t I have any peace in my heart?!” I don’t remember what he said, or how we ended that conversation, but I do remember the next morning very clearly. With the unrest still in my heart, I took the little New Testament that I kept by our bed and I knelt beside the bed and prayed, “Lord, I don’t know if I am saved or lost. Would you please show me?”

What happened next changed my whole life.

God in His great mercy, led me straight to Ephesians 2:8,9 –

 For by grace are ye saved through faith;
  and that not of yourselves:  it is the gift of God: 
 Not of works, lest any man should boast. 

That morning, those verses had a whole new meaning to me. I had read them many times before (I had it memorized, for goodness sake!). But the phrase that jumped off the page at me was, “and that not of yourselves…not of works, lest any man should boast.”

 (Go back and read my "testimony."  yeah.  
There is a great big problem here.)

The minute I read those two verses, I knew – I KNEW – that I wasn’t truly saved. Yet, even though I knew, I prayed again and asked the Lord to show me one more verse…and He turned me just a few pages over to 2 Corinthians 11:13, 14 –

 For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, 
 transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ.
  And no marvel; for Satan himself 
 is transformed into an angel of light. 

Clearly, the Lord showed me that if Satan -the father of lies & darkness – can be transformed into an angel of light, I can live like and look like a Christian all those years. I cried out to Jesus that morning, September 22, 1988, and He saved me!! At that moment I went from being a sinner, condemned, unclean, to a blood-bought child of God. Not only that (and that would be enough, amen?!!) God filled my heart with a peace that I had never had before! He moved into my whole being and has been there ever since!

Then all my troubles disappeared like a fine mist and we lived happily ever after…well, not exactly. Not quite two months later I was holding our 7-month-old baby boy in my arms as Joe rushed us to the hospital (a bowel blockage, we would soon learn). I bowed my head over Benjamin’s weak, dehydrated little body and told the Lord if He had to take him Home that was ok. But God had other plans that day and a few more years that He wanted to show Himself strong in that little boy’s life…and in our hearts and lives, too.

God has never, ever made me walk a day alone. Through the sunshine and the rain, He has been by my side. I may not have always “felt” Him there, but remember Ole Smutty Face, the devil? The father of lies? He wants me to think my Heavenly Father has left me, turned His back on me; but that will never ever happen. Ever. God’s peace and presence continue to be with me, all these years later. (And so does OSF’s lies…but that is another post for another time.)

PS: Please contact me if you have any questions about my blog post today. I would love to give you more information or answer any questions you may have. God bless!