for all those who cheat at candyland...

I have always possessed a paralyzing fear of hell. In fact, one of the main things that first drove me to the arms of my Savior was a fear of hell.

At the age of four I thought I was more or less perfect, but my mom explained to me that hitting my brother and lying to my dad about finishing my dinner were not exactly angelic traits. Without Jesus' sacrifice I was on the fast track to eternal damnation.

I joyfully accepted Jesus' offer of salvation. Unfortunately, while I would like to say it was all smooth sailing from there, it wasn't.

I still messed up. At 6 I cheated in Candyland with my brother, slyly slipping Queen Frostine underneath the first card in the deck, then magnanimously I allowed Isaac to go first. I was grounded at 7. I continued to be an occasional liar, just enough to keep up an appearance of innocence. I generally didn't get into trouble, so don't worry, I will not turn this post into a confessional booth.

Even though I appeared good, and generally made the right choices... I knew that even with Jesus, parts of my heart were still tainted. Because I knew my darkness, I doubted that I was saved.

I cannot count how many times I sat and listened to a preacher give an invitation, and sadly wondered if I really had received the "gift." I said the prayer again... and again.... and again.

"Lord Jesus, thank you for dying on the cross... I accept your free gift of salvation... please forgive me for the sins I have committed..."

I began to think strange and horrible things. Maybe I was damned, maybe I had unwittingly committed the unpardonable sin. Maybe I was not chosen... maybe I was not predestined.

I started to fear the demonic... I imagined they were exercising some sort of power over me that was keeping me from God. I figured I was probably not worthy of Christ, and He would rather not have me.

I'd lie awake in my bed at night, gripped by fear, almost physically pained... assuming that hell was my future, and Jesus was my past.

I struggled with this for years, all the while attending youth group and church, even serving others in ministry. But I was cracking, and my mom knew it.

One day, exasperated, she showed me Psalm 139. She read it out loud to me, and one verse in particular jumped out at me, it burned in my mind. "You hem me in, behind and before, and lay Your hand upon me." (Psalm 139:5) This verse seems simplistic, but the thought of God having His hand upon, that extremely personal picture, brought me to tears. I wept before the presence of God, the Father who loves me, and realized that He desired me... and He was not going to allow anything to separate me from Himself.

From that point on, I began to rehabilitate. I started believing the promises of Scripture again.

"My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of My Father's hand. I and the Father are one." John 10:27-30

I was in Jesus' hands, and the Father had His hand upon me. I stopped kidding myself into believing that somehow I had to be good enough, or that I was going to hold on long enough.

The Father desires that none should perish, but that all should come to repentance. He was calling me to Himself, but I allowed the fears of this world and the next to crowd Him out, I put my emphasis in the wrong place, and almost lost the faith I wanted so badly.

Some of you may also struggle with whether or not you are "saved" or question the legitimacy of your born again experience. My pastor said once that the fact that you care and worry about such questions is a sign, a sign of the hand of God on your life. God's hand on your head.

He wants you... do you trust Him?

"Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it." Psalm 139:6