Saved

A few months ago someone asked me if I remember the day I was saved.
I was embarrassed to say "uh, no, I can't recall".
(I went to an A/G church after all.  I think I was "saved" every summer!)
He proceeded to tell me the day and the hour that he was saved.
I'm not sure if he looked down on me for not knowing, or if I was judging myself but what ever it was, I felt uneasy.
I thought long and hard.  When was I saved?  I couldn't pick a month or even a year.  I can't even remember when I was baptized.   I know I was wearing denim overalls, so it had to have been the late '80s.  But a date?  No way.  A salvation date?  Absolutely not.
Matt's friend Jeff shared Christ and a Ding Dong with him during his Sophomore year of high school.  Right there in the lunch room, Jeff shared his Ding Dong like Jesus multiplied the fish and loaves and then proceeded to introduce Matt to his Lord and Savior.  I'm so thankful for Jeff and that Ding Dong.
What is my story?
I was a little bummed.  I don't have a tent meeting or ding dong story.  I don't have a salvation story to tell.
This past weekend I was talking with one of my cousins who brought up a very good point regarding salvation.  If you are raised in a Christian home and living as God has called us to live is your "norm", then what is your "decision"?  If you have always followed, when do you "decide" to follow?  Or at that point does it become the opposite?  When you are raised in a Christian home and believe what is  taught and lived out, then doesn't it follow that your only decision would be to not follow Christ?  The norm is Christ, there is nothing to turn away from, only to continue to live out.
As a raised-in-a-Christian-home type, faith is all I ever knew.  It didn't even strike me as an option to believe in anything other than Christ.  I had nothing to turn away from.  I do know that there was a time when my faith really became my own.  At some point I really started to trust that following God would be the best option for me but I can't pin down a date for that either.
It's like the rhetorical question old people always ask "how'd you get to be so tall?"  Uh... I grew a little each day until magically I am now 5'10".
I find myself frustrated with this concept of "being saved" and hammering out that story.  Some people totally have that story.  Not me.
When was I saved?
I remember it like it was yesterday.  It was on a hill called Golgotha, I don't know the date, but it was some time after 3 in the afternoon.
"Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him and afflicted.  But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities, the punishment that brought us peace was upon him and by his wounds we are healed." Isaiah 53:4-5
It turns out, my salvation story is not about the day I was saved about the One who saved me.

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