My Spiritual Journey - Part 1: Born Again…Then Again?
Every journey has a beginning. This is mine.
The following is an adaptation of my story, Growing Up Baptist: Born Again...Then Again? published 2/24/2024 in The Dove on Medium.
The first thing I list in my profile bio is not-your-average Jesus follower.
What do I mean by that, and more importantly, how did I become one?
Contrary to what some think, it didn't happen when I prayed a prayer — although, as you're about to read, I did that.
It also didn’t happen when I was baptized in water or even when God dramatically doused me with His Holy Spirit when I was 12.
It happened over several years and includes:
walking away from God and "all things church" in frustration as a teenager
returning to Him in my early 20s after living in misery for five years
experiencing a move of God in a singles class of a large Baptist church that sealed the deal and changed me forever.
If you’re used to reading testimonies of Christians that fit neatly within a traditional evangelical doctrinal box, then you might need to brace yourself. Because some of my story messes that up big time!
I’ve never been very good at staying within the lines.
And God, who insists on sovereignly injecting Himself into our lives in unexpected ways, has a habit of regularly blowing those boxes into smithereens.
Introducing my new series
Early last year, I wrote and published this — part 1 of the 4-part series — under the title Growing Up Baptist on Medium.
But because I want to extend my story beyond my Baptist days (and because some people, seeing Baptist in a title, wouldn't ever consider opening it, let alone read it), I've decided instead to call the series My Spiritual Journey. And that's exactly what it is: a journey with more twists than Chubby Checker! (Okay, I just dated myself! 😀)
Do you love God but have issues with American church culture?
Have you experienced spiritual abuse by leaders in the church?
Are you going through a time of deconstructing your faith and questioning much (or everything!) you've been taught about the Bible?
Would you like to hear how I have learned to keep company with Jesus outside the building and the institutional religious complex?
Then, keep reading because this series is especially for you!
Welcome to part 1 of my spiritual journey.
My Baptist roots run deep and wide
My spiritual journey began in a little Baptist church in a rural farming community of less than 100 people. We were dairy farmers like many in Erath County, Texas, in the '60s and '70s.
My family went to the First Baptist Church—and when I say family, I mean all of us. My paternal grandfather was ordained as a deacon there in 1935. Mom and Dad were married there twenty years later. My grandmother (whom we all called Granny) led the singing there. My dad played the piano, and my Mom sang in the choir there. Heck, many of my cousins who also lived in Erath County went there—and some still do!
Only a few yards away from the church was an old tabernacle. The last time I was there, in 2015, it had all but fallen down.
The community used it each year for the annual homecoming.
The church used it for ice cream or watermelon socials, potlucks, and vacation Bible school.
But what I most remember about that old tabernacle were the weeklong evangelistic revival services our church held there each summer. Why, amid sometimes 100+ degree temperatures where all we could use to cool ourselves were handheld fans? I don’t know, other than it’s just what we did.
Traditions ran deep in that Baptist church and community — some good, some not so good. But more about those later in my story.
The gospel bore fruit in my 8-year-old life
...this gospel is bearing fruit and growing...from the first day you heard it and understood the grace of God in truth. (Colossians 1:6, NET)
There’s never been a moment in my life when I did not know about Jesus.
As a child, my understanding of Him was simple and free of questions that many in our world struggle with today. What a blessing to have that as my starting point. While some might call that indoctrination, I call it being grounded in the Truth.
Parents, teach your children about Jesus!
I grew up knowing
He loves me.
He died on the cross to pay for my sins.
He rose from the dead on the 3rd day and will one day return to earth.
And until then, He wants us to pray, read our Bibles, go to church, be a good person, and love others.
That was it — the totality of my theology as an 8-year-old.
But it was enough.
And on July 31, 1966, while sitting on an old quilt spread out over an old wooden pew (to save our behinds from splinters), listening to a visiting evangelist from Arkansas, I felt the conviction of the Holy Spirit.
I can remember the moment like it was yesterday. Suddenly, after hearing hundreds of sermons and Bible stories almost every week of my life, it became real to me. My spiritual eyes opened, and understanding came that I — Sharon — needed to ask Jesus to forgive me for my sins and save me.
I hesitated briefly at the thought of stepping out in front of all those people. But I knew what I needed to do, and with a solemn determination, I walked to the front where the pastor stood.
With tears sliding down my face, I took my pastor’s hand and followed him in voicing a simple prayer, asking Jesus to forgive me, come into my heart, and be my Savior.
For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. (Rom 10:13 NET)
It was now official. I was a born-again Christian. A few days later, I was baptized in a local farmer’s cow pond along with four others who were saved during that revival.
Then, four years later, THIS happened
After my baptism, life continued as before. I went to school, played basketball, rode motorcycles, worked in our dairy, took piano lessons, and even started playing the organ at church on Sundays when I was 10.
Then, one night in the summer of 1970, my normal changed forever.
After eating out with my parents and their friends at Jake and Dorothy’s Cafe in Stephenville, we went to a summer revival at their church and, like all good Baptists, found seats near the back.
It was a typical service. We sang a few hymns, someone prayed, and then the visiting evangelist preached.
Nothing he said was new to me.
But for some strange reason, I was dialed in. My mind wasn’t wandering in boredom. Instead, I was tracking with every verse he quoted and every point he made.
At the end, when he gave the altar call, he asked us to stand and pray — on our own, in our hearts. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was something like, “Lord, I want all You’ve got.”
Suddenly, it was as if the top of my head opened, and all of Heaven jumped inside me in one fiery swoop.
I immediately erupted into tears of joy and, quite beside myself, shoved everyone aside as I made my way to the end of the pew and ran down the aisle to the front. Grabbing the pastor’s hand, I shook it up and down wildly while practically shouting, “I just got saved! I just got saved!”
My life was dramatically different from that moment on. The Bible came alive, and I had an insatiable hunger for the things of God. I prayed incessantly and with confidence engendered by my new awareness that God wasn’t just out there somewhere; He was living inside me.
What? Saved again?
Nope. Being born again and then born again again isn’t even remotely supported by the Scriptures. As we say in Texas, sorry, but that dog won’t hunt!
This only leaves two options:
I was born again and filled with His Holy Spirit at 12, but not at 8.
I was born again at 8 and baptized with the Holy Spirit when I was 12.
Even though I wouldn’t come to understand this for another eleven years, I believe the answer is #2, and here’s why.
When I was 8,
I was convicted by the Holy Spirit and felt a godly sorrow for my sins.
I was repentant and aware that I needed Jesus.
I asked Him to save me (and He did!).
Contrast that with what happened when I was 12:
I prayed to the Lord in a way that indicated I was already in a relationship with Him.
I felt overwhelming joy.
His presence was like liquid love pouring all through me.
The two experiences were distinctly different.
So why did I think and say I had just been saved?
Here’s why: I had never been taught anything about the Holy Spirit other than He existed as the third member of the Trinity. I had read verses — like Acts 1:5, which says, “For John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit…” — but I didn’t know what being baptized with the Holy Spirit meant.
So, when this life-changing event happened, and with it the greatest revelation of Jesus I had ever known, my Baptist thinking limited me to I must have just gotten saved. I mean, what else could it be?
Click below to continue with Part 2:
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Thanks for reading part 1 of my story. Have you ever experienced a life-changing moment like this? Do you have questions? Comments? I’d love to hear from you.
I absolutely love the conviction of your story… and how cool is it that you have a photograph with the evangelist from all those years ago. Can’t wait to read more. You’re a wonderful writer, Sharon!
I love hearing others' stories. All so different; each a masterpiece--a testimony of how God sees and knows and loves each tiny seed He plants in a mother's womb. What fun He must have as He makes His plans; what joy He must have when we agree. So glad you did, Sharon!