…that if you confess with your mouth the Lord JESUS and believe in your heart that GOD raised HIM from the dead, you will be saved. Romans 10:9
A few days later, Julia managed to rise from the bed to a seated position. Alone in the room, she attempted to come down since, while she slept, the pharmacist who checked on her daily and treated her wound had changed her bandage to a smaller one. A pair of crutches leaning against the bed heightened her excitement.
She gripped both sides of the bed and pushed off without considering that, while she had one good leg, that leg had not had weight on it for a while. As she put her whole body weight on it, pain shot up her knee, and she screamed. Someone ran into the room and breached her fall, lowering her back onto the bed.
“Goodness, Julia. Do you want to have two broken legs? You shouldn’t get off the bed yet. It’s too soon. Give it time.”
“It’s been nearly one week. That should be enough time.” She groaned, allowing Bishop to sweep her feet back onto the bed. He’d snuck into her room the previous night and sat watching her. She then heard him praying, and some of the things he said broke her heart. She’d pretended to be asleep but could hardly help a tear rolling down her cheek. How could someone only a bit younger than her go through so much? Once more, she appreciated having her mom in her life. If there was anything she wanted more than anything else, it was to make her mom know she was alive and safe. How could she send that message without putting her mom and uncle in danger?
She’d prayed about it—one of her first prayers since her rescue. She still wasn’t sure what her relationship with God was. She had called on Him, and He’d rescued her. But she was still ruminating on the entire experience.
Was she now a Christian?
Bishop spread a blanket over her, and a smile curved his face. “I’m sorry, but I can hardly imagine myself being stuck to a bed. I’d probably be more impatient than you. Mrs. Black said you’re healing well. That’s why she bought the crutches. For when you can stand, you can at least get to the window.”
“Are you enjoying my torture?” She hissed aloud as his mischievous smile riled her.
“A little.” He laughed. “But, seriously, you went through a lot. Maybe if you want to get more room for movement, you can start by telling us about yourself beyond your first name.”
She turned away as he settled himself into the chair every person in this place had occupied at some point. Mrs. Black had apparently co-opted everyone at the center to babysit her. They took turns, and whenever she was awake, she listened as they talked. Sometimes, she’d respond. Other times, she’d simply listen as they aired their views and, occasionally, prayed for her. What surprised her was how easily they’d stop in the middle of a conversation to pray, then continue like it was normal.
Was speaking with God that normal? Like a conversation? Granted, she’d gone with her mom to church some time ago. But, well, everything there was scheduled, and things were done according to schedule. The prayer meetings were rowdier, and the worship sessions were even more freestyle. But she didn’t let any of that sink into her. She’d been an observer. Now, having seen Jesus, having heard these people pray, and having stayed long enough with Christians—more closely than she’d allowed her mom—Julia saw the Christian walk differently. It was…personal.
The girl, Susie, prayed differently, worshiping more than she spoke in words in prayer. Bishop was more contemplative, almost as though he was new to it but was also enjoying it. Henry sang hymns and seemed to flow with the spirit of the hymn. Abel loved to pick up the Bible and explore Scripture, sharing stuff he found amazing, and his wonder rubbed off on her.
“Bishop, do you have a Bible lying around? I need one.” She wanted to read it for herself, if only to check out some of the stuff Abel had said. Seeing those words for herself, knowing the Speaker personally, would drive things home. It amazed her that, even though she’d seen the Lord, she wanted to know about Him, get to know Him intimately, study the Words He’d written and spoken, and grow closer to Him. Serious hunger for knowing the God she’d despised all her life but Who’d saved her in her moment of distress brought her to a place of focus.
Julia knew what she wanted—Who she wanted—and it was Jesus. Did she have Him already since her mom was a Christian? Was her experience of Him in captivity enough to identify herself with Him?
Hands on his knees, Bishop eyed her. “Well, I didn’t see that one coming. Mrs. Black gave away a good number of them, but she’d have some in the common room. Let me check. I’ll be right back.” He pressed his hands against his knees as though using them to push himself up from the chair, stood, then stopped by the door, his voice going down to a whisper. “Oh, we’re baking secret chocolate chip cookies when Mrs. Black goes out for groceries. Are you in? Or will you rat us out?”
Julia laughed, then saw he was serious. “I’m in for cookies anytime.” She grinned at him, then narrowed her eyes into her sternest expression. “I will tell her what we did after eating it though.”
“Suit yourself.” He winked. “They’ll be chilling in my tummy by then.”
She was still smiling when Bishop returned and surrendered the Bible to her lampstand. “Here it is. Mrs. Black has a rule.”
Julia turned her head in his direction. “What is that?”
“Each one, teach one.”
“What?”
“When you learn something new in the Bible, you teach someone in the house, even if it’s one person. You must share it.”
“Oh.” She sucked in her lower lip. “I don’t know anything, so I can’t communicate what I don’t know yet. But I’ll keep that in mind for later.”
“Tuck it in your mental library.” He grinned and began walking out. “Abel and Susie have started greasing the baking sheet, and they want me to help.”
“One question, how do you know you’re a Christian?”
He returned and sank into the chair. “What do you mean?”
“I–I had an experience with God. And my mom is a Christian. I was also attending church when I was younger. But I’m not sure if these are enough to make me a Christian. Is there a way to be sure? I can ask Mrs. Black, but—”
“I can answer because I just became a Christian the day you came.”
She felt her eyes roll. “Really? I suspected it was new to you, but you sound like you’ve been a Christian way longer than mere days.”
“That might be because I’ve listened to Mrs. Black long enough.” A deep laugh—that sounded more like a man’s—rumbled from his chest. “You will hear Scripture often if you hang around her.”
“I know. I’m surprised to see you all are Christians.”
He paused almost long enough that she thought he didn’t hear her. He gripped his knees with his fists again, then wiped his palms against his thighs like he was wiping away moisture. “Jesus solves problems. I have a lot of them, and so do the others. He gave me a new beginning, and He saved me from the effects of the place I came from.” His voice lowered, and his throat bobbed. “I had it rough.” He closed his eyes, the memories contorting his face. “Becoming a Christian was a natural choice. I already feel like I can see the new future God has for me. Anger is still a bad habit I need to grow from.” He shrugged, the tension loosening from his jaw and the pinched tightness leaving his brow. “But, by God’s grace, I’m making progress.”
“Wow.” Julia blinked when she realized she was staring. Bishop appeared to be more the macho kind, showing few emotions since her time here. This had to be deep and real for him to show such emotion. “Thank you for sharing that.”
“I do have an answer for your question.” He cleared his throat. “There is a way to be sure you are a Christian. It’s not something to be taken lightly.”
Her heart started beating—fast. “Alright. What is it?”
“You accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior. You know like you can’t assume you’re married. You really have to stand before God and people—or the law—to say you marry that person?”
“Yes?”
He gave an emphatic nod. “It’s the same here. You declare your faith in Jesus in words by yourself. Then you are sure you are a Christian since you can point to that declaration as proof. I did that a few days ago and certainly know it has changed me.” He drummed his hands on his thighs, then rubbed his hands together, and his eyes sparkled. “If you want to make your declaration for Jesus public, I can lead you. I prayed it a few days ago, and the words are still fresh in my mind.” He inched to the edge of his chair and extended his hands to her, his eyes aglow. “Julia, do you choose to accept the Lord Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior?”
Julia considered his words. Was she ready to receive Jesus—the Man with hair so brilliant, eyes so kind, smile so real, and power so great—Who had stepped between her and certain death only a few days ago and hadn’t asked for her commitment before saving her, or even after?
Her heart jolted with gratitude, certainty, and love. Yes! Jesus was for her. A chance to grow closer to Him was precious, not to be missed. She grasped Bishop’s closest hand since she couldn’t turn without pain. “Yes, I want to. I know Him. I choose Him. And, by Him, I mean Jesus Christ. Lead me to Him, Bishop.” Her nerves stood on edge. Her toes tingled. Her heart bubbled. She’d replayed His appearance to her so many times in her mind, wanting Him to stay and wanting to go with Him and yet remembering her mom. She’d been sure, surer than she’d ever been, that Jesus loved her. Then she recalled His command—Run. How that saved her life!
“Bow your head, please.”
She did as Bishop asked. She could feel his excitement as he squeezed her hand. A new Christian leading her to the One he’d found. The One who didn’t fail. Who wouldn’t fail her.
“Please repeat these words after me: Dear Heavenly Father, I come to You in the name of Jesus. I know that I’m a sinner and have come short of Your glory. I believe that You sent Jesus to the world and that He died to pay the price for my sins. And that Jesus rose again on the third day. Today, I confess You, Jesus, as my personal Lord and Savior. I accept Your Lordship over my life. Today, I am born again. I invite God the Holy Spirit into my life. Please write my name in the Book of Life and please remove my name from the Book of Death. Thank You, God, for saving me in Jesus’ mighty name, amen.”
Julia had not finished speaking the prayer when something like a spark lit up deep within her. She couldn’t put a name on it, but she felt it, let go of Bishop’s hand, and gripped the side of the bed. She finished the prayer of salvation, and when she opened her eyes, both her eyes and Bishop’s were wet. “We did it.”
“Did what?” Mrs. Black strode in. “Did you two join the gang-up to make chocolate chip cookies, eh?”
Bishop’s smile stretched wider than she’d ever seen it, crinkling up his tanned cheeks. “No, ma’am. I mean, yes, ma’am.”
She eyed them both. “Well, which one is it? Yes or no?” She pinned Julia with a gaze. “And you don’t cover up for him, you hear?”
“This is so much better than secret foods and chocolate chip cookies. And, yes, we did bake secret cookies, sorry.”
Mrs. Black seemed to get the message and drew closer. Her lips twitched into her contagious smile, and her eyes twinkled as she wagged a finger. “Tell me.”
Julia watched as Bishop yielded the chair to Mrs. Black, and she settled into it with a groan. “My knees remind me I’m getting old. You both tell me something worth the creaking in my knees.”
Bishop slid his hands into his pocket. “Julia just received Jesus as her personal Lord and Savior.” He waited for that to sink in. “I led her in the salvation prayer, the same prayer you led me with a few days ago.”
Julia expected Mrs. Black to smile or, at most, laugh. She did none of that.
After eyeing each of them, she rose, walked to the door, and closed it. Then she returned to the chair but didn’t sit. Tears sheened her eyes. “Julia, sweetie, you accepted Jesus?” She pressed a hand to her chest in such a way Julia thought she might faint.
She nodded quickly, if that helped.
Mrs. Black went down on her knees, then bowed her head to the ground, weeping. She sobbed aloud. “Sweet Jesus, thank You! Thank You! Thank You, my Savior. You’re so good.”
Not sure what to do, Julia echoed her words. Was she this grateful over somebody else’s salvation? Was Julia’s commitment to Jesus celebration-worthy? Did it mean so much to this woman who had become a mother to her in the absence of her own mom? Julia wished to wrap her arms around Mrs. Black as love for the woman filled her soul. She knew then that Mrs. Black would forever live in her heart in a treasured way.
Bishop, seeming to sense Julia’s intent, went on his knees and side-hugged Mrs. Black. The three of them held a sacred moment of gratitude to God, thanking God and celebrating Julia’s new life in Christ.
Julia held back tears, eager to learn, to understand, and to know the Man and the God—Jesus Christ.
When Mrs. Black got up, she sank into the chair, but no sooner had she sat than the fire alarm went off. “Those kids will not give me a heart attack.”
Bishop whistled low. “They’ve burned the cookies. They both can’t cook!” He sighed. “So much for our secret food.” With that, he raced out of the room with Mrs. Black trailing, leaving Julia to bask in her new choice as a Christian. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.