I had known about God since I was a little girl. But He wasn't real to me. I knew the story of Jesus’ birth and the story of His death and resurrection. I had always been taught that if I believed these things were true and was a good person, then God and I were on good terms. But when the crisis came, I found myself wondering “Where is He? Does He know about me and my circumstances?” I realized I didn't know Him at all. What I learned, at the age of 41, was that knowing about God was not the same as knowing Him. I thought I was good enough for God to accept me, but He showed me, through a series of events, that I was selfish, self-centered and yes--sinful. Jesus paid the price that I could not pay. If I could clean myself up, then He suffered for nothing. Only He could bridge the gap between a holy God and unholy me. I could never be good enough to stand in God’s presence without acknowledging that Jesus did for me what I could not do for myself--He made me acceptable in His Father’s eyes.
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