If you ever felt unwanted, unloved and hopeless, this story is for you.
It's Teresa Pollard's story about how God's House "spelled L-O-V-E" for her when she was a a lonely child. Read her story to discover how God transforms broken into beautiful and makes the unloved feel lovable, safe and secure in His arms.
Ultimately's Teresa's love story with her Savior Jesus Christ is one of HOPE and restoration.
Enjoy!
Ultimately's Teresa's love story with her Savior Jesus Christ is one of HOPE and restoration.
Enjoy!
~*~
My Love Story with Jesus
A Falling in Love with Jesus story written by Teresa Pollard
My love story with Jesus began an early age. This is probably unusual because I’m not from a Christian family. My next-door-neighbor, Pat Harmon (now Dyson), began taking me to church with her when she was only a pre-teen herself. Every Sunday she’d come to my house, take my younger sister and me by the hand, and bring us with her to Sunday School and church. I loved it there. So many hugs and handshakes from strangers. God’s House spelled L-O-V-E to this lonely child.
I was a lonely, unloved child. I’d lost my front tooth as a baby, and it was the last one to return, which by the time it did, it was as crooked as Al Capone. That and stringy mousy-brown hair made me “unlovable” in most of my family’s eyes. A friend of mine told me that it wasn’t until she was an adult that she knew that God loved her. I was just the opposite. When I sang “Jesus Loves Me” and “Jesus Loves the Little Children,” it touched me and thrilled my soul. I think it was the first concept I did get. Maybe because I needed it so badly.
At age twelve, I gave my life to Jesus Christ and was baptized. But He had my heart long before that. When I was age eight or nine, I’d gone to my mom and told her I loved Jesus, and I asked to be baptized. She told me to “wait until my sister was old enough” because she “didn’t want to go through that twice.” So I waited. When I did go forward, the pastor shook my hand. We didn’t kneel and pray or anything then. That wasn’t done back in those days, at least not in our church. It was generally done when the pastor came to your home afterwards. But when he came to my house, my mom offered him a beer. That wasn’t conducive to sharing the gospel. I know now this is completely backwards, but it wasn’t until the night of my baptism that he finally shared the gospel with me and I prayed to receive Christ. I was overjoyed.
That doesn’t mean I never strayed. I was faithful in my church service until I was about sixteen. Then my parents divorced, and it was messy. I stopped going to church on a regular basis. I never did anything wild or crazy. (Well, the “wildest” thing I ever did was run off and get married.) Most of my life, I’ve been accused of being a “goody-two-shoes” or a “teacher’s pet.” Maybe I was afraid if I did wild things I might lose His love. I don’t know. I know I never wanted that to happen.
Anyway, after my oldest daughter was born, another pair of neighbors, Happy and Katie Hash, shared the gospel with Wade (my ex-husband) and me. Wade received Christ. The next morning, I was down on my knees praying, asking God if I really was saved at all. He graciously gave me an inner vision of myself in that upper room when I was twelve, praying that sinner’s prayer. I’ve never doubted my salvation since. I seek to serve Him all my days. Because I love Him. Because He first love me.
~*~
Author bio:
My love story with Jesus began an early age. This is probably unusual because I’m not from a Christian family. My next-door-neighbor, Pat Harmon (now Dyson), began taking me to church with her when she was only a pre-teen herself. Every Sunday she’d come to my house, take my younger sister and me by the hand, and bring us with her to Sunday School and church. I loved it there. So many hugs and handshakes from strangers. God’s House spelled L-O-V-E to this lonely child.
I was a lonely, unloved child. I’d lost my front tooth as a baby, and it was the last one to return, which by the time it did, it was as crooked as Al Capone. That and stringy mousy-brown hair made me “unlovable” in most of my family’s eyes. A friend of mine told me that it wasn’t until she was an adult that she knew that God loved her. I was just the opposite. When I sang “Jesus Loves Me” and “Jesus Loves the Little Children,” it touched me and thrilled my soul. I think it was the first concept I did get. Maybe because I needed it so badly.
At age twelve, I gave my life to Jesus Christ and was baptized. But He had my heart long before that. When I was age eight or nine, I’d gone to my mom and told her I loved Jesus, and I asked to be baptized. She told me to “wait until my sister was old enough” because she “didn’t want to go through that twice.” So I waited. When I did go forward, the pastor shook my hand. We didn’t kneel and pray or anything then. That wasn’t done back in those days, at least not in our church. It was generally done when the pastor came to your home afterwards. But when he came to my house, my mom offered him a beer. That wasn’t conducive to sharing the gospel. I know now this is completely backwards, but it wasn’t until the night of my baptism that he finally shared the gospel with me and I prayed to receive Christ. I was overjoyed.
That doesn’t mean I never strayed. I was faithful in my church service until I was about sixteen. Then my parents divorced, and it was messy. I stopped going to church on a regular basis. I never did anything wild or crazy. (Well, the “wildest” thing I ever did was run off and get married.) Most of my life, I’ve been accused of being a “goody-two-shoes” or a “teacher’s pet.” Maybe I was afraid if I did wild things I might lose His love. I don’t know. I know I never wanted that to happen.
Anyway, after my oldest daughter was born, another pair of neighbors, Happy and Katie Hash, shared the gospel with Wade (my ex-husband) and me. Wade received Christ. The next morning, I was down on my knees praying, asking God if I really was saved at all. He graciously gave me an inner vision of myself in that upper room when I was twelve, praying that sinner’s prayer. I’ve never doubted my salvation since. I seek to serve Him all my days. Because I love Him. Because He first love me.
~*~
Author bio:
Teresa Pollard is from Richmond, Virginia. She was saved at a young age. She has a Master of Arts degree in English and Creative Writing from Hollins College, and has served as a Sunday School teacher and children’s worker for most of the last forty years.
She is the co-author of Not Guilty and Not Ashamed, and the author of Tokens of Promise and Woman of Light. Married for forty years, she was devastated by divorce and the death of her youngest daughter. But God has blessed her with a new home and another grandson. She now resides in Dacula, Georgia.
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