My great uncle and aunt, Uncle Freeman and Aunt Coline, were recently visiting from their home in Oklahoma. They stayed at my grandmother's house down the street form mine. My parents, my brother and I went down to the house for a get-together to eat hot dogs.
After we'd eaten our fill, we gathered in the living room for the one thing other than happiliy lit up faces that was a hallmark of these two's visits. Uncle Freeman already had his Bible out and, after we'd all sat down on the sofas, he began his devotion.
The devotion, as most will be in December, was about Christmas and it
talked about how we need to remember all the wonderous blessings God has given us. But, inside the main devotion, was another that I hadn't
heard before.
He asked if any of us could remember the exact date in which we got saved. We knew that many others, including my pastor, knew the exact date, but we could not. I've always been raised in church, as were my parents, but we couldn't remember the time when we'd been saved.
Unlce Freeman said that a pastor he'd once known had addressed this concern once with a story. The pastor had said that when he was young he grew up on a farm. When he was old enough, his father took him to a young horse that had just recently been born and said, "This horse is yours. He is yours to feed and take care of as he grows."
The young boy took very good care of his horse and it became like his pet. It would follow him around the field and would always stay close to him whenever it could. Later on, when the horse had grown bigger, the young pastor started leaning on it and, gradually, got to where he could hang on the side of it. It bore his whole weight.
They then decided it was time to ride it. He put a saddle on the horse's back and raised himself up into it. This didn't bother the horse in the least and they were quickly riding easily around.
There was another horse that had been born about the same time as the pastor's horse, but it had been allowed to roam free over the field. Around this same time, they also decided it was time to ride this horse. They brought the wild horse, put the saddle on its back, and got one of the young workers to ride it. Immediately, the horse began bucking and kicking like you've never seen in your life.
The pastor then said, "Imagine if those two horses could talk. The wild horse would ask the tame horse, 'Do you remember the first time you were ridden?'
"The tame horse would think for a second and reply, 'No, not really. What about you?'
"The wild horse would answer, 'I'll never forget it. It was the longest day of my life.'"
Many Christians that have been brought up in the church all through their childhood don't remember the exact day because they were kind of raised toward it. They did have to get saved, but it's harder to discern the exact time.
However, those who don't believe the gospels, fight against them, and are dragged "kicking and screaming", to quote my great uncle, into Christianity are more likely to remember the day because it was such a dramatic change from their original lifestyle to their new one.
I found this story quite helpful because I'd always felt kind-of odd when I couldn't remember when I got saved and those around me were quoting the day/month/year/hour/minute/second. This helped me understand that there is a reason why, it doesn't mean that one's better than the other, it just means that they were probably brought into the fold differently.