A day I remember.
It was the summer of 1976, Vacation Bible School at the local church in our neighborhood. I could not wait to go. My favorite things about Sunday School were singing “This Little Light of Mine” (as loud as I could), Tropical Punch Kool-aid, and ginger snap cookies.
Texas in the summer can be unbearable. So hot that your sticky before you even leave your cool house. It was one of those summer days. I had begged my mother to let me wear my white Easter sandals, the ones that let my toes stay cold. But my feet were still squeaky that’s why I lost one under the pew. I had been swinging my legs to get cool when the offending shoe dropped off and got lost. I jumped down from the pew on to my knees and began the search. That’s when I heard Him call my name. I ignored it. I was on a mission and kept crawling under the benches to find my shoe. I heard Him again. “Heidi.” I looked up and bumped my head on the bottom of the bench.
Being at church was one of my favorite places to be. It smelled like lemon furniture polish, old library books, and cool fresh air all at the same time. I remember the carpet was rough on my one bare foot as I stood up and peaked around the bench toward the front. The pastor was there talking about Jesus. I understood what was happening because my mom had told me all about how to ask Jesus to come live in your heart and I was very happy my brother had gone down to the front just the week before to pray with the pastor because he stopped pulling my hair.
I heard Him call me again. “Heidi.” I knew Him. I had known Him for a long time. I just couldn’t remember how or why. But we were already an us. So, when I saw Him on one knee, with His hand outstretched looking at me, I smiled. Looking at me He said, “Heidi come here. So that everyone knows that I belong to you and you belong to me.”
And that is what I did the summer of 1976, I was 5 years old, during Vacation Bible School. A day I will never forget. I met Jesus at the altar, took His hand, and have never let go.
Heidi Young
