Let me take a moment of your time to tell you my story–the true story of a Christian who became a Christian. No, that was not a typo! Let me explain…
I grew up in the Bible Belt surrounded by churches. The local school was called a Christian school; and most folks were called Christians. My parents also subscribed to this way of thinking. We went to church Sunday after Sunday, read our Bibles and prayed regularly. In fact, we made a good number of short-term mission trips together.
So it happened one day that the local evangelical church we attended had a joint Sunday School meeting. All the kids were gathered together to watch a film. I can’t remember what it was about but I do remember an adult stepping forward after the film and saying that if we wanted to go to heaven that we needed to invite Jesus into our hearts. So around the age of five I did just that–without telling a single soul–not even my own mother.
Recently we received two testimonies. One was from a ladies’ small group from a church in Alberta, Canada and the other was from a church in Singapore. These two churches were an ocean apart but they had the same vision: to ensure every member understood a clear gospel.
Our ladies’ study group consisted of 12 ladies with different levels of Bible knowledge. There were ladies with no knowledge at all, some with many of years of study and everything in between. The study ran for two months and we met every Wednesday morning. Our book study was
A church in Singapore regularly runs its own version of a
Stuart* levelled his eyes steadily at his father Frank. He took a breath before asking one of the most difficult questions a son could ask: “Dad, are you ready to die?”
Editor’s note: Previously, we had shared 
With willingness and a keenness to share the gospel whenever the opportunity arises, one can never tell how God will use a person to give away the Good News. Here are four consecutive visits to the manicurist that resulted in the good news being shared.