My Testimony (part of it) - CM01

I was 18 yrs old when I heard the Gospel for the first time. It was a classmate of mine that boldly invited me to his house just to preach to me about Jesus. I was my classroom’s appointed spokesman because I was known for my debate skills. But something happened that afternoon: I could not refute anything of the things he said to me although I did not want to believe them. My inquisitive mind and my pride would not rest for the following two weeks. I spent hours and hours alone in my bedroom thinking about his words and reading the Bible to find a way to contradict what he told me.
I could not fight it anymore. I admitted that what he shared with me was what the Bible said, but there was one thing that was driving me crazy, and that very thing is the core of the Gospel. I asked myself over and over again, “how does a man that died almost 2000 years ago have anything to do with me?” I see that he might have died because of the sin of his contemporaries, but what did I do? I don’t have anything to do with that, it happened centuries ago. That day I took the bus to town to see my classmate so I could ask him these questions. His house was close to the Children’s Hospital and the bus stopped right at the entrance. I had never been inside and I was always curious to see what goes on inside. Somehow, it was like a hand guided me to the top floor, where kids abandoned by their parents wait to be adopted. In one room was this little boy. His name was Mathew, and he was crying with a cry I’ve never heard before, a cry of real pain, no tears in his eyes, staring at the ceiling like praying to God for help. I was shocked. I did not know what to do. At that moment, the nurse came in and I asked her why he was crying. She replied: it is because of his wounds and open sores, so we have to change his position often. When she pulled those sheets I could not believe my eyes: he was skin, bones and sores. Almost crying I asked the nurse how long he’s been like this. She said “14 years, his parents abandoned him when they discovered that he had mental problems.”
I was only four years older than him and he looked like a five year old child. Tears were running through my eyes. When the nurse left, I could not that image out of my head. I thought, he might have never seen the light, and I took courage and lifted him up and took him to the windows to see the outside world, a world that rejected him, a world that he never knew. In my unbelief I prayed, “God, why do these things happen? He is totally innocent and he is paying for the sin of irresponsible parents.” In that very moment, God spoke to my spirit and told me: Jesus was completely innocent and never sinned and he suffered even worse because of your sin. Don’t ask me how, but that day I understood the Gospel and I would never be the same again. God used an abandoned, malnourished child to save me.
I never got to my friend’s house, all my questions were answered. I left that hospital crying, but crying for joy. I’ve been forgiven by the blood of the innocent Holy Lamb of God.