I have to admit that my belief began in childhood. My mother took for granted that God exists and that Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of God. I took that belief in along with other childhood assumptions. She read the Bible to us and I found the stories fascinating. The people seemed real to me. No one I knew questioned the existence of God or the authenticity of the Bible---at least until I got to high school (1957-1961). The Theory of Evolution was taught, and yes, the textbook referred to it as a “theory” not a proven fact. I gave it some consideration as a teenager, but discarded that theory because I read material that defended the biblical record and presented the flaws the theory had. My beliefs had not really been tested yet. I went on to a small private Bible college after high school. I studied the Bible through the particular doctrinal stance of that denomination. I was exposed to some Bible criticism and apologetics. But my faith had still not been tested.  I married and had a child. My husband and I attended church. We prayed and studied the Bible. He was laid off from his job and we moved. Still my faith had not been tested.  He lost two more jobs and God continued to provide our needs even through a four month long unemployment. We struggled to make ends meet, but we never went hungry or homeless. God proved himself trustworthy through economic and health crises. Prayers were answered. Needs were met. But the big test was yet to come. What was my big test?  It came from people, church people---disappointment and disillusionment with Christians, leaders and members, hit me really hard. Through ten years of anger and an unforgiving attitude, I questioned everything I had ever been taught. After all, hadn’t Jesus said that we would know his disciples by the love they had for one another? Okay, you have a right to wonder, “Where was my love?” God was revealing something to me. I had never really seen my need for a savior. I was just as lacking in God’s love as the few people who had done me wrong.  Through my searching for truth, nothing I found disproved the existence of God or the authenticity of the Bible or the reality that Jesus really did exist, really did die, and really was resurrected to life. But that still isn’t the reason I continue to believe. I believe because when I confessed my sin before God from deep inside of me, he forgave me. I know he forgave me because he took away from me all that anger and bitterness that I had been carrying around with me for years. In a moment’s time it was just gone. I didn’t will-power it away. He removed it. I know Jesus is alive!