I was raised in a Christian home and my parents are very committeed believers.  We had regular evening devotions and attended church every Sunday.  I learned about Jesus both at church and at home.  Generally, I was a well-behaved girl. I did my best to obey my parents and other elders as I was taught at Sunday school, I memorized my Bible verses, and I did what I thought was expected of me as a child coming from the pastor’s home. But I was also a liar and a thief, among other things.  I stole money from the house, sometimes even from friends at school.  Deep down I knew that stealing was wrong.  I knew that God hated it, but I did it anyway.  I was a captive to my sins.

I eventually stopped the stealing, but even then I still wasn’t saved.  I had thought about salvation many times before, but had never seriously considered giving my life to Jesus. I thought that I was young and probably had enough time to do it later on in life.  One day a friend from my Sunday school class comfronted me about my salvation.  He asked me if I was born again and I told him I was. But I guess there was something about my answer that did not convince him that I was really saved, because he kept on insisting that I give my life to Jesus.  I told him I would, but afterwards did nothing about it.

As time went by, attending church became a matter of just going through the motions. I attended because I was required to.  When in church, I always made sure to entertain myself by filling my mind with immaginations and thoughts that had nothing to do with God.  I did this Sunday after Sunday, year after year, until one Sunday when I was twelve years old.

It was January 2006.  A guest preacher had been invited to preach at our church that morning.  I didn’t even care much to know his name at the time, and I don’t even recall most of what his sermon was about.  I was absent-minded and paid no attention to any of it, until something he said caught my attention.

He was preaching from the book of Philemon and somewhere in the middle of his sermon he talked about death.  He talked about how death came suddenly and not only to old people but also to children like I was at that time.  Having lost my mother earlier as a child, death was something I was familiar with and very afraid of.  The preacher also talked about how anyone who died without Jesus would end up in hell and that Jesus was the only way of escape from eternal death. He is the giver of eternal life.

 In my heart I knew I had been living wrong.  That message went straight to my heart. It was as if I had never heard about Jesus before. My heart was troubled and I knew I was guilty of sin.  When the sermon was over, the song leader asked all those who needed more help on the subject of salvation to stay behind and talk to someone.  I knew I should have done it but I didn’t.  I tried to push the feeling of guilt away and thought it would pass, but it didn’t.

That afternoon after the service I gave my life to the Lord.  I confessed my sins and repented of them and I believe I was saved.  After that I began to experience more love for God and His word.  Attending church was no longer a matter of fulfilling a duty.  Jesus was now my saviour and my friend and he continues to be today.  I was later baptized into the church membership of Bethel Baptist Church in Kabwe, Zambia in May 2010.