Whilst a Jewish lad growing up, I thought God probably existed, yet theology wasn’t much of an issue nor did I study the tanakh (Old Testament). It is kind of the reason why after glancing at Isaiah 53, I thought the truth was shown to me. And after letting that passage dwell on me for just a little bit, I accepted Jesus as my Saviour.
This was back in 1993, and it might not have happened unless my landlady was Christian, and her son and wife, churchgoers. I then joined hands with them, and became one of the flock. I felt great, and shared my feelings with churchgoers, and got a Star of David – crucifix piece, molded together, to wear around my neck.
I knew I had home in heaven, and thought myself as one of the minority who knew the truth.
Yet the problem was I wept over my Jewish grandmother, over the idea of her living in hell. And when I came by to my parents’ for a visit, much to their dismay, seeing the jewelry and hearing about my new belief, I expressed anger towards them. They refused to accept Jesus’, and I thought the Jewish people were lost, and myself, found.
I was a confused man about God and tried to conform “him” into something ideal, because maybe it was the question of hell that posed a problem for me? I remained adamant about Jesus, however, and when my father told me I would be talking with a rabbi about the issue. Nonetheless, I felt confident.
After about two hours of discussing the bible with him, it was so long to being a “born-again.” So about 9 months of Christianity, that was it, right? Well, I believe it was 1995 when I received the revelation from God about myself being the King.
Yeah, it is interesting that I believed in Jesus, yet it was God’s plan to show me some things.
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