My name is Sylvia, and this is my story.
I was born in East Texas. My father was a farmer who tried his best to take care of our family. We had a very small home that some would call a shack. My mom put newspapers on the walls to keep the winter cold out, but we could see the chickens running underneath the house through the cracks in the floors. My father was eventually able to get a job in Oklahoma City, and then we moved into a two-bedroom house, which was a castle compared to our home in Texas.
My mom was the one that made sure we attended church. When I was 13 years old, we were going to a little storefront church. It seemed like the preacher preached on salvation almost every service. It was there that I realized how sinful and unworthy of heaven I was, and I asked Jesus Christ to forgive me of my sins and save me.
“As it is written, there is none righteous, no, not one.” Romans 3:10
“For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God;” Romans 3:23
I married at the age of 18; my husband was in the military, which required us to move to California for a year. We looked for a church but did not find one that we felt at home in, so we just decided not to go at all. It was a very bad idea. We eventually moved back home to Oklahoma City, but we still did not think we needed to go to church. By then we had a baby girl, and my mom would not stop pestering me about going to church. Finally, I repented, got right with God and started going to church again.