By Linda Cox

“When were you saved?”

I cringe when asked that. I’m not one of those people who can pinpoint the exact day when I was saved. Not having a specific answer to that question can leave some people suspect about their salvation and, in turn, can make them feel guilty, wondering if they are truly saved. That included me at one time.

I was raised in a Christian home, attended church and Sunday School, and loved reading the Bible. But my teen years were a time of rebellion. I left the faith of my youth for the pursuit of pleasure, and eventually success and money. I came to my senses when God brought me to my knees as the bottom dropped out of my world. I returned home to my parents, broken and defeated at the age of thirty-two. They welcomed the prodigal back with open arms, and my mother gave me a Bible with the comment that what I was looking for was in there.

I read that Bible cover to cover, and the answer was there, just like Mom had said. The more I read, the more I saw clearly and believed. And the wayward child came home. Gradually. Slowly. But finally home.

Yet a specific date to say I was saved? Nope.

I recently read a quote by Karl Barth. He said when someone tried to pin him down on when he was saved, he always told them, “It happened one afternoon in A.D. 34 when Christ died on the cross.”

Well, Amen to that!

Whether we remember the day we were saved or not, the bottom line is that we didn’t do anything to be saved. Christ did it all on the cross that first Good Friday afternoon when He died for our sins. When Christ cried out, “It is finished,” it was. And all who believe in Him were saved. Our new lives in Him had just begun.

Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes in Him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:14-16