It All Started in History Class

There I was, in a Catholic school during those tumultuous jr. high years when you had a best friend at 10 AM, and she became your worst enemy at 11 AM, and then you were best friends again by noon. Years came and went, and then 10th grade came, and with it, history class. The subject was the Reformation-the time in the 1500s when some daring men and women went against the super-power of the Roman Catholic church with their own ideas of Christianity. These brave men and women were thorns in the side of the Roman church, rabble rousers, troublemakers. To me, these brave men and women were heroes. The Reformers held firmly to the Bible, and to the belief that it should be made available for all to read, "even the ploughboy in the field." I started to do the thing they had died for; I started to read the Bible for myself. I started going to a church that taught only from the Bible. I gave my life, my heart and my intellect to Jesus. I read more about my Reformers, and their constant cry of "By faith alone, in Scripture alone." That was 20 years ago, and I still find myself fascinated by the Reformers and indebted to them for the pains and persecutions they endured in order that I would be able to read the Bible in 1985 and learn about God and His Spirit and His Son, and about how to have my soul saved forever.