In my previous post, I shared with you my desire to hear your story – your personal testimony of that watershed moment in your life in which you submitted your life to the Lord Jesus Christ. I have heard from a few of my readers so far and would love to hear from others. I would like to share your story with others so that we might be encouraged by the testimony of one whose life has been transformed out of darkness into light; out of death into life.

In my next few posts, I will be focusing on each of the five “solas” that came out of the reformation. First, let’s think about “Sola Scriptura” – the Scriptures alone. Martin Luther was standing adamantly against the teachings of the Catholic church when he stood for the authority of Scripture over the authority of the church. Catholicism teaches that ultimate authority rests on the church, and specifically the Pope. In essence, according to Catholic teaching, Scripture is under the authority of the church, rather than the church being under the authority of Scripture. Thus, Martin Luther stated that this was an erroneous doctrine that needed to be reformed.

How does that apply to us, as we think about telling our own story? Simple: we learned of our need of salvation, of our “lostness”, and of the fact that Jesus Christ is the only means of salvation through the teachings of Scripture. It is there that we learn about mankind’s sinfulness, of our desperate need of being forgiven of our sin, and of the fact that Jesus Christ came into this world for the express purpose of providing the forgiveness we need.

My parents were faithful in their church attendance, and made sure that their three children were in church regularly. I have jokingly, but very thankfully, made the remark that I was raised in an Ozzie and Harriet home. If you’re not familiar with those names, the Nelson family – consisting of Ozzie, Harriet, and their two sons, Ricky and David – entertained Americans from 1952-1966 on “The Ozzie and Harriet Show.” Viewers were invited into their home each week to observe their family’s escapades. No cursing; no swearing; no violence. Just good, wholesome, family entertainment.

Growing up in the home of W.C. and Evelyn Stewart was much like that. No cursing; no swearing; no violence. I never heard a single word of profanity from either of my parents. I never heard my parents yell or scream at each other, or at their children. I’m sure they had their disagreements, but they never argued or fussed in our presence. My father died at the age of 52, leaving my mother a widow for the remainder of her life. She died at the age of 86. Everyone who walked into her house would be greeted by an open Bible, her Sunday School literature, and her daily devotional materials on the table, where she would spend time each day in the Scriptures.

I am blessed to have had such an environment to be reared in. But, alas, I rejected all that my Godly parents instilled in me as a child, youth, and young adult. I began rebelling against everything they had tried to teach me. I won’t go into all the sordid details of my waywardness, but to sum it up, I turned my back on the Savior they had so much wanted me to accept. (I will share some of those details in future posts.)

Skip ahead with me to the age of 26. As I was driving to work on Thursday, September 6, 1977, God spoke to me clearly and powerfully. No, you would not have heard His voice had you been riding with me that morning, but I heard it! And what I heard was straight out of Scripture. I understood in the most profound way that I desperately needed Jesus Christ in my life. Just a quick aside: Teresa (my wife) and I had not attended church, had no desire to attend church, and even made a mockery of those who invited us to attend their church. Church was not even a consideration in our minds.

But that changed after that Thursday morning encounter. I went home from work that day and shared with Teresa that I would like to go to church on Sunday. She laughed! Of course, she laughed because she thought I was joking. But I wasn’t joking. I persisted. Friday, Saturday, I persisted. Sunday morning I asked her again to please go to church with me. She still refused. So, I went alone. I went to the church I had been taken to by my parents as a child.

At the conclusion of the service, I spoke with the pastor, who had visited with me and Teresa on several different occasions. We made an appointment for him to visit with us in our home on Tuesday evening. That night, Tuesday, September 13, 1977, Teresa and I both committed our lives to the Lord Jesus Christ, based on the authority of Scripture. We were both gloriously saved, our marriage (which was in a wreck) was salvaged, and all things – literally – became new. (More of this story in a future post.)

What do we stand on for assurance? Scripture! Where do we turn for guidance? Scripture! Where do we receive instructions for righteous living? Scripture! Where do we turn in times of distress? Scripture! Where do we go in times of sorrow, suffering, and even as we walk through the valley of death with loved ones who are passing from this life to the next? Scripture!

Perhaps there has been a time in your life in which you found your help and hope in Scripture alone. Would you like to share it as an encouragement to others? We would love to hear your story. I’ll be sharing more of mine in my next post which will focus on Sola Fide – by faith alone.

Until then:

Blessings!