I Followed Jesus But My Life Didn't Get Better

At age five, my mother led me to pray the “sinner’s prayer” in the back of her white Nissan Sentra. The corner of my eyes caught glimpses of the blue doors and pillars of my elementary school as I tried to keep them closed.

“Dear God, I know I’m a sinner. I know you died and rose again for my sins. Please come into my heart and be my savior.”