My Grandmother told me about Jesus. I felt him in her. But she died when I was very young.
When I was about 11 I went to a Christian camp where I was told I was a sinner and was told about hell. I went down and accepted Jesus as my savior so I didn't burn forever in hell.
The next night I was told the same thing so I went down to accept Jesus again.
Then I was told If I was sensire I would be baptised. So I decided to be baptised to keep my soul from hell.
When being explained what baptism meant I accepted Christ as my savior again.
Over the next 8 or so years I accepted Christ as my savior a thousand times.
Well I didn't count. But it was a lot. Never understanding that It wasn't what I did or could do that saved me from hell.
I grew up feeling like God was waiting for me to mess up so he could toss me into hell.
I didn't understand that I was accepted as Gods child by grace through a loving God until I was about 25.