Well, apart from God never giving up pursuing me, this is how I became a Christian.

I grew up going to church, because mum took me and my brothers every week.  It never entered my head that this was anything other than normal, and so I was very surprised to learn that some girls at school were regularly sleeping over at their friends' houses on Saturday nights, and not going to church in the morning, and their parents were ok with this.  So I grew up believing that God existed, and was quite happy for him to be a part of my life, believing what the Bible taught and happily entertaining stories of people being thrown into firey furnaces and lions dens and coming out unscathed.

But going through the school years I got very depressed, friends could never make up their minds whether they wanted to be friends or not, and I took it all very personally.  God has a way of making himself heard though, whether you want to listen or not, and I "heard from God" many times, often during weekends away with the other kids from church.  The whole thing about Jesus dying for me because he loved me so much despite everything I did and had done made me cry so many times, because I could never believe I was worth it.  And I wasn't a particularly bad kid, either.

But although God was continually putting people in my way who would tell me how much God loved me, I didn't really believe it.  How could God love me, yet I was still so ridiculously unhappy?  Eventually things came to a head with the friends situation, a major fall out with a girl at church, which resulted in three years of all the people I considered friends turning their backs on me and refusing to talk to me.  At the end of these three years a lot of those friends realised that I'd been telling the truth about the situation and came back to apologise, but three years is a long time to be isolated like that, and I still hadn't made up with the girl at the centre of the problem.