Abductive Columns

Saturday, December 02, 2006

My Story

I didn’t have the privilege of being raised in a Christian home. For twenty-seven years I didn’t know who Jesus was. O, I knew He was someone the world talked about once a year. But I didn’t understand His saving grace or why He died.

My childhood was lost in the pain and dysfunction of a broken home. My brother went to jail before he graduated from High School. Throughout my college years I immersed myself in drugs and alcohol. During those years I met my future wife. I didn’t realize, at the time, that she came from a Christian home. I have to admit that I saw Bibles laying around when I visited her family, but there was never any indication that she took her faith serious. After marriage and our first child, she began attending church. I felt this would pass. I kept waiting for her to quit. But she faithfully loaded the car every Sunday with the baby and all the diapers and baby bottles.

Over time I began feeling guilty as I watched her carry my daughter in one arm and the baby paraphernalia in the other. I began attending with her. Over time I came to a crossroad. I had to run from it all or submit my life. Needless to say I gave my mess to Jesus.

Thirty years of living without Jesus left me with a “bunch” of bad habits and dysfunction…and habits don’t die easily. Today, they continue to hound me.

To be frank with you, I am going to be a bit apprehensive as I stand before God on Judgement Day. Because there’s so much in my life that I am not proud of. On that Day I will probably stammer and stutter and clear my throat as I try to cover all my bases. I’ll say, “God, I’m sorry about all the evil, would you forgive me for what I did and what I didn’t do? Forgive me for the grarbage in my life.”

God will pull out His record book and say, “Fred, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Look! There’s blood all over the pages of your life1. I can’t read a thing.” Then Jesus will lean over His Father’s shoulder and say, “Father, that’s because Fred belongs to me. The blood proves He’s mine.”

1 I used this story at a table talk before the faith community I was assembled with ate and drank the Lord's Supper. When I mentioned the record book and the pages of life with blood on them, I opened a journal I had brought wth me covered with ketchup as an illustration.

1 Comments:

At 1:14 PM, Blogger Bill said...

May your knowledge and experience of the riches of God’s grace, abundantly lavished on us through the gift of His Son as our Savior and King, warm your souls and brighten your days through this holiday season. Merry Christmas! -bill

 

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