On October 22, 1973, on a Monday afternoon after school, my senior year in high school, in the bottle washing room at Hefner Dairy, all alone, I surrendered my life to Christ. I still remember that day rather vividly. I think I remember musing at school over the thought of that possibility in something like these terms: “What if I would commit my life to God because of what Christ has done for me on the cross?” Something like that. And the Holy Spirit was working on me, convicting me, and helping me see the truth of the gospel. That Christ died for our sins, and was raised from the dead to give us new life.
That had been going on for some time. I was tired of my life. Friendships seemed empty, and whatever I amused myself with, such as smoking pot when I could get my hands on it, just wasn’t enough, or more like, didn’t matter.
I was raised in a church in which we were faithfully taught Bible stories in Sunday School as children growing up. And whenever Billy Graham was going to be on television, our church bulletin would let us know. And our mother regularly read Bible stories to us, and prayed for us, along with her singing of hymns. I had made a profession of faith I think in my early teens, which I don’t think was real, because it didn’t stick. And I was pretty rebellious in those days in something of the spirit of the 60s, even if I wasn’t quite old enough to join that when it was most compelling (the Woodstock era).
The change in certain ways was immediate. I used to routinely cuss up and down, but that was now gone. And I really cared about everything, especially in terms of doing what was right and good. Whereas before, I would do what I had to do, but diligently enough because I was trained by hard working parents to work hard.
Of course it was a new love that hit me, a deep love for Christ which spilled over into an indiscriminate love for others, which was probably misunderstood in those days by women, because of my naivete. I was fortunate, because I was able to quit my cigarette smoking, which I had done for a year immediately, and was never tempted to smoke the weed.
Since then, the Lord has been faithful to keep me on the straight and narrow, though for a time I was off track in some ways. And I know I can easily get off track now. But God’s grace continues to be at work in my life. For which I am thankful. And I long to see that same saving grace break through into the lives of others. In and through Jesus.