Happy Birthday to Me!

Yup, 41 years old tomorrow! I had no clue what happened and what was happening on the day I was born--neither on my physical birthday (August 28, 1955--which means, hello Medicare--ugh), nor my spiritual birthday (tomorrow).

I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know all I needed to know, and I didn't know what I didn't know. All I knew was, If hell is real I don't want to go there. I didn't respond to the gospel; I didn't disbelieve in Jesus; it was purely self-interest.

It took me six weeks to "walk the aisle" to be immersed into Jesus. I joke that the auditorium floor in the church building was sloped, so that once you started walking you couldn't change your mind. When I came up out of the water, ... nothing. No fireworks, no exuberant joy, no sense of relief. There was ... nothing.

So worried over that nothing (did it "take"? Am I forgiven?); so insecure that I didn't dare ask about it; and yet--God used it to bring me where I am now. A stumbling, fumbling excuse of a minister, extremely flawed, yet cheished by God, accepted by Jesus, adopted into his family, indwelled by the Spirit of God.

No, I am nowhere close to where I need--or even want--to be. So far yet to go,yet I have made some progress. Sinned too many times to ever deserve forgiveness, yet where else can I go? I fall back on the "bleeding charity" (C. S. Lewis "The Great Divorce"). What other hope is there for me? For anyone? Fresh start? Yes, and as often as I need it.

This journey started, but it's not over yet. I have to press forward, to keep walking. I want to celebrate many more spiritual birthdays--but I want to see a deeper more robust and genuine faith, to be a godly giant in the faith.