My Story

Over the past five years of working in Uganda and DR Congo, I have read hundreds of stories of people whose lives God has gloriously changed. Many of these stories I have posted to the IMFC blog for you to read, enjoy and celebrate. But there’s one story I’ve not posted. My story.

I’m afraid that I often forget, or overlook, or underestimate my own story of grace when I encounter these great, heart moving accounts of broken, improvised, sinful, neglected people being wonderfully saved and changed by God! You see, as I compare my story to their story, my story is not nearly as sensational and heart rending as theirs. But I do have a story. It’s a story that is unique to me. It is the story of how God has changed my life. Here’s my story.

I had the great fortune to be be born to and raised by parents who loved me, loved God and taught me to be a Christ follower. As a result, I never got into trouble as a child or teenager. Mom and Dad kept a pretty tight rope on me. If they had not, no telling what I would have done or tried to do, because on the inside, I was rebellious. I know that I would have followed the crowd into whatever mischief was out there. So I hated their tight control over my life: What I did, who I did it with and when I did it! American freedom for me was freedom to do what my parents said I could do. No more. No less.

Every week I went to church. Not because I wanted to, but because my parents made me go with them. I heard sermons on every subject imaginable or, lets say, I was in the room where these sermons were preached physically. Whether I actually heard or not is another story. But while there I felt the call of God deep inside my innermost being drawing me to Him, but my will was stronger than His call and I stood my ground. I never responded. But I could not celebrate my victory over the voice of God because I was miserable on the inside. I was in the wrong and I knew it. I could not shake this knowledge. I was running from God. But I could not outrun Him.

But this all changed when I was sixteen. My resistance to the Lord broke and I humbled myself before Him. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it was my younger brother humbling himself before the Lord that pushed me out into His arms. Maybe it was just time. I don’t know and I’m not going to get caught up in endless theological debates trying to explain it. But for whatever the reason, I responded to God’s call. Angels didn’t sing. Bells didn’t chime. The heavens didn’t open. I didn’t hear an audible voice. I simply gave my life to Jesus Christ. He was drawing me to Him and I came to him. I opened my life to him. I didn’t even say the “sinners prayer”! In fact, I said very little. I simply gave my life to Jesus and He accepted me and changed me.

This event did take place on a Sunday night. It did happen in a church service. An alter call was involved, but it was more than all these things combined. That night I completely surrendered my life to Jesus Christ. He became the center piece of my existence. I knew it. The Lord knew it. No more running from Him. Now we walked together.

That was almost forty years ago. The act of committing my life to Jesus changed my future. I never dreamed of becoming a preacher, but I did. I never thought about leaving Alabama or going to seminary, but I did. I never dreamed that I would travel the world and preach his gospel to people of different languages and skin color, but I am. My life has changed and it continues to change. The life I live today is not the future I dreamed about as a teenager, it is better. And what my life will experience in the next five, ten, twenty or more years, I do not know. But I know it will exceed my expectations because it is in His control.

This is my story. And I am living it daily!

So, what is your story. Do you have one? Want to share it? I would love to hear of your adventure with God.

Tagged as: God's grace, salvation, testimony