Important to me.

I'm in a really introspective mood this morning. I hope it's not just a mood. I truly desire change in my heart and in my life. My good friend Taylor gave me a book by Dallas Willard called Renovation of the Heart. I desire a renovation.

For those of you who'd like to know, I'd like to tell you my testimony. For those of you who wouldn't like to know, don't sweat it, I understand. Sometimes testimonies or the telling of something "mystic" is awkward. So come back another day if you want.

I grew up in a Christian household. My folks were the type of people who had us in church every Sunday. It really wasn't optional. If you were sick, then that was fine but you better stay in bed all day to at least fake it. I greatly appreciate that spiritual sentiment from my parents. I don't thinks that's what the key to my salvation was but I do think it was a major contributing factor. I was eleven when I walked the aisle for an invitation. I don't really remember it. I remember thinking that out of my siblings, it was my turn to walk. I also remember that it was like the sunday before Christmas. Christmas is also my father's birthday so I was shooting for a birthday baptism. My gosh, it all seems so stupid right now. As anyone older than eleven would understand, baptist churches usually don't baptize on Christmas Sunday. They've rented sheep by the hour for the pageant so baptisms would seem to run the sheep rate up and get in the way. I don't remember regretting my decision. Like I said though, I don't remember much of why I walked the aisle anyway. I do remember my mom telling me that she and my dad were real proud of me.
I spent the next several years in my youth group like a lot of other church kids. I read my Bible when I could. I had a great time, made a lot of life long friends, learned a lot about forgiveness due to the swinging door of youth pastors that we had. I feel like for some reason, God was really caring for me and directing me even though, as you'll soon read, as I look back I don't really think I was His. These last few statements are kinda vague and don't really adequately describe the 11 to 20 age in my life but anything more that I would say would really just be trying to paint a respectable picture. I will say that I always ran with the older kids, ended up being one of the more active and "spiritual" leaders in the group and into college, seemed to really have my stuff together. That's all worth about, let's say, ZERO in terms of value. In fact, those feelings of being cool or being a leader are things that actually sank me deeper into the false sense of security that I was living in.
Okay Okay, like I said, sorry, feeling introspective. Let's fast forward to a drive up to Louisiana Tech in June of 1996. I had been trying to date a girl who was still in classes over the summer up in Ruston. I was driving on I-49 just south of Alexandria and God started bugging me. Forgive my wording, I don't really know how to accurately put it. I couldn't get away from the nagging feeling that I hadn't given him my heart, that I had not accepted His Son as my deliverer, my Saviour. I joke with people that he was in both lanes of the road in both seats of my truck. He was inescapable and the fear that I felt that day along with the feeling of not being his was so so strong. Of all I'd been taught about Him, to think that the peace that came with knowing him and giving him your life was not mine, was really unbearable. I begged him that day to take me back, take me however. I was so confused, because, logistically at age 11 I was his. It was just not true. It was very scary and very humbling. I had lived a lie for so long. I vividly remember the anxiety because I knew the truth and I knew the truth both about Him and about me. There was such confusion and I think that rather than stop the truck or pray, I just lived the next day or two. Part of me tried to say that I was stupid for feeling so doubtful of my "original" salvation but the other part was desparate for him.
Things with the girl didn't go well which just added onto the weight of the weekend. I went to church alone Sunday morning. At least I loved my church in Ruston. The pastor was amazing and I just knew he could shed some light for me. We do our singing and shaking hands and it's time for him to speak. He's not there! There's this like 70 year old guy filling in for him this week. I was crushed for a couple of minutes until my ignorance gave way to listening to what he was saying. It was a combination of things that day. One was his message, another was the cross in stained glass on the baptistry wall and the other was the audible voice of God calling me to come to him. The guy spoke on the parable about the wheat and the chaff. I greatly identified with his assessment of chaff. Chaff evidently looks a lot like wheat but it's not and it has to be cut out of wheat fields because it grows in with the wheat and chokes it. It hinders healthy wheat growth. Then you get into removing the chaff and throwing it into the fire. I don't want you to think that a fire and brimstone message brought me down the aisle. That wasn't it. More than fire was the thought that for all these years I could have been getting in the way of people that I was living life with. I still fear that sometimes. To the cross. At one point in the morning, I believe I could see Christ and in seeing I was coming to believing. This was definitely a baptist cross with no Christ, but this morning, I could see him and it made complete and new sense as to what he was doing up there. Along with that, when the old man gave the call to the altar, I felt Him say "Go". I went. I gave Him everything I hadn't given him all those years and asked him to have my heart, to be my Lord. That was a good day(what an amazing understatement). I told several friends to their amazement. I drove home, told several friends and told my parents. I kept getting the "we thought you were saved already!" response. I think I got that from my folks but I also got a really warm embrace from both individually. I think they knew that this made sense. Not that salvation makes sense but that I was an adult who had come to a real place of faith not just the son who was taking his turn at Christianity in a Christian family. Please do not read this as a slam to young salvation. I believe it is real for those who believe it is real in their life. In my life though, when I looked back, I had no recollection of why or what was said on that day at age 11.
I've had my doubts since then. I've had things in my life come up that made me feel like I hadn't given myself wholly over to Him but my faith is now rooted in His grace so I feel peace in just telling Him. He is amazing!
I desire Him, His Son, His Spirit, His continual renovation. There is a peace that is unexplainable in my life. Mystic if you will.
I hope this encourages you. I'm not sure why I was moved to type it. Maybe it's just for me. Either way, He deserves the glory due His name.

Jake