reset 06/23/99
For years I was concerned that I had no Christian testimony. I grew up attending a Bible preaching, Baptist church. I was from a middle class, dual parent family, and wanted for nothing. I had no heart-wrenching lost-and-found story to tell. I knew nothing of illegal drugs. I had done no jail time. My story was extremely blasé, and I was embarrassed to tell others of my simpleton "conversion" experience. Today I rejoice in the fact that I had Christian parents, Bill and Doylene, who saved me the grief of learning things the hard way. I am grateful I had parents who provided a spiritually healthy environment, where exposure to God's word, God's expectations, and His road to salvation were assured at an early age.
I recall my parents telling me at kindergarten age that someday I may feel God calling me, and if I did receive such a message, I could take a special bath. Now I'm sure that's not exactly how it was related to me, but who knows how a kid's mind works anyway? Needless to say, I was not like little Samuel from the Bible who audibly heard God calling his name, but like Samuel after he'd been prepped by his mentor, Eli, I was ready for that call if and when it came.
I was a Jeckel-Hyde kid. I was a perfect angel in school and in public, but at home I was always in trouble. I was the second of four brothers and fell victim to the four year rule. If there are at least four years between siblings, then the number of life threatening confrontations approaches zero. A child has sense enough to recognize that someone four years his elder, as a general rule, can inflict serious pain. A child also has the savvy to know that a sibling four years his junior poses no real threat. My older brother was a year and a half older than me, while I was only three years older than son number three. My little brother was a whole eight years younger, which totally exempted him from all brotherly conflict. I got it from both sides, however, and I received what seemed the lion's share of punishment. It appears natural from the parental standpoint that if little Randy was always involved, Randy must be the source of the familial strife. I'm sure that all the positive feedback from outside the home had my parents scratching their heads.
I don't have recollection of the particular year. I must have completed either fourth or fifth grade when Vacation Bible School rolled around. My brothers and I attended every year. It was great. Where else can you get fruit punch and sugar cookies just for saying a short passage or two from the Bible? As it turned out, everyone got juice and cookies regardless, but we didn't know that.
This particular year I recall a special guest coming for our assembly time. He was an artist, and he painted a picture right before our eyes. I loved art. Why, my kindergarten teachers felt I was gifted in art and encouraged my parents to take me to art school at one of the local museums. I went for a while. I'm not sure why the lessons ended, but I still carry a love of art with me today. Anyway, this guest artist painted a portrait of a resurrected Jesus standing at a door, knocking. He said something was missing from the painting. No one could guess what, although a few tried. Then the artist added the nail scars to the painting and presented a crucified, ascended Lord who is waiting for an invitation to come into our lives. I had a strange reaction, just like the joy and uneasiness that comes after placing the final piece in a 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle. I recall turning to my friends seated at my right and left and asking them if they were going to go forward during the invitation at the close of the worship service. They weren't coming, but that didn't stop me. I wanted Jesus, and I was ready for my special bath. The pastor said later in a conference with my mother that I almost beat the organist to the punch, I was down the aisle so quickly.
Well that's it -- my conversion experience. I can't say that I never fought with my brothers again, because I did. The frequency certainly went down though. For years, I thought my story just didn't measure up. When people would share their testimonies during youth rallies in high school, I never volunteered. Why, I'd have to stretch things just to fill a minute, so I thought. Only much later did I come to realize that a testimony is not only a list of facts or events leading up to becoming a Christian, but it includes any and all of life's situations which glorify God and His character.
It is expected of each and every Christian to have and share a testimony. If we are ashamed of Jesus, He will not acknowledge us before the Father in heaven. This generation is constantly asking, "What have you done for me lately?" All Christians should be ready and willing to answer if questioned, "What has God done for you lately?" It's funny that those who are busy serving others are the set that will always have an answer. How would you answer that question?
In the pages to come, I indirectly set forth three overpowering principles:
Please visit another workbench:
Randy's e-mail connection
reset 06/23/99