Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Romans 3:23

I grew up in a Christian home, went to a Christian School, and even had a part time job at the Church. All in a very Christian community where the question is not “do you go to Church” but “What Church do you go to?” I understood a lot about Daniel, David, Moses, and Jesus. I did not understand much about the Holy Spirit.

In college I had more freedom. I lived a good life, I do not remember a single event that might have gotten me arrested, except maybe trespassing while looking for railroad grades in the woods. But some events opened my eyes. With some friends we took this innocence test, the higher the score the more of “life” you have experienced. I was surprised, I had the highest score by far, and I was the only regular Church attendee of the bunch.

During the rest of that school year I began to rethink some things I had done, I might have called them love, God referred to them as sin. I though long and hard about what it meant to be a Christian, and I knew it involved faith, not just knowledge. So one night I lay broken on the floor of my dorm room asking for Jesus to enter my heart. He did and I changed because he is there.

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