How Did I Get Here, Part 2

Having grown up in an evangelical Methodist Episcopal Church, South and hearing the Gospel taught and preached since birth, I developed an early and somewhat limited understanding of some key theological concepts.  Some of them learned before age 8 included:

The Sovereignty of God. Somehow I learned that God was in charge and I was not.  That is a concept I continually have to re-examine as I try to take control of life, especially my life.  I learned that "Our times are in His hands."  That was important to learn very early in life.

The Holiness of God.  I understood that God was entirely pure and holy and good and loving. I understood God desired holiness and purity and goodness and love from God's people.  These traits formed the basis for a relationship between the Creator and the created.

Original Sin.  In contrast to the Holiness of God, I learned that all humankind were sinners, inherited from our ancestors throughout the whole human race and from all time.  "There is none righteous, no not one." I soon discovered that I was included in this group of sinners, separated and alienated from God by our own sinful natures.

Salvation.  I learned that a supremely loving God made provision for the sinfulness of all humankind in the person and work of Jesus of Nazareth, God's Son and our Savior.

Faith Alone.  I learned that all God required of me in the gift of Salvation was to have faith in Jesus Christ.

Eternity.  I learned that God created us in God's image and placed in us a "never-dying soul."  This life is not the end.  I will live forever, in heaven or hell.  The deciding factor is faith in Jesus Christ.

Now I had a problem.  At 8 years of age I understood all that, perhaps not at the level I do today, but I understood it well enough to know that:
1. I was a Sinner
2. As such I was in danger of eternal damnation
3.  Jesus was the answer
4. I did not know how to receive that answer in my heart and life.

Hence, I was under conviction of the Holy Spirit who was leading me to Jesus.  I did not understand that then. I only understood I was miserable and afraid, in fact, scared to death, sick with fear.

At 8, I experienced the first death that touched me.  Distant great-grand-parents had died, but I hardly remembered them.  Distant cousins had died, but I did not know them at all.  But in December, 1960, Reno Smithwick died.  Reno was probably a distant cousin.  But I knew him as  the old retired farmer who rented an apartment from my Grandfather and lived across the street.  Reno was a devout Christian and was a song leader in our country church.  He always had time for a fat kid hanging out at the family store.  He gave me the first New Testament I ever owned, before I could even read it. He gave me my first pocket knife.  While one blade was broken, it was fantastic.  I was the first kid my age at that time to have his own pocket knife!

This devout Christian, kindly old Grandfather-figure died.  And I was faced with questions of eternal consequence.  I did not like the answers I was finding.  I knew where Reno was: Heaven.  I knew why: He believed in Jesus and trusted in him for salvation.  I knew I was lost and if I died I did not know what would happen, but I was pretty sure it was not good.

The funeral was on a cold and sleeting December Sunday.  I was sick with fear and questions and convinced my mother and father that I was too sick to go to church that morning.  Of course, I did not tell them the source of my sickness, but added to my guilt and sin by claiming to have a stomachache, the malady of every child who wants to get out of doing something.  Mother stayed home with me during church and during the funeral that afternoon. It was during the funeral she recognized what the sickness really was: I was sin sick.  She sat down with me and began to ask me what was wrong.  I finally confessed:  "Reno died and is in Heaven.  I don't know what would happen to me if I died."  She then shared the very simple "Plan of Salvation" and asked me if I wanted to ask Jesus to come into my heart.  I said I did and we knelt in the den floor at my Father's chair and Jesus came to live in my heart.  It was real then and it is real now.

While I have often denied my Lord and neglected his salvation and pursued my agenda for my life instead of his, I have always known that what happened on that cold Sunday afternoon was and is real.  Jesus took my sins away.  He came to live in my heart.  He gave me eternal life.  His Spirit witnessed to this new reality in my own spirit.  I KNEW it was real.  And it is.

In June of the next year I invited the first of many to follow Christ and he began his faith journey that day.  Since then I have been consumed with sharing the Good News.  As D.T. Niles said, "Evangelism is one beggar telling another beggar where to find bread." That afternoon in December I found the Bread of Life and continue to want to share it with others.