Christians were hypocrites. My friends and I used to laugh at church people and their odd behavior. I suppose we thought we were smarter or more sophisticated than good ol' Midwestern Christian folk.
I went off to college and lived as you might expect. I joined a fraternity and kept a busy social life at my state university.
But then something happened. My girlfriend ditched me for a guy with a red Mustang Boss 302. I can't say I blame her. My Ford Pinto was a rolling embarrassment. I suppose I got depressed. Which is pathetic, really, that the affections of one person could have such control over my self image.
My method for dealing with my despair was all I knew to do: run. The summer after my freshman year in college, I would come home from my job spreading 300-degree asphalt, put on my tennis shoes and run.
My standard 5-mile route took me into the wheat fields of northern Oklahoma. The heat, dust and strain of exercise was my coping mechanism. Frankly, it wasn't very effective.
But my route took me by an interesting landmark. A cemetery. This cemetery caught my attention as I went by. At the entrance was a statue of Christ, arms extended, with the words engraved beneath: "Come unto me ye who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." I knew those words were about death, but they spoke to me. Each day, as I ran by, I pondered Christ's invitation.
Until one day I stopped running. I stood in front of that cemetery, looking at that statue through watery eyes. I walked toward it, dropped to my knees, and my entire frame shook with weeping. And then I said the first real prayer of my entire life: "Jesus, I don't know much about you, but I know I need you."
No altar call. No tracts. No threats of hell. No high-pressure service at youth camp or some stadium. Just me, broken, and Jesus, arms extended. I got up and kept running.
A few days later, as I sat on the hood of my friend's Chevy Nova, I tried to explain to him what had happened to me. Because something had changed. I had begun a new life -- a new relationship with God -- and I did not even know there was such thing as a Holy Spirit.
If you are looking for a new start this year, I hope my story is helpful to you. Since that moment, my life has changed dramatically. But not just becoming a churchy person. I pray, becoming more like Christ. And all it took was a broken person crying out in a simple, honest way to Jesus.
Come unto me all ye who are weary ...
-- Matthew 11:28
NAN Religion on 01/03/2015