Happy Birthday to Me

On April 21, 1963, I met Jesus in the waters of baptism. Let me Clair-ify that. The church tradition I was raised in taught that a person did not get regenerated (aka saved) until the Holy Spirit did the job during the act of immersion into Christ. They did not teach that the water saved but that the water of baptism was the vehicle through which the Spirit saved. So, in my former way of thinking, I was saved when I got baptized.

I have since come to the realization that the Spirit does not always wait for a believer to “get wet” to perform the regeneration. The Bible makes it clear to me that repentance and confession causing one to place faith in Christ’s atoning sacrifice is sufficient unto salvation. In other words, I now believe that baptism is something that takes place after one has made a profession of faith. Baptism is an important, perhaps I would say necessary step of obedience, but I don’t believe failure to be baptized would keep a person from being saved. However, if someone refuses baptism after being told it is an important step of obedience, I would have to ask if that person has truly given his or her life to Christ. Why would one not obey a clear command of Scripture?

That said, I cannot give an exact date for when I became a Christian. I now believe that at some point prior to April 21, 1963, I understood my need for redemption and made a childlike submission to Christ. I know this because when I went forward on that fateful Sunday to be baptized, I already knew that Jesus was my Savior. The other thing that leads me to believe I had already been regenerated is that fact that I wanted to complete the steps my parents believed were required for salvation. I remember thinking that if I did not get baptized, I would not be following their prescription for salvation; I did not want to miss out on seeing them in Heaven one day. According to Paul, none of this would have been true for me had I not already been regenerated.

So, as I approach my sixtieth re-birthday, I am reminiscing about my life in Christ so far. I will say that I did not experience a dramatic conversion the way some people do. I was never a really bad boy, although I had my naughty moments. The worst thing I remember about my behavior is that I was a kleptomaniac. I realize that came from the sin of materialism (wanting, wanting, wanting things). I still battle materialism to a degree, although I haven’t stolen anything in decades. It wasn’t so much my coming to Christ that cured me as it was my father’s belt and my knowing I had failed him when he learned I had stolen from a classmate at school. My father’s words, “This hurts me more than it will hurt you,” made a life-long impression on me.

About ten years after I made a public profession of Jesus as my Savior, I learned that He was also supposed to be my Lord. This came about through the influence of two of my older sisters (I had four sisters). They became involved in the charismatic movement in a big way. They sent me tapes and took me to meetings when I visited them. I was skeptical of their radical claims concerning physical health and wealth (the prosperity gospel), and I remain so to this day. However, the thing that really struck me about my sisters’ faith was how seriously they took what the Bible has to say. They believed they were supposed to expect things in the Book to have an effect on our daily lives. Imagine that!

I had begun attending Bible college during my introduction to the charismatics, so I poured myself into study and prayer about its validity. I determined that their focus on miracles and material prosperity did not fit with the overall message of the Scripture. However, I did become convinced that the average Christian church was ignoring the power and provision of the Holy Spirit. (See Despising the Downpayment)  Along with my understanding of Jesus as Lord I began to practice the presence of the Holy Spirit as a guide and companion (the biblical term is paraclete). I was unsure what God wanted me to do with my life, so I fasted and prayed for guidance. On the second day of my fast, I heard a voice (it seemed real) saying, “You are a teacher.” That was reasonable since I had earned a teaching degree, but there were no job offers from the public schools.

It was at that time that I began my career as a Christian school teacher. Over the next twenty years I taught at several schools and went back to school myself and earned two master’s degrees with the intent of continuing to a doctorate. However, I became disenchanted with the way Christian education was being handled and suffered ministry burn-out. By that time, I had begun writing a Bible-based historical fiction novel, Wings of Mentridar, so I decided to become a long-haul trucker thinking in my downtime I could finish the book. I was planning a two-year sabbatical.

As it happened, I found I loved driving for a living, so my two-year break became twelve. I did finish the novel, but could not find a publisher, so I self-published. I continued writing and that became my ministry focus. I have since self-published several books, and my blog is approaching five hundred articles. My teaching is limited to Sunday school and Bible studies. When the economy caused my trucking business to collapse, I went back to teaching for my last few years before retirement. I ended my teaching career doing what I had always dreamed of: teaching teachers to teach English.

I have been “retired” for seven years now. I use the quotes on retired because during those years I worked part-time at Home Depot for three years, and I regularly do projects for people who sometimes pay me for the work. The park where we spend the winter in Arizona has seemingly selected me as the go-to handyman. We have several widows and divorcees, and I realized recently that I have helped most of them with one project or another. It seems that I have stumbled into fulfilling the biblical command to care for widows and orphans.

Near the end of his life, the Apostle Paul said, “I have fought the good fight, I have completed the race, I have kept the faith.” I have certainly fought – not always in a good fight. Sometimes I have fought against people who were trying to get something good through my thick skull; sometimes I have even fought against the Holy Spirit. As I finish my sixtieth year in Christ, I am asking myself if I have finished the race. I can also say with Paul, “I am hard pressed between the two options, having the desire to depart and to be with Christ, for this is very much better. But to stay on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake.” I have no death wish, but I do have an increasingly strong desire to be with Christ. However, as long as He has things for me to do here, I will stay in the race until I complete it. The one thing I can say is that through sixty years of mistakes, missteps, and misunderstandings I have kept the faith. I am looking forward to that glorious word, “Well done good and faithful servant….  Enter into the joy of your master!”