Early in my Christian walk I heard of God’s amazing grace and rejoiced. My impression of God was simply as a divine judge who was just waiting to sentence me to Hell. At an altar at nearly 22 years old I had surrendered my old self which many tears and true repentance. That night I went home feeling lighter and freer than I had ever remembered feeling. The following Sunday, wanting to rekindle that feeling I again went to the altar. I guess there was a bit of the law of diminishing returns. While it did feel good there was no comparison. Maybe it had more to do with having less to repent of the second week. Who knows? What I do remember is a couple of older saints poking fun at this kid who keeps coming to the altar. It is likely they meant it all in fun but I was confused. Because of an injury I was not able to go to work for several weeks, so I was at church every time the doors were open. I had established a pattern of reading the Bible. I faithfully read the Gospel of John as the man at the altar had recommended. The Gospels as a whole were my lifeline. I was shocked that many of the stories that I thought were Biblical stories were not in there, but even more surprising were all of the stories I had never heard. My heart was aflame with the love of Jesus.
But I did not really understand God’s grace. Maybe I still don’t fully grasp just how awesome it is. But there came a season there where I would sin in some way, knowing fully what I was doing. I totally ignored the Holy Spirit that was warning me, calling me to a higher standard. On several occasions I would literally repent as I continued in my sin. My cries of repentance overshadowing the still small voice of God. No longer did I feel a need to go to the altar at church. Fear overcame me that I would have to explain why I was there. Repentance was good enough from the safety of my private world. Secret sin grew within me and my sin became more and more willful. My mind said that I was saved and God always forgives so I will sin, read my Bible and go on.
The more I lived this life the more callous my heart became. One evening I was watching a movie that was filled with sin with a friend who was not a believer. I had been taking her to church in hopes of seeing her come to Christ. But here I was worshiping the idol of entertainment when her father walked in the room and said, “Is this what a man of God watches?” He too was not a believer but I had also tried to witness to Him of the love of Christ. In that moment shame overwhelmed me. He was correct. I was failing the one that died on the cross for my sins. I was living in willful sin. I had to change my life.
