I grew up in a religious family, and attended church regularly as a child. I never really could understand though, what they were talking about. They taught that you have to be saved or you would go to hell. Then, after you were saved, if you sinned you would go to hell. Well, actually, they were not sure if anyone would get to heaven, but you have to be the best you could just in case.

Even as a child this made little sense to me, but Ive always had a curiosity about spiritual matters.

As a teen, there was the Jesus movement. A lot of hippies got into Jesus, and it was a really cool movement. I got into that, because it gave me an outlet for my desire for spiritual things. I always knew the truth of Jesus and God and so forth, I just could not understand. So this fuzzy, warm, loving thing seemed good. Again, though, it had little power.

In college, I studied journalism and English. I was the sensitive artist type. Later on, I got into photography and found that I had some talent there. I had no intention of going into the newspaper business. I wanted to be an artist.

I was in and out of college Christian fellowships. But, while there, I joined up with the Navigators, which is a ministry of the Presbyterian Church.

For the first time, I began to understand some theology. Things started to make sense, as I learned about things like grace. I began to see that the Bible actually makes a lot of sense, and Christianity is a reasonable thing. It makes sense and there are logical proofs, if not physical proofs.

I took a liking to theology even then. I do lean toward the intellectual side of things, and I don’t apologize for that. I studied a good bit, but somehow, there was no power. I was still trying to live the Christian life in my own strength and failing miserably.

Even tough I loved the intellectual stimulation of study, and hanging out with other Christians who were also studying a lot, I still had a taste for the things of the world.

I had no power to say no to anything really. I loved partying, drugs, sex and rock and roll, and I drifted that way at times. I always felt bad after, and was sure that God was going to get tired of me messing up after awhile.

After college, I ended up with a job in the newspaper business in Arkansas. There I knew no Christians, and never really got into a church to speak of. I gradually fell back into the world, into the partying lifestyle. It was good, but there was always this gnawing feeling that I was doing wrong. No matter how good the drugs, or how beautiful the girl, I still wasn’t satisfied. I even knew what the problem was. The problem was, that I had shut God out of my life, and even though I did not know what to call it, it was the Holy Spirit putting me under conviction.

This was a time of great confusion. I knew I was doing wrong, but I also knew that there was no way I could be perfect. I had always been taught that if you were a Christian you had to be perfect of God would disown you. I had always been taught that you lost your salvation the minute you sinned.

Well it did not take me long to figure out that I could not stay saved very long. I finally decided to try to just wait until I was about to die and try to get saved again and hope for the best.

I did study the bible some in those days, but I usually just came up with more questions than answers.

I remember reading in John, where Phillip I think it was, said to Jesus “if you are the Messiah tell us plainly” and I remember Jesus saying back to him that he was surprised that Philllip could have been with him so long and not know.

I threw my bible down and asked God why he had to speak in riddles. I wanted to know the truth, but it eluded me.

I tended to irritate the few pastor and Christians that I met. They seemed to think I was anti-Christian, but really, I just had questions that needed answering.

I had no doubt as to the existence of God, but I had severe doubts about Jesus being the only way. I also could never grasp the message of Christianity. I understood that you had to confess your sins and invite Jesus into your heart. Well I had done that a million times. I had done it until I was sick of doing it. I would do it and nothing would happen.

A few times, I did feel better, but then in a few days I would sin again and thought it was over.

It also bothered me that I could find none of this in the Bible, but I knew that I really did not know that much about it. Of course, it also bothered me that I could not find a believer who could answer my questions.

Eventually I just gave up.

I threw myself into my work. I became a sports writer, and a very good one at that.

I worked for several papers in Arkansas through the 1980’s. Life was good. I was so busy I did not have to deal with the nagging thoughts in my spirit, and the tug of the Holy Spirit. I knew that if I could I would respond to Jesus, but I just did not know how. I wanted to be saved, to be a Christian. I had invited Jesus into my heart so many times; I guess I decided that He just was not interested in me.

So, my work became increasingly important. I won numerous awards as a sport writer, and moved up in the business. I was well liked by people in the sports profession and by people in the newspaper business, so I felt I had a very good life going.

When this God thing got to be too much, I would drown it in alcohol or marijuana, or a nice girl if I could find one.

In 1987 I did meet someone though, who nearly got through. He actually listened to my questions and took a stab at some answers. I did start to understand that God does not expect us to be perfect, and that he is forgiving and loving. Still, there was no power.

Also in 1987, late in the year,, I had been recruited by a certain newspaper, and I had turned them down. They finally offered me so much money that I could not turn it down. When I got there, still in Arkansas, the job was so horrible I quit after three weeks. The person who hired me had lied about just about everything. I was betrayed, and I never knew why they did that to me.

So I was suddenly out of work. The focus of my life, being a sportswriter, was gone.

And, when you are broke, it is amazing how many friends get scarce, not to mention how scarce the women get.

I was in the depths, in Little Rock, Arkansas, broke, during the winter. No job really, just odd jobs. I took in a roommate. A few times, we had to choose between electricity for lights and gas for heat. Somehow, we made it through

I prayed a lot and read a lot during these times. I began to grasp some theological concepts, but I was also being influenced by some Eastern mysticism. I was also influenced some by my roommate who was in a cult. I knew neither of those things held the truth; I do not know how I knew that, I can only say I did.

I began to get a good head knowledge of what the scriptures said. I tended to end up using that against most Christians that I knew, mostly to just keep them at arms length.

But during that time, I did earnestly pray God to reveal himself to me, to just let me know who he was what the real deal was.

Early in the summer of 88, I got a job in Texas as a news editor.

It was not a fun job, but it did pay the bills and at least with that I was employed again.

After six months or so, that job began to sour. I wanted something else. I was still praying for God to reveal himself to me, to show me the truth. I still read my bible some, but they were just words on a page.

At the end of 88 I think it was, I started looking for a new job.

At one point early in 89, I had two job offers. One was in Dallas Texas, and the other was in South Carolina. The one in Texas promised to put me back into the rock and roll sports writer lifestyle that I loved. There would be a good amount of money, plenty of drugs and women, and most of all, great sports to write about. I would be covering the Dallas Mavericks professional basketball team. A dream come true. The South Carolina job was at a small paper in the middle of nowhere, and the money was not real good. I would be covering small high schools. I knew no one there, and the thought of a real fresh start did have an appeal.

One afternoon, just as I was about to call the guy in Dallas and accept the job, I was laughing about the ridiculous offer from the paper in South Carolina. But as I did something struck me.

The words ripped through my mind and sent cold chills up my spine. My hands shook, I was breathing hard, I thought I was having a heart attack. I had never been so scared in my whole life. It was like just a flash of lightning in my mind, but I knew that God had spoken.

I only knew that the voice had said “Choose you this day who you will serve.”

You can imagine my shock a few years later when I discovered Joshua 24:15.

I just had this strange sense that God was going to answer my prayers, that He was going to reveal himself to me. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew that answer lie in South Carolina and not in Dallas. I knew that it would get drowned out if I went to Texas.

So I looked up to Heaven and prayed, telling God that I wanted to serve him and I would take the lousy job in South Carolina. I felt a peace immediately like I had never felt in my life.

The guy in Dallas was incredulous that I was turning him down. He even offered me more money. I couldn’t explain to him why, and that was all I told him… That I could not explain it.

The paper in South Carolina was surprised that I had accepted their offer, but they were pleased.

The peace stayed with me, In three weeks I was in the small South Carolina town, about an hour from Hilton Head Island.

The job there was ok, but it was a little boring. One day I went to Hilton Head Island, and found the newspaper there. Just on a whim, I went inside and asked if there were any sports writing jobs available. I felt the strangest warmth inside myself as I did that, and I wondered what it could be.

They said no, but invited me to send them a resume and come clippings. They knew of the little paper I was working for, and seemed to not think it too bad.

I sent in my material, and a few months later, one day, they called me and offered me a job. The money was fabulous and the job was even better. I would be writing about golf and tennis on Hilton Head Island. All my life I had wanted to live on the beach. My dream in the early 80’s was to be a sports writer on the beach, and that dream came back to me.

After moving over to Hilton Head, things happened quickly.

I loved the job and the people there. It was just too cool to be believed. Yet there was still something missing. I was still haunted by that day in Texas when I had heard the voice, but I did not have a clue as to what to do about it.

One day while walking on the beach, I ran into this guy and we were talking. He invited me to this Christian Coffeehouse that Friday night. I went, it was nice. They had good music and no one was preaching at me, so it was fun. Then he invited me to his church.

Now this guy was unlike any Christian I had ever met. He didn’t seem to notice that I was smoking a cigarette every few minutes, or that I drank two beers while we talked on the beach that first day. He also didn’t seem to mind my swearing either. At that time, I used curse words with nearly every sentence. He just smiled at me a lot, and invited me to talk.

I was intrigued.

He invited me to church, so I went.

It was a Pentecostal church, very small. It was a new church in rented quarters. There were only 10 people there and the pastor seemed like a real nice person too. He gave me his phone number and told me to call if I needed any thing.

One day I did call, and started in with my questions, and to my amazement, he answered most of them, or at least gave me a starting point. He was not bothered by my questions at all, and even encouraged me to question even deeper. It was not that he knew all the answers, but just the fact that he was willing to listen to my questions without judging them, was just so amazing.

Now ill admit I was taken aback a bit by the charismatic things. I had never seen this sort of thing before. People were dancing around, jumping and shouting, crying, laying on the floor. The music was loud. I had never been in a church that had guitars, drums and horns before.

However, when I was in that church, I felt that strange warmth I had felt that first day I was on the island. I also realized it was the same peace that I felt when I had turned that paper in Dallas down. I understood none of this, but I knew it was God… and I was going along for the ride.

After a few weeks in the church, I told the pastor that I was ready to receive all that God had for me. He explained that, we have to die to ourselves, surrender our lives to God, and allow God to work in us. He said there is no way we can live a righteous life and God never intended for us to. He said what God wanted, was to enter our lives and live that life through us. I wasn’t sure I understood, but I did get the general picture.

We prayed together, and for the first time, I actually felt that God was listening. I cried uncontrollably for a long time. I felt the years of guilt fall away.

The next day in church I walked the aisle, and said that sinners prayer again, and this time I meant every word. In fact, I couldn’t wait to walk the aisle. Even though the pastor had told me that I was saved when I surrendered my life to Christ, it was not totally real to me until I went up front publicly to declare my faith.

When I did that, the elders laid hands on me and prayed over me in tongues. I did not speak in tongues, but I swear, I knew what they were praying. In their prayer I heard God tell me that he loved me and that he accepted me. He told me he had plans to prosper me.

I count that as the day that I got saved. However, one of those many times even as a child might have counted for all I know.

For the first, time the scriptures made sense. I could understand the words. I had a voracious appetite for the scriptures. I read for an hour in the morning and another hour in the evening. I was praying often, and the Lord was always on my mind.

It did take some time, but I was being transformed.

I could not explain the things that were happening to me.

I quit listening to my acid rock radio station, and started listening to Christian Radio because that was what I wanted to do. I went home and prayed or read the scriptures, or hung out with other Christians instead of hitting the bars. Actually I don’t even remember deciding to change those things, they just changed by themselves.

I was so excited about church. I couldn’t wait to get there, and I was always sad when it was over and time to go. But soon I realized I could carry the Holy Spirit with me anywhere I went.

I could just see myself becoming a different person. People, even non Christians, remarked on how my demeanor had changed. I was no longer this intense person who would cut your throat out if you crossed him. I was smiling all the time, and I just looked so peaceful and relaxed that people noticed.

I did have some problems though, and I got into serious counseling with another pastor. The pastor at the charismatic church recommended this other pastor, who was very good. I “got in touch” with myself so to speak, Resolved many emotional and spiritual conflicts, and just really became a totally new person.

For a few years I grew in grace and knowledge of the lord. I began studying theology again, and started reading the old masters. I also started studying Greek and Hebrew to a point. Just as I had once thrown myself into sports writing and it became my life, Now the scriptures were my life.

I even made Christians crazy at times because I would hardly talk about anything else but something new I had seen in the Bible that day.

By 1993 I was ready to go to seminary.

I felt called to the ministry, and so we headed out to Columbia to start school.

God provided part time newspaper jobs here in Columbia, and my wife worked, and I stayed in school three years,

Seminary did dampen my spirit to a point…But I did love seminary, studying in incredible depth and detail the things of God. The scriptures became even more alive to me as I began to realize just how reliable they are, and I saw the evidence that supports them.

I got a masters degree, and had three years of Greek along the way.

Greek was hard, but it was worth it.

After seminary, I was surprised to find that I could not get a church job.

I was despondent and began to fall into depression.

I felt God had pulled the rug from under my feet.

But after awhile I began to understand that he called me to a ministry of writing, and not to a ministry inside the church.

Soon I began writing for God, and it has gone extremely well.

I write curriculum, lesson plans, Sunday school lessons, devotionals, some bible commentary, and that sort of thing. I have been published by Gospel Union, Lifeway (Baptists), David C Cook, Standard Christian Publishing, and Christian Ed Publishers.

I am also working on two books.

And now there is this website and the weekly emailed studies.

I do tend to lean towards the intellectual side of things. My beliefs are not very radical, pretty much main line Christian, though I don’t agree with conservative politics very much. My most radical belief is that as Christians we have no need of politics to accomplish the mission of God.

I still have a newspaper job, but hope to quit that eventually, and write full time for God.

But this does keep me with a foot in the secular world, and maybe God likes thatJ

I seem to be able to take complex theological concepts, grasp the easily, and explain them in ways that people can understand. That is a gift from god. Even writing is a gift.

I cant take credit for anything.

The only decent thing I ever did was when I surrendered to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.

He has been faithful to do the rest.