On the 10th Day of Christmas...

I've been granted new life because of Christ and God's work of grace as my 10th grade salvation experience will testify. That story is remarkable because it's my story. I didn't always have this opinion though. Early on, I was content to believe that my experience of faith was ordinary and anti-dramatic. As my faith matured and my knowledge of who God is expanded, my opinion changed.

I was an average kid I guess, with typical youthful tendencies and attitudes. Even though I had grown up in the church I was confused about what it meant to be a follower of Christ. My understanding was that attendance on Sunday was sufficient. As I got older, I struggled with direction and wrestled with identity (as most youth do I suppose). In the fall of my sophomore year in high school I met a classmate named Rodney Prater. We had an art class together and this meeting and the subsequent time spent as classmates set in motion a bigger story of what God was doing in my life. Our interactions together seem innocent enough, especially to outsiders who might have been paying attention. Although casual, our conversations and the way he conducted himself played big in my mind. Questions started to form but not to the extent where I was prepared to ask.

It was Super Bowl Sunday that year when he was on his way to his youth group Bowl party. Of course, being January, it was dark and the Kentucky country roads are as straight as a silly straw. Driving to the party, he rounded a bend in the road to fast and crashed head on into a electric poll. His car sunk down off the road and into the ditch below the road above. A day had passed before he was found. It was assumed by the medical professionals that he died upon impact. When the news broke, I was devastated.

It was at this point that the questions that had begun to form were now concrete and demanding my response. I couldn't understand why a person like Rodney, a serious and faithful follower of Jesus, would be gone this way, and so soon.

The only thing I knew to do at this point was to ask the questions out loud. I sought out the pastor of the church I attended each Sunday and began unwrapping the hurt and confusion and fear. The only thing he could do for me was to present to me again who Jesus is, and in this context, the message started to make sense. Shortly after, I decided to be a serious Jesus follower. I believed.

I am convinced that God's plan all along was to use Rodney Prater's life and death to get to me. There are probably others that can make this same boast. My faith story is big-time, as are all stories of salvation, because God brought me from death to life.