When The Bush Started Burning
 

Growing up in a middle class New York family with five brothers and sisters, both laughter and struggle were found in abundance. I was number four in line, so dealing with a mixture of insulation as well as sibling pressure were common. My parents stayed together through lean times and I always had a sense of security throughout my younger years. Though I regularly attended Sunday school, I rarely went to church and could count on one hand the number of times my parents attended. Still, there was an expectation that each of us would behave correctly and live in a way that wouldn’t embarrass the family.

 

But somewhere in the early teen years, I felt a need to rebel. I’m not sure what drove this desire, but I began to make more and more decisions that were less and less sound. My grades in school were laughable and the teachers who “had tried everything” had long given up on me. I failed at everything except causing trouble.

 

This rebellious life was most easily seen in the group of boys with whom I began to associate both in and out of school. Foolish activity and destructive behavior never searched long to find us. Stealing, fighting, and destroying property became a regular part of our time together. As long as I was with these “friends” I had a certain sense of security, safety, and acceptance. Outside of this circle, I felt deeply alone and insecure.

 

Intrinsically, I knew I was headed down the wrong path, but I really didn’t know how to change. My friends would protect me, and accept me for who I was or at least who they thought I was.

 

The turmoil in my life came to a head when myself and several other boys were suspended from school. This was one of the few times I was innocent, but my association with the others cast me in lot with them. It was here I first understood how desperately I needed to change.

 

The summer after my seventh grade year, I began to attend a coffee house in the basement of the neighborhood church. The welcoming atmosphere of music, food, and acceptance drew me in. I enjoyed everything that went on at the coffee house and looked forward to those Saturday nights. Possibly for the first time, I saw Christians living the Christian life apart from the formality of church. I believed in God and had a clear understanding of Christ. I knew a good deal about the Bible and Christianity, but I never seemed to link everything together in a format that was personal.

 

Then one night, it all made sense. I saw myself as a lost sinner with no hope of saving myself. I realized the direction my life was heading was taking me nowhere good and I knew that this God everyone was talking about really wanted to have a relationship with me. I also knew what I had to do and I knew how to do it.

 

That Saturday night, I went home and knelt in front of a chair in an upstairs room of our home. It wasn’t much of a prayer, but it was as sincere a prayer as this fourteen-year-old boy could muster. I told Jesus I knew who He was and I knew who I was. I knew He was God and I knew I was a sinner in need of forgiveness. I asked Him to forgive my sins, come into my life, and change me.

 

When I lifted my head I didn’t hear any trumpets or voices. My name was not written in the stars and there were no angels in the room. But deep within this young heart was a new soul. I just knew at that moment something in my life had been changed. I still faced the same problems I had before, but I knew that from then on, I wouldn’t be facing them alone.

 

My growth as a young Christian could hardly be measured. I did my best to avoid the boys I ran with, and tried to make new friends. I kept attending the coffee house and frequented church more often. My language changed and my desires followed. Still, I spent a great deal of time alone and kept my Christian convictions silent.

 

This continued throughout my high school days. I was popular and excelled in athletics but rarely let my personal walk with the Lord surface. My change in behavior was easily noticed, but my relationship with Christ was never given as the reason for the improvement.

 

Before leaving for college I determined that I would live for Christ both verbally as well as functionally. Shortly after arriving on campus, I got involved in a college Fellowship of Christian Athletes group and attended a solid Christian church. I began to grow in my walk with the Lord, and it soon permeated everything I did. My influence grew in time and I soon became a leader of several Christian groups.

 

Today, I continue my daily walk with Christ and enjoy greater influence for the Lord. I’m blessed to be married to a godly wife and enjoy watching our three children grow in their own relationship with the creator. I pastor a growing church in North Carolina and look forward to all the great things God has in store for us.

 

 It is with a thankful heart that I look back over thirty-five years ago, when the Lord reached down, touched this foolish heart, and started the bush burning in a way that will never go out.