I don’t remember too much from my childhood. Maybe it’s due to my car accident that I had when I was 18…or maybe life just moves that fast; so fast that I can’t really tell much difference from today and when I was 8. But certain things pop into my head: Christmas time with a dark room and a glowing tree, that always made me think that if Moses saw it it would give him flashbacks; or GI Joes; Indiana Jones; the terror of running over a snake on my bicyle; climbing trees and playing capture the flag. My foremost question is not “Where has time gone?” but “Where have I gone?” The preppy Jr Higher, has grown old and now and even has a silver hair on the left side of his head. “Man is but a vapor” is what the psalmist says.
One thing I can’t remember from childhood is when I exactly first received Jesus. I’ve always felt like He was a part of my life, and significant times of soul searching and relational bantor tapestry my mind. Emotional jumble of raising my hand for a prayer, talking to God in church services and feeling like He talked back, and His hand somehow held me when I was quiet and alone. It’s all run together really.
The first notably gut quaking experience was in High School. I was in a Mormon populated town, and lonely. I don’t remembering ever liking high school. I had a few friends and they were cool. I made some bad decisions, hung out with some people who made some bad decisions, but it helped me to develop me. One day though things were bad. I felt the weight of everything on me that morning. Some relational things were happening in my life and I was broken…and to make things worse I was late for the beginning of school. As I rode my motorcyle into the parking lot I heard the bell ring. Knowing that this made for another tardy, my heart sank. For sometime whenever I prayed I felt God say, “Give me everything.” I actually sort of avoided prayer because of that. I’d pray for something and God would say back, “Well, give Me you.” But this morning things were bad…I was wrecked. So, as I jumped off my motorcyle, I walked across wet grass (wet because it had been raining) I said a quick prayer. As I dragged my weak self accross the lawn behind the school, I heard the voice again…but this time contrasted by my weakened state, I heard it even louder: “Joel, give Me everything you’ve got.” This time I was desperate. I stopped dead in my tracks…and in the wet grass I hit my knees, and gave it all up. Everything. Every relational battle, every desire, hope, dream, failure, and victory. Over the years I took a lot of it back, and developed a habit of giving it up again. But that was the first time. The hopless morning on the wet lawn, just me, God and my new heart.