This Christmas got me thinking about – Why my faith is my faith.

I started off with the typical childhood belief in God. That was what I was taught and there was no reason to doubt it. I had a happy, “normal” childhood with terrific parents who loved me (and I knew it), good friends, good education, and not much to worry about except getting home in time for dinner and not getting caught doing something wrong (back then, every adult had parental authority).

When I was seventeen, my mother was diagnosed with Cancer and, in the 1970’s, that was typically a death sentence. Just a matter of time and keeping you comfortably sedated. My mom was “a saint”. By that, I mean she was loving, adored my dad and her family. I never heard her say anything negative about anyone, never had a sarcastic tone in her voice. Never even rolled her eyes at anyone. Two weeks after her diagnosis, she died.

I couldn’t understand why God would take her from us and leave so many awful people alive, so I just stopped believing in Him. It was very easy, actually and I didn’t miss having God “in my life”. Dad passed away exactly four years after Mom, he knew what day it was.

Fast forward eleven years and I’m married and have a beautiful son, Chris, own several businesses and have a lot of responsibilities – home, business, community. The “Great American Dream”. But something is not quite right. Chris isn’t developing the way he should.

We sell the house and businesses and move to Florida. The stress of learning about, and raising a special needs child is consuming, and exhausting. Amidst this, we have a beautiful little girl, Megh. She is the complete opposite of Chris, in her development and abilities. What an incredible child, yet the stress increases. I’m always asking, “Why?”

One day, somewhere in 1989, I just “cave”. I lean back in my chair at work, throw my hands in the air and say out loud, “OK, God. I admit it. You’re real. You’re in control, and I’m not going to ask, “Why?” anymore.

That was the beginning of my first big life shift. Things didn’t instantly get “all better”, nothing was magically fixed, but things were changing in me. In December of 1990, I accepted Christ as my Savior.

A lot of things have happened since then. Not all were good, but I had a way to deal with them, now. Fast forward to the present and while being 180 degrees from the man I was before 1990, I am truly at peace and trust God completely.

My pastor at Northland Church, Joel Hunter, said in his sermon yesterday, that God came as a child because a child can impact people in a way that someone else never could. He was so right. God took my Mom and I ran from Him. Years later, he gave me a child that drew… no, body slammed me right into his arms.

Once, when telling Steve Brown, of Key Life Ministries, about my concerns for some people in my life, he just said, “Steve, as much as you love them, God loves them even more, so you don’t have to worry about them.”Years later, I wrote a song for my son titled, “God Loves You Even More”.

Thanks God and Amen!


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