I prefer my puns intended

Because life can be punny.

Atheism is a non-prophet organization…

By

Sometimes, I imagine that I am back at the University of Georgia.  I remember those lazy mornings as I tumbled out of bed, took a quick shower, put on some sort of jeans and walking shoes and catching the bus to the Student Learning Center.  To my right, I got to peer into the most sacred of places on campus, Sanford Stadium, and dream of those Georgia Saturdays as I walked toward a big lecture hall to pretend to pay attention.  All the while, I was planning a big weekend with friends and dreaming about the delicious nap I would take before going to my part-time job hustling cell phones.

Standing in my favorite stadium…

Proud graduate of UGA

Those were the days.  I still remember my first taste of freedom; my first home-away-from-home.  There was, however, another day that I vividly remember that reoccured every year.

That day was and is known as the “Tate preacher” day.  All University of Georgia grads know exactly what I am talking about.  Even if you didn’t attend the University of Georgia, you probably know what I am talking about.

The news spread like whispers of a private concert at the forty watt…those crazy zealots are littering the Tate plaza with slogans like, “God hates sports fans,” (a great way to bring UGA students to Jesus…) and “fornicators go to hell,” (an equally great way to bring UGA students to Jesus).

I remember watching all students…Christians and Atheists alike…argue with these preachers about the words in the Word and the character of Christ.  For one day, Christians and non-Christians stood united against these preachers that seemed to be spewing hatred rather than the words of Jesus.

For whatever reason, these preachers got all of us talking about God.  We would sit on the East-West discussing how ridiculous it all was…and how unlikely their words were to bring any of us to the throne of Christ.  Of course, none of us used that vocabulary.

There is something that makes Christians feel like we are being those preachers when we share our most intimate of stories that led us to Christ.  All of us want to adhere to social norms that allow us to grow deeper in relationship with each other, but many Christians hesitate when it comes to sharing our faith.  We simply do not want you to think that we are imposing our ideals on anyone, and the last thing we want to do is alienate our dearest friends for the sake of sharing the one person that has transformed every part of our lives.

On this Good Friday, I choose to share five parts of my personal story that led me to Jesus. When I say personal, I mean that it is just my story.  It is what I believe because God has revealed himself to me in many of my greatest trials and held me together when all the world pointed to me falling apart. At the risk of sounding like an evangelist…here it goes…

Click to link to The Good Life blog
One:
I came to know Christ because my mom modeled Christ in everything that she did.  Each morning she would wake up smiling and took care of each one of her four children with a joy that was never ceasing.  She loved us; and not in the “I-just-want-to-snuggle-you-all-day” kind of way…although sometimes she did.  She loved us in the “I-will-not-relent-until-you-know-the-love-of-Jesus” way.  She would celebrate our accomplishments and admonish our failures.  She would always set aside time to teach us about Jesus, but I already knew him because she lived her faith.  She remains the most joyfully submissive Christian I have ever known.
Two: 
I lived my faith as a child, and as a teenager, I began to wander.  I wanted SO badly to be accepted and sacrificed my testimony as a result.  Some of my friends may have identified me as a Christian, but looking back, I was a very poor representation of what a Christian should look like.  I was impulsive, rude, impatient, and unforgiving.  I hurt so many people in my quest to become well-liked, which is one of the greatest ironies of being a people-pleaser…you end up pleasing no one…not even yourself.  
Three:
My wandering and questioning began when I lost a dear friend to suicide.  Her death remains one of the biggest turning points in my life.  The ending of her life marked a little death of my faith.  I could not understand how God could find glory in any of .  I struggled extensively with this for years.  To an extent, I still struggle with unresolved issues from her death. Still, I consider her story as a big part of my story.  I love that I get to affirm fourteen and fifteen year olds for a living.  I love that each day, my words have the opportunity to tell my students that they are loved and valued beyond measure.  I consider it a huge part of why I do what I do.
Four:
By the time I went to college, I had returned to Christ vowing to live for him, and give up frivolous pursuits.  I did not want to drink underage or do anything that may defame his name.  This turning point came about after a particularly scary night that I have not spoken about with more than a handful of people in my life.  In the fall of 2004, I was on fire for Christ.  By the spring of 2005, that fire had become a small burning ember because of the sting of not being accepted by a group of Christians…or at least that is what I perceived.  I felt slighted as Christ’s own body rejected me and I turned to relationships that may not have been the healthiest for me…or them for that matter.
Five:
Like one of the two convicts hanging next to Jesus on the cross, I begged Jesus to show himself and save me…metaphorically.  I was haughty and impatient and I wanted something to work that wasn’t supposed to.  I was in a relationship for a long time that was not edifying to either one of us.  We were two people who loved Jesus, but our relationship did not bring glory to him.  We hurt each other…sometimes for the sake of hurting each other.  That relationship remains a big regret, not because it happened, but because I was not who I should’ve been.  Right before it ended, I had a moment of total surrender (in the spring of 2009).
I asked God to take my life in its entirety.  I was ready to go anywhere and do anything in order to praise him for the rest of my life.  I asked him to take my job, family, and relationships and re-route my life completely. 
And he did.  Faithfully, God came to my rescue, simply because I began to seek him.  Like the other convict, I began to trust that God is who he says he is and for that reason, God redeemed my life.
Life has not been perfect since.  I still struggle in many different areas, but now I live life with God at the helm.  I have been blessed immeasurably by a man who died to take away all of my sins. I could not be more humbled that Jesus took on the burden of my sins and has delivered me from myself. 
This Good Friday, I hope that you consider that many of us (Christians) have very similar experiences of God as our rescuer.  Despite the mire we create in our lives, God wants to tell all of us that we are loved more than we could ever imagine.  In the meantime, try to ignore those pesky “Tate preachers” that drive you away from what God really intends to tell you on this day.