In my last blog I shared some of my life story. If you read that particular post, then you know now (if you didn’t before) that my life was a self-made mess. I was so self-centered and self-absorbed that I developed the worst type of tunnel-vision imaginable. It was all about me. No one else really mattered. I had reached the point in my life that I was willing to lose it all if it would facilitate my attaining my goals.

And then, the unexpected happened. After a night of partying – with beer, liquor, and marijuana – I got up that Thursday morning harboring yet again another hangover. I tried to ignore the massive head-ache, got dressed for work, and headed out. As I made that fifteen mile drive that morning, I all of a sudden realized I was not alone. There was a presence with me that I had never experienced before. And then came the voice! Don’t get me wrong, it was not an audible voice. I am quite certain that had you been riding with me that morning you would not have heard Him speaking. It was a very personal message. A message intended for me. And, it was really a very simple message. It all of a sudden came crashing down on me that I had truly made a mess  of my life. In making that mess, I had also made life pretty miserable for others.

My wife, Teresa, had put of with four years of marital misery. Oh, there were some fun moments, some bright spots in those four years. But for the vast majority of those years she had watched as I self-destructed. There had been so many arguments, so many disagreements, so many times I had made very clear to her that she was not the priority she should have been. And then there was our son, Bryan. He had suffered from an absent father. I was there physically, but my physical presence certainly did not make me a father.

But that morning – that wonderful, life-changing morning – my life was radically transformed. I listened to that voice. I went to work that morning a different person. I went home that evening with such excitement and joy. I had never experienced anything like it. I couldn’t explain it. I just knew that things were going to be different from that moment on.

I went home, expecting Teresa to share in my new-found joy. She, however, did not meet my announcement as I had expected. She was rather skeptical, unbelieving, and less than excited. I shared with her my desire to attend church on Sunday morning. She laughed. I assured her I was not joking. She laughed. I tried my best to persuade her that I was being sincere. She laughed.

I continued on Friday morning trying to convince her. She laughed. Friday evening I once again told her of my desire to go to church. She quit laughing. At this point I’m not sure what she was thinking, but she was no longer laughing. There may have been a bit of fear, a sense of anxiety, because she had never witnessed such action from me. Church had always been a joke for both of us. All day Saturday I tried to persuade her, to convince her, to compel her to attend worship with me. She refused.

So, I went alone. I walked in just before the service started. I sat on the back row. I didn’t want to draw any attention. I wanted to be invisible. After the worship hour was concluded, and everyone had filed out, I remained. I asked the pastor if I could have a minute of his time. Kelly Burris had visited my home on several occasions, with the desire to share the message of the love of Jesus Christ with me and Teresa.

We made an appointment for Kelly to visit in our home on Tuesday evening, September 13, 1977. Teresa was not thrilled when I informed her of this appointment. She did, however, agree to be there when Kelly arrived.

Patiently, graciously, lovingly, Kelly talked with us from 7:00 until 10:45 that Tuesday evening. Actually, his visit lasted a little longer than that, but something amazing happened at 10:45. That was the exact moment at which Jesus Christ became our Savior, and invaded our home as Lord. It was nothing short of miraculous.

Had you known me and Teresa prior to September 13, 1977, Christian is not a word that would have come to mind. Had you known me, you would have never thought that I would ever become a believer in Jesus Christ. But the moment after, our lives changed so drastically that there was no doubt in the fact that we were distinctly different.

When September 13 of this year rolls around, my wife and I will have been Christians 41 years. Yes, we had decided to divorce and go our separate ways, but at 10:45 pm that wonderful evening, we saw each other through the lens of faith. We extended grace to one another, and have been doing so ever since.

No, our lives have certainly not been perfect. Far from it. But by His grace we have seen Him move in our lives in such wonderful ways it is truly beyond my ability to describe. I’ll close by making one final statement. It was just the other day that Teresa looked me in the eyes and said, “I love our life!” And I do, too. But had it not been for the grace of our wonderful Father in heaven, we never would have had this life to love. By His grace we came together, by His we stayed together, by His grace we are together.

And that, my friend, is the rest of the story!