This morning was a complete disaster in our home. The home we share with two little people who find deep delight in messing up our very well-planned schedules. Packing lunches, changing diapers, finding monster trucks, and brushing hair. Phew. Let’s just say that we were 13 minutes late for drop off at school today. When my son’s teacher said, “I hope you have a good day today,” I’m pretty sure I grunted.
It wasn’t too long ago that I found myself, once again, starting my day in the exact opposite way than what I wanted. How’s that? Slouched over in my bed. Holding up my bright phone to my squinting eyes. Scrolling through news, social media, texts, and email. You know the feeling! The eye strain is real at 6am.
And if emotional and spiritual health are interrelated, I was not in a good place with either. Especially this early in the morning.
I like writing. Really, I like words in general. I keep a book of crossword puzzles next to my bed, I start every morning with Wordle, and I’m the Boggle champion in our family. Words are kind of my jam. So when I first stepped into my role on the Communications team here at IBC, one of the things that excited me most was the prospect of writing more. What I didn’t expect was how much joy I’d find in helping others shape and share their own words.
In recent weeks at IBC, we’ve been discussing the importance of wrestling with our own personal past—our life story—to better understand our present and God’s intentions for our future. This is a vitally important part of our ongoing spiritual growth and development. God has made us who we are through the formative experiences and relationships of our lives: though our heritage, our heroes, our high points, and our hard times.
When I first came to Christ, I was at my lowest point in life (or so I thought at the time). I was homeless, I badly needed a bath, and I had survived a convoluted suicide attempt. I found myself at the Union Rescue Mission in downtown Los Angeles after having made a trek across the country, starting from New York City in mid-December of 1979.
Do you remember when you decided to follow Jesus? For some of us, that was 70 years ago. For others, it might have been just a few months ago. For me, it was Spring Break of 1987.