At the age of seven I think that I knew what I was doing when the pastor visited and I got dunked.

At the age of nine I believe that I knew what it was that I was going to eventually do when I grew up (preach).

Then something happened, or nothing happened, or both, but I became something far from what I thought I might eventually be…far from what I was designed to be…far from what I was called to be. It took almost as many years (15) to climb back to the place I could have been if not for the diversion.

It has caused me to deal with some pretty serious questions, of which I’m not sure I will ever be able to answer. Was I born again at age 7? Did I really know Jesus and the better question did Jesus really know me? If so, then why did I decide to follow such a destructive path from age 9 until age 24? Why, 15 years later, did I feel like I was born again for the first time? What went wrong? Could the Church have done something differently that would have redeemed 15 years of prodigal living?

I’m now spending the rest of my life trying to make sure that the same thing doesn’t happen to someone else. I want to make sure that the Revolution that happens, the Transformation that takes place becomes a lifestyle and not a one night stand. While I’m trying to answer my own questions I want to make sure that the Church makes sure that people are sure that an exchange has taken place, that a transformation has begun, that they have become a brand new creation, so new that they may even want a new name!

It’s too important to get it wrong! As you can see I have three reasons (four counting my wife), soon to be six (seven counting my beautiful bride), to get it right!