A Testimony

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One of the things those called to ministry do is an exercise called The River of Life. In it we are asked: “If you were able to compare your life with a river, what would the river look like?” The exploration became even more meaningful to me, and intensely personal, as the following four additional questions were presented.

• When and where are the smooth, flowing waters – those times when events and relationships seem generally positive or there is a sense of ease about life? 

• When does the river take a sudden turn (and what caused the turn), or change from smooth waters to rough, tumbling rapids, or to an excited rush of water?

• Are there rocks or boulders falling into your river – unexpectedly landing there, changing its direction forever?

• Are there points at which it flows powerfully and purposefully or seems to slow to a trickle?

At one retreat we were asked to present drawings of our rivers. I was surprised as the youngest among us held up sketches that seemed very short whereas mine had two pages of tributaries. Then again, I’m sure our angels were amused by the fact that, on the scale of Eternity, I somehow thought my life was long.

The tributaries for my river featured the occasional puddle that I associated with being house broken. There were also refreshing springs that I remember as sweet tasting. But, by far, the thing I remember most is people, from all walks of life, talking to me. These were the babbling brooks. And I wasn’t listening. Well, every once in awhile a message might seep in.

I distinctly remember the phrase “You’re not listening!” as spoken by my parents, my teachers, and many others in authority over me. As I reflect upon these earliest impressions, I realize I wasn’t really goal oriented but, in light of how God has ordered my steps, I’m hesitant to characterize my life as one of aimless wandering.

When I decided I really wanted something, I was willing to work hard to get it. When I found a radio station that I really liked, I developed the strategy, mapped the tactics, and secured the licensing necessary to have them give me a job. In between high school and my all too brief college career, I literally rocked around the clock with afternoon shows. an all night show and another one on Saturday mornings. I was high on sleep deprivation and little white pills. Then it all came crashing down as my high school sweetheart dumped me. My immediate response was to go into the station’s record library and pull every love song I had ever heard. Friends and other listeners described the six-hour show as a rock opera. For me, one song in particular stood out. It was by Simon and Garfunkel and included the chorus “I’ve just been fakin’ it, not really makin’ it.” I was finally listening.

What ensued was a two year program of soil conditioning wherein God prepared my heart for the seed that would finally take hold in 1972. The surreal would soon give way to an enthusiastic embrace of total reality. God used it in my life, and I can clearly see just how the river of that young life took a sudden turn. One night, as the Who song Baba O’Riley was playing and the chorus “teenage wasteland” was ringing in my ears. I thought “how fitting” as the music stopped abruptly and the singer screamed “They’re all wasted!”

I remember thinking; “I don’t wanna be wasted.” This was the actual tipping point or, as I often think of it, my Deuteronomy moment wherein God said: “I set before you life and death, therefore choose life.” There was another song. It was not a chart topper, but even so, it would often seem to be playing in the places I would frequent. The chorus of this particular Moody Blues composition included the line: “When all the stars are falling down, into the sea and on the ground, and angry voices carry on the wind; a beam of light will fill your head, and you’ll remember what’s been said, by all the good men this world’s ever known.” 

Somehow, whenever I heard “the good men,” I would think of Jesus. I didn’t know anything about Him and I developed an insatiable appetite for reading about Him, listening to songs about Him, and having Him orchestrate my thoughts. My re-birth in 1972 was brought about through a long labor. I knew from the get-go that my life would forever be about sharing the Gospel of Jesus! I was grateful for my lowly origin as well as my capacity for experience. I became a counselor, of sorts, to those who were struggling with the modern pleasure mania. I shared my experience, describing how Jesus encouraged me to make healthier substitutions. Instead of reaching for a cigarette, I reached for the guitar. I gravitated towards music that was meaningful to those, “with ears to hear,” including the new me.

I traded a life with no discernible goal orientation to one with a career that was informed, and inspired by, the concept of service throughout Eternity. I envisioned a career that is lived under the continuing influence of the same person that rescued me from the depths of despair. Under the direct tutelage of the Spirit of Truth, we will each learn to master the essentials of the eternal career. For there is no higher reality than that which is lived in the presence of God.

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