This is my story, as told by me. I am a new found Christian... that's what I call myself because I am the sheep that got lost along the way. I believe I've always known The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. After all, I attended a Lutheran school through 4th grade. But my family life never reflected what was taught in school.
I have two children, and they're the best children in the world in my eyes (not that I am a little biased.) My kids are kind, polite, able to think on their own, gracious and respectful. Not to mention very intelligent. I am so proud of them. I used to think that I was a good dad... until the day the world stopped for me. Sometimes my son looks up at me and says, "I want to be just like you, dad." I
smile back at him and think to myself, "No son, I hope you are not like me."
Before I can tell you about the day my world stopped there are a few details that you might want to know. I've been a "freelancer" all my life, doing whatever, whenever, no matter what. I love beer. I love bourbon. Although I've never been referred to as an alcoholic, I am a text book drunk. I can go for days, weeks or months without drinking. But I've never been able to go out and have just one or two drinks. I am always the guy having the best time in the bar, the guy that everyone wants to be around... until I hit my limit on fun. Then I become an annoying drunk guy, not an angry drunk, or violent drunk, but a shameful drunk. And more often than not I wake up and regret the way I acted. Even as I write this I have a burning sensation in my nose, and my eyes are welling up with tears of sorrow for things I've done. In fact, I have done the worst thing a parent can do. I drove with my kids in the car when I was loaded.
Guilt and shame eventually got me to church, but it was really to make myself feel better, never to fix the problem. Heck, never to even work on the problem. Okay, this is going to seem like a Quinten Tarantino movie the way I jump around, but I have to tell you how I even ended up at First Church.
I have a friend whose mother has always loved me like her own son. Let's call her "Sue". I was having serious financial troubles and Sue was helping me out. Goodness knows I made enough money, but I never managed it properly. Sue helped me budget and save. Now, I'm not sure how it came about, but Sue asked if I would like to go to church with her. She told me about this local church, and mentioned a service called Higher Ground, a contemporary service that younger people attend, and it had a band. Sue's one of those ladies that you immediately love and if she asks if you want to do something, it's just natural to say yes. So, I said yes.
Sue explained that this church has two different services, Higher Ground and a Sanctuary service. Even though Sue normally goes to the sanctuary, she said she'd go to Higher Ground with me. I liked it, and the service seemed to be talking to me. So I went back every now and then, not necessarily for the right reasons, but sometimes to clear my conscience. And after a while of going for the wrong reasons, I changed. I felt good when I was there; each sermon felt like someone had called the pastor and said, "hey Phil's coming, preach about this today". Pretty scary stuff.
Everything was going well until the day the world stopped. Well, MY world. It was the weekend after my birthday, the weekend I was scheduled to pick up my kids. I had been out having a few beers, one after another knowing I was supposed to pick the kids up within two hours. In the midst of having a "good time", my ex-wife called. She had been waiting for me at the halfway point where we always meet and I had lost track of time. I was legitimately drunk. I told her I got tied up and was on my way. She's known me long enough to know that I had been drinking and said there was no way she'd let the kids go with me. I can still hear her words ringing in my ear as she said in a very disappointed tone, "Well, you can try again tomorrow when you haven't been drinking." I had no choice but to agree, and continued drinking. But I kept hearing the words in my head, "You can try again tomorrow." Needless to say tomorrow came, and I was full of regret. I was at my low, a terrible father, as bad as it gets in my mind. I got on the phone, arranged the pickup, and didn't say much more. I picked the kids up and explained that I was so sorry, I had made a bad choice, and I loved them so much that I would never do it again.
The following day was Sunday, and we headed to church. I remember Pastor Colp telling us we can be forgiven because Jesus died on the cross to pay for our sins. He said (not word for word, and possibly paraphrased) that we've made mistakes, have sinned over and over, he then he continued to say that it doesn't matter what you've done, if you confess your sins and repent, believe Jesus died for your sins, YOU ARE FORGIVEN, and he put his hand on his bible that he carries and said something that stopped my world, Pastor said, "Today is a brand new day, today you can start all over, clean slate." That was January 27, 2008. I cried in church that day. I took communion for the first time... I was found! This is what was missing in my life. I had been carrying around an emptiness all my life that I didn't know how to fill, but now I was sure it had something to do with church.
I made my way over to the pastor and let him know that even though we didn't know each other, I wanted to email him my story. I did. Then we met for coffee. Pastor David gave me some encouraging words, and told me as long as I am serious about my spiritual journey, he'd take time out to meet with me. How admirable was that? A lead pastor of a large church with a lot of responsibility, taking time out for me. Now we meet a couple of times a month and the pastor's become my friend. Whenever I feel I'm losing it, he says simple words of encouragement that lift me up. He also introduced me to another friend. We'll call him "Lex". God puts people in places to be blessings to other people. Lex is a blessing in my life. To me thats a testament to the calibur of people that God builds.
It's still a challenge. I work in a firehouse. It's a "manly man's place". We cuss like sailors, we talk trash, we're guys being guys. So imagine the reservations I have going in there and saying, "Hey guys, I think you all need to go to church with me and let your life be saved just like mine." As you can imagine that might not go over well. But Pastor and Lex have engrained something in me that I one day look forward to... some day someone is going to come to me and say, "Phil, what are you doing different? Your life is so good, can you show me what you did?" And I know it's not if it happens, it's going to be when it happens, I'll know I am doing the right things in life! That will be the day my son looks up to me and says, "I want to be just like you, dad," and I'll smile back at him and think to myself, "I hope so son, just like me, following Jesus."
God Bless First Church, and everyone who has helped me. Pastor Colp, Lex.
That's it, my story. It's a little drawn out, but you have to know all the aspects to truly understand what it means to me.