Culled : rbc.org
As I grew up, I knew my grandma as a saint. She didn’t just
get her bible out of the closet on Sunday, go to church and
then come home and do her own thing the rest of the week.
She went to church every Sunday morning and night, every
Wednesday night, until they passed, she did ladies hair for
church every Saturday. She was also on the prayer chain at
her church. And every morning, she read Our Daily Bread
(which is why I started reading it too 🙂 ). But I went too
church when I had too, at her house on any weekend. I was
baptized at her church at the age of 9, but nothing changed.
I kept living the same (not sinful, but not saintly), kept
watching the same shows, sleeping in on Sunday mornings,
normally, etc. But, at the age of 16, I was in a bad accident
that almost, should of, killed me (fell off a bridge off a
motorcycle 30 ft; shattered pelvis, broke a leg, arm, a finger
and my collarbone and sustained a traumatic brain injury.
Spent 4 1/2 months in the hospital, a year in a wheelchair
and shattered dreams (Air Force Academy was no longer an
option.) But then God orchestrated events that brought me
closer to Him. Met a kid in High School at lunch who
inspired me to read the Bible, at CU met my current best
friend (who’s currently a missionary in Spain to North
African Nations) who led a Bible Study and with whom I
started attending church regularly. Baptized in 1984, bad
accident in 1991, started reading the Bible in 1993,
attending church regularly in 1994. (Also started reading
Our Daily Bread in 1995.) Maybe, not the right way, but
better late than never!