April 7, 1974

It was a Sunday night as I recall.  I made the long walk (or what seemed like a long walk) from the funeral home parking lot to our little church in East Peoria, IL.  We crossed the main road and into a "revival" church service.  I don't remember who spoke exactly, but I do remember Reverend Timm being there.

Growing up, I wasn't the best kid in church.  I remember being young and feeling compelled to stand up in the pew and help the pastor preach.  My parents and grandparents weren't to keen on the idea though.  I also remember waiting until the "best" possible moment and dashing under the pews, trying to see how far I could crawl until someone caught me and sent me back.  Usually, this resulted in a quick trip to the downstairs bathroom where I would be instructed to pull my pants down, touch my ankles, and have some belt therapy applied.  Most of the time it worked, but sometimes the DNA and my Irish and Scottish heritage would take over and I would be just stubborn enough to go upstairs and repeat the actions that got me to the basement bathroom in the first place.  And back down to the basement my dad and I would go, repeating this crazy cycle over and over again.  After being a father for nearly twenty one years now, I completely understand why my father has grey hair.  Sorry Dad!

But this night, April 7, 1974, was special for me.  Something stirred my heart and I felt like I should make a conscious decision to live my life for Jesus.  So after the service, I asked Pastor Timm if we could meet in his pastor's study.  He did and we prayed a little prayer.

For thirty seven years, I have been a Christian.  And for some reason after all these years, I am still trying to dodge under the pew, sometimes I try to help with the preaching (when I shouldn't), and I definitely am having to take many, many trips to the bathroom for belt therapy.

So today, my hope and prayer is to stop being so stubborn so that I can quit repeating this crazy cycle over and over again.