The Story Behind the Name Part 1

I feel like I should address the name of the blog since I’ve now had a few people say I should change it because “I’m not defined by failures.” In that thinking, they are correct. But the name of the blog to me does not signal a failure, quite the opposite. Let me tell you a story. In 4 parts! Over the next couple of weeks, I’m going to post the cliff note version of my story. And why the name of this blog is something I wear as a badge of honor, not of shame.

I became a Christian at the age of 19 in a little church in Raceland, Kentucky. I was baptized by a summer interim youth pastor named David DeBorde who was the first “Christian” I was ever around who was honest about his flaws. In my mind the biggest obstacle to Christianity at the time was not that I didn’t believe in God, it was the hypocritical way I felt church people acted. I was in a small town, I knew everyone that went to that church. What they sang about on Sunday, often did match what they lived out on Monday. And I was mortified of becoming “like them.”

Now I have no idea what happened to David, but he was the first person to come along in my world and admit that he wasn’t perfect. To be frank, he was kind of a mess. Lol! But he was genuine. He was real, he was wrestling with the things people grapple with when they are 20-21 years old and was open about it. Those things weren’t hushed. It was a bit refreshing to me because what I saw was that you could be authentic and genuine and still follow Jesus. What I had seemingly learned and absorbed being in and out of church growing up was there was this level of cleaning up one had to do before one could be a Christian. And what little I did read the bible back then seemed to contradict that notion. I can’t tell you how many times I heard the hymn “Just As I Am” sung as an invitation, only to hear the opposite message from the same people after church. And keep in mind, I grew up in Eastern Kentucky. So a lot of the emphasis back then was on the way someone dressed, or the length of a guy’s hair, tattoos were terrible, etc. The message I saw in scripture was “Just As I Am”as the words of the song, but the message I heard in churches “Just As We Want.” As a result, I dismissed Christianity as something I wanted no part of, despite the fact I was growing more convinced there was a God.

When I did decide, based on Dave’s genuineness, to give the Jesus thing a go in the summer of 1997 I honestly ended up more lost for a long time. To say I gave my life to Christ and everything changed would be a blatant lie, because while I started to believe Jesus was real and God was God, I didn’t honestly give all of my life over to him. And to make matters worse, no one really came along and led me. But God indeed began his work that day.

Back then I was a liar, I was a manipulator, I was co-dependent, and a myriad of other things. I can totally relate to what Paul says in 1 Timothy 1:15b when he says, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners–of whom I am the worst.” I was the worst. I hurt a lot of people, including my family and the girl I was with at the time. None of those people deserved to be treated the way I treated them. For that, I will always be sorry.

But God.

I was in a band back then, and a couple of us were Christians, so we became a “Christian” band. I use that term loosely because none of us truly wanted to be in a Christian band, but there seemed to be more gigs to be had and a market for it, so we went for it. One particular Sunday we were asked to sing a couple of songs at church and our lead singer sang a song his Uncle wrote. The chorus goes “How sweet it is, to say you’re one of his. Entering his Kingdom is just like coming home. And as you walk through the door, that robe of sin you wore is changed from scarlet red to white as snow, and you’re one of his.” Now, this guy could really sing, so imagine that chorus with just an acoustic guitar picking in the background. And for, what I believe is the only time I’ve heard the utter clear voice of God as if he was sitting right next to me, I heard Him say “The harvest is plenty, but the workers are few. Will you be my worker?”

That’s it. I did not know what that meant, I was so young in my faith I didn’t realize it was a bible verse (it’s Matthew 9:37 and Luke 2:10). So when I talked to the previously mentioned Dave about it there was the only solution, I was to become a Youth Minister and go to Bible College. For the first time.

I started at what was then called Cincinnati Bible College and Seminary shortly after that. I got a ticket the first night for smoking. I was not pleased. I was told the next day smoking was banned from campus and was met with absolute befuddled looks from my Advisor that I did not understand why I couldn’t smoke. I mean I just came from this little church where some people barely were out of the lobby before they lit up. At least I had the decency to go to the parking lot. In January. In Ohio.

I did everything “wrong” there. I came “Just As I Am” eating at Hooters whenever possible, occasionally drinking Red Dog beer (yay the 90’s!) in the dorm room, I got in trouble for wearing a South Park t-shirt to class, I played an inordinate amount of PlayStation, I ate an unhealthy amount of Skyline cheese coneys, and a skipped a lot of classes. And I was essentially Satan to the vast majority of the folks there. The more I felt judged and was treated like an outsider the more I wanted to run up phone card bills talking to my girlfriend back home and sneaking alcohol and going to Hooters. Not once did anyone ever try to reach out and disciple me. Not once. It was just write-ups and eye rolls and judgment. It was everything I experienced in church growing up, but instead of it just being an hour on Sunday I was immersed in it every day of the week. I was miserable. I rebelled. And, not shockingly, I ended up dropping out. By the end of 1998, I was the 1x Seminary Drop-out.

Alas, my time in Bible college was not all for naught.

To be continued…