I was born at an early age. (My dad likes to say that.) From the first day, I was in church. I grew up hearing the preaching, singing and story telling about Jesus. I heard about how He was born of a virgin in a humble place. I heard about how He lived a perfect, sinless life. I heard about how He was crucified, buried and rose again. I even heard about how He wanted me to be part of His family, the church. It was comfortable, and I felt I belonged. In my mind, it was only a matter of time before I joined the church.
In our churches, at the end of each service, we include what we call the "Invitation". Simply put, it's an invitation for anyone to openly respond to whatever God is doing in their lives at that moment. While we all sing an appropriate song, people voluntarily make their way to the front of the room where they can either pray, receive counsel, join the church or profess their new found faith in Jesus Christ. No one is required to speak. Rather the Pastor shares with the congregation for them while they stand next to Him in full view of everyone.
By the age of 9 or 10, I knew I needed to join the church. But there was just one problem. I was horribly timid. The idea of standing in full view of the congregation was a terrifying thought. I know what you're thinking. If you know me at all, you're probably saying, "Jeff? Timid??" The truth is, "Yes. The real Jeff is a scared little boy." The person you know is the one God has transformed and enabled, but we'll get to that in a minute.
I've always struggled with the fear of being seen. Some people I know love the spotlight. I love the shadows. Oh, I do fine in small groups or even in larger groups where I know most of the people well. In those settings, there is a level of control, and I can be secure in the box I've built for myself. But the idea of being the center of attention anywhere still gives me the shivers and makes me slip to the back of the crowd.
In church, as the invitation approached, anxiety would begin to grow. "People want me to join. It's the right thing to do.'' Those were the thoughts in my head. As the song began, I would try to talk myself into it. "Go down on the second verse," I would say to myself. When the second verse began I would think, "OK, on the next verse." Sooner or later, the song would end, and I would be off the hook. That's how it went week after week.
When I was 13, my father, a former Minister of Music and then High School Choral Director was asked to lead worship in a revival at a church near our home. Mama and I went with him every night enjoying the pre-service meal served to the choir and Evangelist. Oddly, I've always been at ease with adults and immediately struck up a friendship with the Pastor of the church, Hershel Sizemore. We had good conversations each night, and by Thursday, trust had developed in me. That night, he asked if we could talk privately. We went into the sanctuary, and he sat sideways in the pew in front of me. I don't remember a word he said. What I do remember is that Jesus was presented to me in a personal way.
What had only been head knowledge was transformed into something personal. For the first time, someone told ME what I needed. It wasn't about joining a group. It wasn't about what was expected of me. It wasn't about me and everyone else in the room. It was about me and God. It was about what Jesus did for me and my need for Him.
As we entered the time of Invitation that night, the same old anxiety began to build. I told myself, "I'll go down on the second verse." But a strange thing happened. As we began to sing, a wave of peace passed over me. I watched as an observer as I closed the hymnal, put it away and stepped out into the aisle. God had given me a gentle nudge. He had suddenly brought everything into focus, and I saw the big neon sign. It was easy. Daddy reminded me several years ago of the song we sang that night. "I Surrender All." That's what I did that night. It was simple and childlike. It was unquestioning trust. I surrendered control.
Over the following months and years, God has showed me the reality of sin in my life. He's showed me who He is. He's showed me why Jesus chose to die for me. He's showed me how much He loves me. He is still showing me these things. And I've learned to trust Him... to love Him back... to surrender all. He changed me. He enabled me to do things I never dreamed I could. I learned to live Philippians 4:13, "I am able to do all things through Him who strengthens me." He taught me to take my eyes off "I am able" and to focus on "through Him who strengthens me." Sometimes I give in to that scared little boy, take control and build my little box. That's when He gently nudges me again, points to the big neon sign and says, "Trust Me." Then I take His outstretched hand and we continue down the path together.
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