Rambling With A Purpose: Part One

I have been a Christian (in some form) for almost twenty-five years and I don't know that I am much different than I was before. I say that because I often feel as if I'm still that eleven year old kid who rushed down the aisle on a warm Sunday night in May of 1982. There are some obvious differences but they are mostly physical in nature. I'm much older, bigger, grayer and wider than I was the night I got dunked the first time. I was a frightened little kid that night...frightened that I would die and go to hell if I didn't get baptized right then and there. It was an internal struggle that I had been dealing with for weeks and it finally forced me out of the pew during the third chorus of Just As I Am and straight into the arms of Jesus. I thought that the struggle and the fear would end that night. I celebrated my freedom over a double with cheese from Wendy's. It was the very first double cheeseburger my parents let me get...apparently being saved meant that you got bigger portions. I was about as happy as a guy could be...and then things went back to normal.