From my childhood I was spiritually sensitive. I know that in our “modern” world saying something like that has the potential of offending our culture’s deep bias toward a skeptical humanism, but there is no better way to explain the road I walked from my earliest memories.

I was deeply interested in the supernatural and by the time I was 12 I was intentionally seeking a deeper spiritual experience that would awaken something inside I knew was there but did not remotely understand. I read about the new age. For a while I actively sought out the power it purported to have.

Then I met a young lady in my class who was a Jehovah’s Witness. She began sharing her faith with me. It was the first time I had ever heard about Jesus as a Savior (previously he had been introduced to me through my reading as a powerful seer or psychic). It was also the first time I had ever come close to any kind of biblical explanation of existence.

I didn’t understand it then but I was being guided by the Hand of Divine Providence. I can look back on it now and see how God moved the pieces around the chess board of my life, but then it was just questions and realizations coming in real time.

I ended up hearing the full gospel message first from my eighth grade social studies teacher and then through another twist, my father who was most definitely not a believer called my “crazy uncle” and asked him to take me to church. I ended up attending church with at a little Assemblies of God in my hometown (where I am now the pastor). I sat in that little church for six months before I made a true personal commitment to Jesus Christ as my God.

I have learned that there are many bends in the metaphorical road of faith. The way is narrow and it winds precariously up a very high mountain. I have also learned that on this journey of faith, truth is not so much discovered as it is revealed.