I was raised in the metro Houston area in southeast Texas by my mom and stepdad. We were not religious, we didn’t go to church, and the only time I heard God’s name was in a curse word. My real dad took me to church when I was with him every-other weekend, but I hated it and tried to get out of it.
I was a lonely, nerdy little kid who always sought to overcome the verbal, emotional, and sometimes physical abuse from my stepdad, by trying to get people to like me. I thought that if I could make them laugh at my jokes or believe I was cool by telling them lies, then I would be happy. I failed miserably.
As I made my way through Jr. High, I continued in my endeavors of acceptance. I began drinking and smoking and became an expert at cutting people down so that my friends would think I was cool and funny. I only became more isolated. In my eighth grade year I was lost in a sea of depression. I hated my life, but didn’t know why. I couldn’t understand why people didn’t like me and why I was so disconsolate.
Then I met Brad Barnes. Brad was a senior and I was an incoming freshman. He played the same instrument I did in band and even though I was so much younger, he would talk to me and take me to lunch during summer band. One afternoon he invited me to his church. I said, “no way,” but he pressed on. I finally relented when he told me that there was free pizza.
At the church that night, the preacher was preaching on Hell. He was fire-and-brimstone and roared from the pulpit that without Jesus I would suffer forever. I didn’t like the sound of that and I walked down the aisle. Afterward I called home to tell my mom that the reason I was late was because I got saved, but she cussed me out and told me to get home.
That freshman year of high school was rough for me. I called myself a Christian, and tried to stop doing all the bad things I was a part of, but something was missing. I still didn’t like going to church, but I thought I was doing good if I wasn’t cussing or drinking; I was also still extremely lonely and depressed. Then the breakthrough came.
My dad signed me up for a summer camp at his church. I didn’t want to go and fought against it, but my dad (Mr. Pushover) amazingly stayed firm and made me go. Of course, now I am eternally grateful. The preacher at this camp taught us that Jesus was more than a “get out of Hell, free – card.” He showed us that Jesus was the Son of God who is the only one worthy of our praise. He helped us understand that we were (and are) so sinful that we can never do enough good things to earn God’s favor. Even if we could stop sinning (we can’t), that’s still not enough for God. He requires perfection – and that’s why Jesus is necessary. He’s the only perfect one, and he lived and died, and now lives again, not so we can merely get out of Hell (although we do!), but so we could have a relationship with him now.
This was all so new to me. I thought being a Christian just meant managing a list of dos and don’ts, but this guy spoke of freedom. I came to understand the truth of who God is and who I am and what grace is. This brought joy where there was only sorrow. This brought acceptance where there was only rejection. This brought peace where there was only strife. Instead of hate, I was filled with love: love for Jesus, love for my stepdad, love for the church, love for scripture. And sin, instead of being something I liked but was supposed to avoid, became something I loathed. I trusted in Christ as my Lord and Savior that evening (it was a Thursday), and I was baptized the very next morning in the Gulf of Mexico!
From that point on, I was a changed boy. I was still only allowed to go to church when I was with my real dad every other weekend, but we somehow convinced my mom to let me go on Wednesday nights as well. Aside from that, things at home didn’t get any better – they actually got worse, especially with my stepdad who hated Christianity. But this battleground provided great soil for growth. I was pressed into dependence on God. He was teaching me that He had a plan and that He was totally in charge, and that if I was going through hard times, He had a good reason for it.
A few years later I found myself leading our school’s Youth for Christ group. Although looking back I can tell that I wasn’t anywhere near ready for such a position, God blessed me during that time and began to impress upon me that He had given me some sort of leadership skills. I assumed that I would teach a Sunday School class at church or something similar, but had no idea or desire to go into the ministry.
After graduating from High School and moving on campus at Houston Baptist University, I threw myself into everything I could at my church (Second Baptist – Houston). With my parents no longer restricting me I made myself available for everything. I still had no intention of working at the church; I just wanted to help. Soon I was teaching High School Bible study classes, directing a college-age Sunday School class, and leading worship for both. After two years, they asked me to come on staff as a summer intern with the Jr. High ministry. I thought that was the coolest thing ever, to be paid for working at a church!
As the summer ended, the church asked me to stay on full-time with the Jr. High ministry. While I loved being in the ministry, I still had no thoughts of doing it beyond graduation. My friends and co-workers, however, saw things differently. Starting with little comments and teases that eventually led to lengthy discussions, they began to voice their opinion that I was called to the ministry. I fought against it for a while, although looking back, I can’t recall why. Slowly, over the next two years though, while teaching and leading worship week-in and week-out, I began to get the internal confirmation of what my friends had been trying to assure me of.
This had been perfect timing because by then end of that time I was engaged to my lovely wife-to-be and just a few months from graduating with a BA (double-major in Christianity and Speech Communications) from HBU. I was still far from perfect, but had an incredible pastor/boss who patiently worked with me, sharpened me, and helped burn out some of my impurities. He, along with the other ministry staff, encouraged me in my spiritual giftedness and challenged me areas that needed help. I knew I still needed to grow, but I also knew that God called me to be in ministry full-time, for the rest of my life.
The church, however, could only keep me at an intern’s salary, and I was not able to support a family on that income, so I soon found myself looking for a ministry position at another church. Since that time, Amanda and I have been through a mountain range of experiences. We’ve been a part of some good ministries with some great men of God, and we’ve been in some valleys, that have stretched our faith in ways unimaginable. Through it all, however, God has confirmed in us, again and again (sometimes through tears), that His place for us is in ministry. And thus we will stay in the strength and grace He provides.