A New Child

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The image is embedded in my mind…

…the day my bedroom became a birth room.

I’m a visual person, so when I remember things, I see them. If I can’t see it, I probably don’t remember it. The farther back you go in my life, the fewer pictures I still have, but one of them I will never forget- or, I hope I never do.

At the age of five, kneeling at the side of my bed with my parents, I accepted God’s gift of salvation and became a child of God. Yes, I was young, but I had heard the gospel often, and I knew I was a sinner, and I knew that only God could forgive my sins because Jesus had paid for them.

Child Reading BookLuke 18:16-17 says, “But Jesus called them to Him and said, ‘Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God. Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it.'”

That was me on that night. I received “the kingdom of God as a little child” with my simple understanding of my sinfulness, God’s holiness, and God’s payment for my sin.

I accepted that gift, and in one instant, I was adopted and born again, all at once.

March 15, 1995. Forever embedded in my mind.

Forever embedded in His hand (John 10:28-29).

A Year of Questions, Part 7: “How Old Are You?”

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One of the reasons I love kids is because I love doing the things they do. I still feel young and want to play with Legos, have water fights, and run out into the street during a parade to get candy. On Sunday night I may or may not have been chasing kids around in the basement of the church building…and yes, I was walking the whole time (just really fast).

Anyway, people will often ask me how old I am. I’m not sure if this is common for all pastors of any age, or if people are not accustomed to seeing a younger pastor. The kids at church have also asked my age on several occasions, and I’m guessing that’s more common.

Birthday CakeAdults and teens tend to guess younger while children tend to guess older. When asked my age, my answer up until last week was 27. On the one hand, it feels young, but on the other hand, it feels old because 20 doesn’t seem that long ago.

Last night I was at a pastors and wives fellowship for pastors in Minnesota, and on the dinner table was an article describing the rising average age of pastors. In general, as pastors get older, there are fewer and fewer younger people answering the call to pastoral ministry. Indeed, I was the youngest person at the meal…probably by at least 5 years.

All that to say, none of us are getting any younger, but some of us are still younger than others. I’m thankful my church wanted to serve with them, despite my age and my inexperience compared to others. Hopefully, more churches will do the same, and I hope to see more people my age and younger joining the ranks of vocational ministry!