I was blessed to be born into a Christian home, and one of my earliest memories is of the day that I became a Christian. It was May 5, 1985, and I was in Miss Annis’s kindergarten class at Eastwood Baptist School. All the lower elementary grades were assembled together for a chapel lesson, and the teacher in charge read the story of Barney’s Barrel published by the Children’s Bible Club. The story tells of a homeless boy who lived in a barrel and then went to a revival meeting where he heard the Gospel and accepted Christ. At the end of the lesson, the teacher asked for anyone who wanted to get saved to come to the front of the room. I went forward along with one other child, and Miss Annis took us to her classroom to tell us more about salvation.
Miss Annis opened her Bible, read John 3:16-17, and explained to my friend and me how God loved us so much that He sent His Son to die for our sins so we could go to Heaven. I distinctly remember understanding that I was a sinner and that praying for God’s forgiveness was my only hope. I bowed my head as a four-year-old boy and prayed, confessing my sin and asking God to save me.
That day, I began a life-long journey of joy and discovery. I was already a voracious reader--and even a bit of a writer--but that day, the Lord didn’t just save me from Hell (which is beyond glorious just in itself). He also gave me a direction for my life that has remained with me ever since. From that day forward, my life has been focused on learning more about God and sharing that knowledge with others. I remember eagerly reading the Bible and telling my friends what I had read even as a young kindergartener, and like the prophet Jeremiah, every time that I’ve tried to stop sharing God’s Word in the years since, I find myself tortured with a burning desire that can only be quenched by learning and sharing more.
The History of the Historian
A collection of things that I would like to say when someone asks me who I am, but I don't because I never have enough time.