I was raised by my mother and grandmother. I came from a broken family before it was fashionable. I didn’t enjoy church at that time and even though I had felt the feelings at the revival meeting, I stayed out of the loop for years. I never did anything too terrible to anyone but was far from the “good boy” that everyone thought they saw. Fortunately, I never had a drug or alcohol problem but I smoked and chased every girl I could and caught way too many for my own good. Again, God was looking over my shoulder and no one ended up pregnant or with an STD.

I goofed off a lot at work and had many jobs until after my first marriage when I settled down a bit. I still ignored the feelings inside about going to the Word for advice. I didn’t laugh at those who did, I just turned away and tried to ignore my inner tendencies. Still no church attendance. I used every excuse to my wife and myself about not liking any of the local churches. I did not understand the lack of perfection I saw in the people I new who attended regularly.

I have always had a love for history and respected the Bible for the history aspect if nothing else. I would learn a lot from listening to various discussions about history and prophecy and the accuracy in Isaiah and Daniel. I began to see a couple of ministers on late night TV that taught instead of preached. I enjoyed that and learned even more and began to develop a thirst for knowledge. This was in the mid-80s after my second marriage and my Mom had remarried a minister, as well.

It still took me many years to figure out what salvation really meant and get my brain rearranged. I began to be around a couple of people I liked that had a great deal of knowledge and i enjoyed discussing my questions with them. Fast forward a little to the late 90s and I began to listen to several shortwave religious broadcasts and things began to firm up in my mush bowl head. The regrets began to set in. I just could not believe I could be forgiven for the things I had done. After some ten years of conversion and study, I felt the hair stand up again and a lightness come into my step and my back straightened up. I finally figured out that I don’t have to figure out God’s ways, just believe in them.

Some new friends from the internet sent me a copy of “The Room”. I felt the tears after the second paragraph. By the time I got to the fourth I had to wipe my eyes to see. Like the line in the story, I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. It was as if the story wrapped itself around my body or had been written with my life in mind.

I went back and read it over two or three times. Each time picking up on new twists. I was three times the age of the guy in the story. I had much more bad baggage than him. It is amazing how much blood Jesus had to go around for us all. It had always been so simple. Just a prayer away. Just a little change of mind and a big change in attitude. So simple, so close and yet so far away. I am so thankful I had always believed in God even though I failed to let Him into my daily life. I talked to Him once in a while but didn’t understand that I needed to repent. Finally, listening to the radio, I began to understand. Thank God for the people who donated to those ministers so I could hear. Thank God I could still hear and finally understand what I had been hearing all along. Now I just plain thank God. Maybe my rebellious ways will let me start my own Rebelolution.

I love you all. Wish I could talk with all of you.

The past few days have been a frenzy of trying to change bad habits, pay more attention to things that matter, etc. I’m trying to be a Rebelutionary. Today my best friend became one, and I found another friend who is one also. Things were (dare I say it?) going pretty well.

But “all our righteous works are as filthy rags”. I know that God has forgiven my sins, and that I no longer need to feel guilty about those things that happened in the past. I also know that I am still sinning. But the sins that I know I must have committed in the past few days are not anywhere near as obvious as those that have happened in the past, and I don’t feel as guilty as I used to.

The question that I was literally about to ask was, “I know I should feel guilty, but I don’t feel like I’ve done much wrong lately. What gives?”

Then I just realized the answer. Whether the sin was murder or one wrongly thought word, I’m guilty of sin. I’m as guilty as the one who nailed Jesus to the cross, as guilty as the one who spat in His face. No matter how “good” I might look on the outside, I’m still just as much a sinner.

Jesus is still there, putting His name on my files. I pray now that He’ll put His name on the file marked “Times I’ve been Prideful”, along with all the others.

Thank you for the reminder.

It’s such a wonder why Jesus would do such a thing for me, and die for me. Yet at the same time, we still sin and disobey his commands when we know hi love for us. I truely hope that we will be able to give 100% of our lives to him and do hard things for Christ.

Thanks for posting it guys!!!!

Jeremiah