A different kind of birthday

A little over ten years ago, on Easter Sunday, 1997, I stood up in front of the congregation at Canaan and publicly claimed my faith in Jesus Christ as my Savior and Lord. Even though I had been attending church during my high school years, it never really clicked for me during that time that salvation was a gift to be accepted, rather than a merit badge to be earned. I had gone through high school with the idea that just as I went to school to train my mind, I would go to church to train my soul and conscience. During my first year of college, however, I got a glimpse of and began to understand what fellowship was and who the Bible said Jesus was, and I figured I'd go ahead and get baptized.

I wore a suit. I wrote and read a testimony that included lyrics from the now-old-schoolish praise song "Just the Time (I Want to Know You More)". Pastor Dan dipped his hand into a chalice of water and wet my head (no dunk tank, unfortunately). Friends from Berkeley came down to witness and pledge to keep me accountable to the commitment of faith I had taken.

Ever since then, it's been a wild ride trying to understand this thing called discipleship. The half year after baptism, I went through the worst time of my life where everything I valued fell apart - knowing now that God was breaking down my old self so I could be built back up again. I've read through the Bible a few times and tried to learn how to be a servant leader. I've been able to see some of God's heart for the poor in the inner city of New York and in Mexico. I've had the privilege of leading Bible studies, musical worship, and working with high schoolers. I've been able to serve as a deacon and see what goes on behind-the-scenes of a church. I've struggled with some sins, gained victory over some others, and experienced God's grace throughout everything.

Now, ten years after being baptized, I look back on the path that God's brought me through and I become more convicted of the need for the Gospel on a daily basis. They say that one gauge of growing in spiritual maturity is that you continually realize just how much more wretched you are, and how much more in need of grace. I think I'm seeing this a little bit now, and I need to remind myself of it every day - how joyous it is to know the freedom that comes through grace!

I celebrated my "birthday" on Monday by going to donate blood. I go every 2 months - it's a good habit! - if you want to get started, check out the Stanford Blood Center (get the red out!) or the Red Cross. As I lay there with the warm tube lying against the skin of my arm, the thought came to mind that while I was giving blood in the hope that it would help heal another person from illness, Jesus gave up all his blood to redeem people to himself. The communion that we had taken on Good Friday was basically in remembrance of the divine blood donation that would heal his people from the sickness of sin. Kinda cool.

(Incidentally, if you need extra incentive, you can go to donate blood at Stanford on Mondays and receive an AMC silver voucher - the $5.50 one - as well as a $10 gift certificate to the Sports Basement sporting good store right now!)