Commitment to Salvation

First a bit of commentary, since this is first and foremost about commitment. For the next thirty days I plan to write thirty blogs, well, at least thirty. Calling it thirty in thirty.
There is another commitment I am making as well, but I won't go into it yet as it may occupy many of the blogs I post in the next thirty days. I was going to wait until the first of August, just so I would have that easy time line, but decided that since I felt drawn to do this, and I was committed to the idea, then why wait.
Why am I doing this, well to get rid of the fluff, to get real. I have been giving much thought to prayer and how much, or little of my day I spend in it. And I wonder, how real is my prayer life.
I believe it was Brother Rash (sorry if I am attributing that incorrectly) who mentioned being at a church where they just prayed for an hour. And thinking on my prayer life, I would probably pray at first like I normally do, mostly fluff, and that might get me a few minutes into the hour.
But each time I re-examined what I needed to pray for, who needed prayers the most, the fluff would most likely disappear, and those prayers would get real. And so I begin the first blog in this journey, you can count this as July 25th as that's when I started it, even thought the clock is now nearing midnight. I have said a little prayer asking for guidance on this blog, and the ones to follow, that they go where the LORD has directed them.
Commitment to Salvation
Some of the youth that are part of my church family, and a few teens and adults, went off to junior camp this past week.
I remember going off to camp Longridge myself when I was about fifteen. I only went the one year, re-dedicated my life to God there in 1994, forgive me if I'm incorrect, it could have been 1993 and me a year younger. I know it happened because in my old red Bible, you know the one I have hardly ever opened, is a little piece of paper with the date and the details of my re-commitment.
I bring this up because on the last day of camp one of the members of our church accepted salvation.
I remember when I accepted salvation, I was about ten years old.
The pastor at that time sat me down and talked to me over the course of a few weeks, they gave me books to read. He and his wife wanted to make sure I understood what salvation was.
I thought it was great, that me, a little kid could go and talk to the pastor and his wife, with questions of salvation, and be taken seriously, which I needed.
I have always been a somewhat serious kid, most of the time, sometimes I'm silly. I was so serious in third grade, when I was but eight years old, given the opportunity to choose what name the teacher called me by, I asked to go by my middle name. Why, because I felt that my given name was far too childish and would sound childish when called that as an adult.
Guess you could say I had a thirty year plan back then.
One of the first things I remember thinking about salvation was how the adults would always talk about how could would come knocking and you would have to let him in. Well, the silly side must have been winning at that time because I thought that when Jesus came knocking that I would hear in my head a knocking sound, as if someone were knocking on a heavy wooden door. And that I would feel his knuckles on my back as he knocked to be let in.
I got a lot of that straightened out, but before I went to the altar, that pastor died. It wasn't until the next pastor was at the church and we firmly in our new sanctuary that I walked the aisle and accepted salvation.
And it was easy, I had known for a while that I was going to do it. I had been the former pastors buddy, standing at the back of the church, shaking peoples hands as they left and thanking them for coming. I said back then that I would be a preacher when I grew up, still might as soon as I get around to the growing up part.
And that finally brings me back to the commitment part.
There was only five years between me getting saved and then having to recommit my life.
Why?
What happened in those five years that I could so lose my way?
I was a child, the devil couldn't use bills, and financial hardship to turn me from God, true being an overweight kid, he could easily have used vanity against me, but I don't remember ever being called fat or treated differently by those I went to church with.
Where I think the failure came, was at the church level, the Sunday school teachers. And I don't say this to bash them, I believe they did the best they knew how, but I had a pastor I was very comfortable in talking to, and maybe not so much with the Sunday school teachers.
Most of the lessons seemed to be the prepackaged variety, designed to have a broader appeal, I needed some hardcore Bible study to make me strong in the faith. I desired the sincere milk of the word. You can find that little nugget in 1 Peter 2:2
So my faith became someone stagnant, no one was holding me accountable for spiritual growth, it was, here's the lesson, okay times up time for the morning service. More emphasis seemed to be on delivering the lesson, than on ensuring that it made a lasting impact, or increased the spiritual growth.
And some would say, "No big deal, you're in church now."
This is true, but I spent twelve years out in the world, being a "good" person. I didn't drink, do drugs, smoke, wasn't sexually promiscuous. I'm thirty now and back in church for a year, so let's do a bit of quick math.
30-1=29-12=17-15=2
That's right, only two years from when I recommitted my life, to when I went completely out into the world.
And I hold a lot of responsibility for that, I could have taken it upon myself to read my Bible. I could have done a lot different, and probably missed a lot of pain. But I wouldn't have been tested in a fire like I am, my faith would not be where it stands right now, in this moment, if I didn't travel the path I did.
I don't have to worry about my faith faltering if things get hard, they've been hard, that's what drove me to my knees, that's what drove me to the cross, and that's where my Lord and savior Jesus Christ, picked me up, swept the dust off my clothes, and showed me the path I hadn't been able to see. I had been blinded by the world, I hope for the last time.
And I know I have probably rambled, but now I get to the crux of the point.
Remember that child saved at camp from my church. Does he know he can go and ask questions about his salvation? Does he know he can come to the pastor, or even me, or the other leaders in the church? Who is accountable for this boys salvation and spiritual growth?
I wish we had a Bible study just for this, strengthening the core values of salvation. I don't really know if values is the right word, but a place to learn all the basics, where you can ask questions without fear, where what you learn is formed to your needs, rather than a broad approach, which I liken to slinging mud on the wall to see what sticks.
It took me a while to get there. I didn't immediately start going to Sunday School when I went back to church. I was in the men's class, but all the men in there were well versed and I didn't fit in, I could sit and talk with them without slowing down the lesson, so I moved to a new class, one that allowed me to move at my own pace.
A few weeks ago I taught the class, and will be teaching it again in September. It truly is amazing what God will do in your life when you give it all to him, when you truly make that commitment.
And I want to remember that boy and his new found salvation. I don't want to see him get lost in the world because no one was there encouraging in his walk with God, or any other person because it doesn't matter the age, we can get off that narrow path.
Many need this help, but it's hard to ask for that help, we need to encourage one another, uplifting each other in spiritual growth so that not one more seed of our brothers or sisters falls by the wayside, among thorns, where the thorns grow up and choke it until it yields no fruit, or is eaten by the birds.
I was seed that had no root, I was planted shallowly and I withered away.
It took the world covering me in dirt, and my church family watering me until my roots set in, and the Lord fertilizing me with the word for me to start growing, and I want to see what kind of fruit I produce. Mark 4:1-20 KJV