For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a Christian. It’s what I’ve identified as since I was in elementary school. I was raised in the south as the grandson of a preacher. I didn’t have much of a choice other than to call myself a Christian.
I sometimes wish I had a great conversion story where I fell in a giant hole of sex, drugs, and rock and roll only to be saved by Jesus. Instead, my story is like many of yours. I met Jesus as a kid, did my own thing in high school and college, then reconnected after college. Now I’m here as a 28-year-old trying to figure out how to do this whole grown up thing.
My idea of what a real Christian looks like has changed over the years. As a kid, it was saying the sinner’s prayer 37 times a day and wearing nice clothes on Sunday morning. In college, it was not drinking or doing drugs while not going to church. As long as I wasn’t publicly acting like a hypocrite, I was okay. In seminary, being a real Christian meant getting involved in every possible thing I could inside the church. The more I did and the better the experience, the closer I was to Jesus.
For you, being a real Christian could mean something similar or different. We all have our different view of it. Continue reading