From Death to Life: High School Senior

Everyone has a story. Whether yours is told to millions or a few, it’s still your story. And it’s important.

My coming to receive Jesus as my Lord and Savior accelerated during my senior year of high school. A young lady in the soprano section of our school choir didn’t talk much, which stood out. Eventually I met her, noticing that she was different, having something I did not have. At the time I didn’t know what that “something” was.

In the spring I met this girl’s family, when I picked her up to drive us to our choir teacher’s house, for a picnic. Her family had a “something” about them that I couldn’t fathom, but found myself liking.

This girl and her family were Christians. Growing up in a denominational church I knew the term, just not the experience. I attended a church where, outside of singing and the pastor’s 20-minute sermon, the loudest sound was the lady a few rows behind us unwrapping her candy.

Two months after the choir picnic our high school graduation was held at Cole Field House, on the campus of the University of Maryland, thus marking the end of my formal education. By now I had become more acquainted with the young lady and her family. Looking back it has occurred to me that this family saw me as a lost young man looking for reality. A one-person mission field.

Searches for reality came in many forms back in 1969, as they do today. Drugs, alcohol, sex-they were all available, but-thankfully-were never participated in. Well, there was a one-half can of stolen beer that, fortunately, I disliked. No regrets to this day about not participating in such activities.

This is part of my story, one of me coming to experience Life. I invite you to join me as I recount portions of the steps taken, which lead from death to Life.