I’m not one to live in regret, but if I could have one redo, I know exactly what I’d do – or redo.
I was eleven years old. The church our family attended, Elizabeth Missionary Baptist Church, had the tradition of the pastor standing at the front of the sanctuary at the end of the worship service during the last congregational hymn to receive anyone who would come forward for prayer. Some may go up to pray to receive Jesus as their Savior. Others may have a sick family member for whom to intercede. The pastor would pray with them for whatever need they had.
This particular Sunday morning, I went up to tell the pastor what I felt the Lord had said to me.
I went up to the pastor and he bent down to whisper into my ear, “Gabe, do you know that Jesus is your Lord and Savior?”
“Yessir, and I think God wants me to be a preacher.” I articulated what I’d perceived the Lord speaking to my heart.
Then the pastor did what he sometimes did after speaking with someone at the altar. He stood up, turned, held up his hand for the singing to stop and addressed the congregation. “Gabe has professed this morning that he believes the Lord wants him to be a preacher.
The folks in the congregation had a very emotional response. Many cried and all seemed joyful. The singing resumed as everyone celebrated that God’s Spirit was active in His people, even this eleven-year-old kid. We got out of church a full half hour later than usual, and nobody minded, which was, itself, a miracle.
That was a top three highlight of my life, but the day wasn’t over.
That afternoon, after family lunch – which we called dinner – I did what I always did. I went to my friend Keith’s house where ten to twenty guys gathered to play basketball. Most of those guys were older than I, and I played the role of entertainer for the older guys.
My talent was my artistic use of profanity. I imitated Richard Pryor, the foul-mouthed comedian of the day, and my friends in their late teens found it interesting – funny, even – that a kid my age could – and would – cuss with such skill and ease.
Midway through the afternoon I realized what I was doing. My language was no different from what it had always been. My strong sense of the contrast between my afternoon behavior and what had happened that morning in church was embarrassing to me, especially since most of those guys playing basketball had also been in the worship service that morning. I felt like a terrible hypocrite, because I was.
I realized I had a decision to make. Would I apologize to all those guys and embrace the call to preach or would I reject that call and resume my life of living, and speaking, whatever way I wanted? I’m embarrassed to say I chose the latter.
I continued my life of choosing my own way over God’s way, and I don’t remember thinking of that Sunday experience again until ten years later when, at age twenty-one, I surrendered my life to Jesus and accepted His grace and His Lordship. After becoming a Christian, I soon remembered and embraced the call God had issued to me as an eleven-year-old. I still walk in that calling today, fifty years after that Sunday of calling-to-preach and cursing-for-fun.
So, what’s the one thing I would change in my past? My response to God’s call.
When the pastor asked me, “Gabe, do you know that Jesus is your Lord and Savior?” This would be my reply.
“Pastor Pope, I think God wants me to be a preacher, but I haven’t really even accepted Him as Lord and Savior. So this morning I want to ask Him to accept me and to help me accept Him and to help me walk with Him for the rest of my life and to help me to be the preacher he wants me to be.”
That’s it. That’s the one change I would make. I believe that would change so many things in my life for the better.
Let me pose the question to you. Please don’t take on any regret, self-pity or bitterness towards another as you consider your response; in short, let your answer honor God. If you could change one thing in your past, what would it be?
