Puzzle Pieces 3

In the first part of my little story, I found out that God created the world; after that, I learned what church was, and that God loved me. In this third part of my journey of faith, I was given one of the most important pieces to the puzzle.

It was 1976 and my family lived in Oakville, Ontario. I attended Falgarwood Public School; Mr. Harris was my homeroom teacher. That year, the Gideons came to visit our school. They gave me a little red New Testament and Psalms; they gave them to all the fifth grade students. My friend Cathy and I were very excited by these. I have always loved books, especially little books, and this one intrigued me, because I knew that God wrote the bible. I don’t know how I knew or, or who told me, and I’m sure I didn’t have any understanding of divine inspiration or anything like that. Cathy and I set out to read our New Testaments. There was a convenient daily reading plan, and we decided to follow it. After school that day, we went to my house and made our own bookmarks to keep our pages. We began our reading with the gospel according to Matthew. Well, I’m sure you can predict how well that went. Whoever tells young people to read the gospel of John first does a wise thing; but no one told us that. We just started at the most logical place. It didn’t go well; we ran out of steam in the first week.

There is a lot of discussion among theologians about what comes first regeneration or belief. Do I believe because I’ve been regenerated or am I regenerated because I believe? I can tell you that I know that my church tends toward the second option but I don’t. I continued to read that New Testament over the years, finally learning that I could pick and choose what I wanted to read. I especially loved the Psalms. I had an idea that they were used in prayers, because that’s what they sounded like to me. I loved the section of my New Testament that contained: “Where to find help when….” There were all kinds of verses to give comfort when one was anxious, grieving, or tempted. I looked up these verses, and read them, and cognitively understood them, but all the reading I did at various times over the years didn’t change me at all. And I don’t think it was because I had trouble with the actual reading. I was always a very good reader, and I always had a good vocabulary. When I was sixteen years old, I began really reading in earnest, and it didn’t change me then, either. There was always a lot of effort, but things still weren’t clear to me. I didn't know God any better for all my studying. Something had to happen to me before I could really have those words change me; I had to be regenerated.

Being given God’s word was a wonderful thing. We had a bible in the house, but if I had ever wanted to look at it, my mother seemed a little bothered. I could keep this New Testament in my room and read it whenever I wanted. Paul tells us in Romans 1 that the gospel is the power of God for salvation. The gospel is contained within the pages of the Bible. I had within my possession the means by which I could hear the gospel and believe. I just needed someone to give me a roadmap.

Next time, the Troublesome Teens Years.