Who, Me?

I must have been about five when my Mom introduced the pill powered toy scuba diver to my collection of bathtub exploration devices. The toy scuba diver quickly became one of my favorites and was the star of my bathtub re-enacted episodes of Sea Hunt, the TV show where Mike Nelson took on the bad guys of the aquatic underworld in daring scenes of hand-to-hand underwater combat. Mike Nelson was every kids role model in 1960 and in the midst of those bathtub battles I was convinced someday I would be disarming nuclear missiles and rescuing downed Air Force pilots. 

This was a great time to be a kid in the United States, where warm summer days were filled with hours of outdoor activities, drinking from garden hoses and snacking on wild sour grass. Author Billy Bryson in his book, The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, describes this time as “…when automobiles and televisions and appliances (not to mention nuclear weapons) grew larger and more numerous with each passing year, and DDT, cigarettes, and the fallout from atmospheric testing were considered harmless or even good for you.” 

This was the decade when President Kennedy would ask our nation to send a man to the moon and return him safely to earth. This was the decade of Viet Nam, the civil rights movement a drug-induced cultural revolution. This was the decade when two Kennedy’s and a King would be assassinated. I was too young to grasp the gravity of these events, but I could sense it because it troubled my parents.

Candy Instead of Christ

God wasn’t in our family. There was a feint attempt by my parents to go to church, but they were never very serious about it. My Dad insisted the church just wanted his money, justified by his being asked by a church elder to donate money for a new organ at the church. That was all the evidence he needed to confirm this “church thing” as a racket. But at least we were going to church. Until one Sunday, I realized they were dropping me off but not attending the grown-up services. That was all the evidence I needed to decide it was okay for me not to go too, so for the next few weeks I walked around downtown buying candy with the money intended for the offering. It didn’t take long for me to be found out and that was the end of church for our family.

It’s unfortunate, because I was another forty years figuring out that I needed God in my life. I needed a transfusion of what God had for me to replace everything I had put there. Perhaps not everything, but a lot. Not that I wasn’t being blessed. My life was great and I have a terrific family, but I missed out on so much by not having the benefit of a relationship with Him. I also missed out on not knowing who to thank for the great things that were happening or a counselor to go to when they weren’t. 

A popular C.S. Lewis quote states that God often uses a megaphone to get our attention. This was mostly true for me, but for some it’s more like a gentle gravitational pull in His direction. I have been blessed enormously through my relationship with Christ, as He has caused me to grow in ways previously unknown to me. His firm but gentle guidance has led me to a better understanding of who He is and who I am not.

And that is all one can ask.

[This is the first of a series on "How I Became A Compassion Child Advocate]