Each year toward the end of June I think about the beginnings of my walk with God. Something real and deep occurred late one evening on the 27th of June 1967, that makes 44 years in the faith.
I am the same person, but lots of water has gone under the bridge of life. No matter what things are going on in my life there is this constant unshakable belief that God called me into fellowship with Him, and the I did not deserve it, but have been aware of His presence and thankful for His gentle guidance and patience through all these years.
It feels as though I have had a lot of freedom to make my own decisions and lots of acceptance to my own unique sets of strengths and weaknesses. I am able to see the mistakes I have made in the context of "a long slow obedience in the same direction", as Peterson puts it.
I absolutely do not feel special in any way, but blessed in every way. Since I hang around with a lots of friends older than I am, I really have a desire to keep on trucking and make some more anniversaries. My times are in His hand, and that is enough for me.
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