My Father's Faith Made My Own - By Aaron Sorensen
I was raised as a Christian, in a family where my father took this seriously and raised both my brother and me to hold a high view of the Scripture, of God and to take seriously the person of Jesus. He modeled for us what it meant to be a Christian and what it looked like to follow Jesus. At a young age I accepted Jesus as my savior.
Although I was raised a Christian, as I attended college, as I grew less repentant, my life and behavior looked like and resembled my secular friendships. My belief and world view was best described in three words; God loves me and not that I loved God.
By the time I was married I still professed to be a Christian who was loved by Jesus, who loved his family and was kind to his neighbors. My wife had become a Christian who insisted I go to our new Church. Being a Christian had become a philosophy. This “Christian Philosophy” of mine had become practicing mere kindness, a nice gesture or a good feeling. Within this Philosophy Jesus had become what I wanted him to be, silent and small.
Maintaining the façade of Christianity was becoming more difficult for me. I was convicted through Church sermons that although I believed Jesus loved me, I did not love Jesus. My alcoholism became reckless and my Church attendance decreased.
On one night my wife invited me to go to Church with her on a Saturday evening as she was scheduled to assist in Children’s Church. I reluctantly agreed. I was frustrated that I would have to remain sober all day on a Saturday. I miserably sat through a Saturday evening service. Nothing special happened throughout the service. To this day I don’t remember what the sermon was about. Everything went as it always had, as the pastor prayed and dismissed us I stood feeling excited that I could go home and drink. The lights went dim as the pastor gave the benediction. It was then that something happened that I’ll never be able to communicate clearly. I heard Jesus speak to me. The most dramatic language I can use to describe this experience will never adequately describe how it felt, or what this meant to me. It was not an audible voice, it was not a loud voice, but it was intense. I was immediately convicted and convinced that I stood a man who had rejected and rebelled against Jesus. This made me afraid, overjoyed and overwhelmed. That night I became aware for the first time that Jesus was worthy of more than my full attention. That was the night I repented, I became sober and that was the night I became a Christian.