The Me That Was

When I look back over my life, I have so many memories of things I've said and done that make me cringe and want to duck.

I especially think of times that I tried to share my faith with others. Times when I was bold, but insensitive. Times I said things that may have been true, but did not heal or build up. Things I've confessed and professed. Ideas and advice I've shared. I get shivers just thinking of it.

In the words of Napolean Dynamite,
"Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

The problem with looking back on stuff I'm embarrassed about, is that I'm looking back.

A few days ago, I read a post by my bad christian friend about his regrets over street evangelizing. I have to say, while reading it, I felt that old familiar cringe. WHAT WAS I THINKING BACK THEN??? The me with no makeup, no slacks, no bible other than the KJV, no worldview outside my church walls. The me I can no longer relate to, that I'd probably not even be friends with if we were together in time.

Time betrays us. We grow through life like a plate shifts in the earth. Sometimes it happens abruptly and our world is visibly changed. Most of the time it happens without us knowing it.

The only time we have is the time we're in. We live, act, and react based on the people we are in the moment we are living. If we are honest and faithful, we are operating on the best information we have in that moment in time. In retrospect, I think we have to trust that.

I've heard so many sermons, so many testimonies, so many sure-fire answers over the years that, when I look back on the content now, I can't believe I sat still in my seat to hear. I've given so many tracts to so many people I didn't know, and expounded doctrine I had no experiential knowledge of to listening ears, and now believe is wrong. Yet, if I remember correctly, I've also seen God move in those times.

God is so, so gracious. He really does just ask that we show up. He knows we don't have skills, yet he treats us like Donald Trump's favorite. I was thinking today about the farside cartoon where the guy is talking to his dog, and dog is hearing, "blah blah blah, blah, blah blah," and how it's kind of the reverse with God. We babble on, "blah blah blah," and somehow God takes that and uses it and touches people's hearts.

This isn't to say that I think street evangelism in America is not outdated and ineffective. I can't make that call. But I've decided to give myself a break about who I was and how I did things way back when. If I was good enough for God, I guess I should be good enough for me.