I rambled through college years, aimless and confused. I was trying to find a track to run on, a course to stay my compass. Mostly I found solace in escaping my conscience. I spent many days (years) partying and trying to suppress the reality of my need – of what I did not know. I had friends, money, education, a promising future, and lots of "fun" "extracurricular activities". So, why so empty O my soul?

There were events that God strung together in my experience like pearls to grace my neck and weigh me down. This may not make any sense to you, but if God has worked in your life to get your attention, I am sure you could share some pearls of your own.

I remember my first heavy dose of conscience. It was a summer vacation (’71). I was camping and shooting a BB gun I was given. I had been shooting at squirrels, lizards, birds, etc. None were harmed badly. Then I walked upon a frog and shot him in the head at a very close range. I was overcome with remorse from my conscience. I realized that I took an innocent life. I saw at once my own propensity toward and partnership with evil. I didn’t tell anyone but I was heavy in heart and knew I needed help. I again "lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." (Ps. 121:2)

I remember one day at college. A man named Jeb used to go onto the Commons (a large open lawn area in the middle of campus where we used to hand out between and sometimes during classes) and preach the gospel. I was pretty good at debate so I thought I would make sport with him. I went out to specifically make  foolishness of his pathetic religious beliefs. He was kind and did not rebuttal although I am now sure he could have shamed me with my lack of knowledge of spiritual things. My conscience once again hounded me and I once again saw my sin and my need for help. I once again "lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." (Ps. 121:2)

I remember when I was a senior in high school how my Uncle Barry (see part 1), who was a pastor, came looking for me. He was in town from Boise Idaho and wanted to see me. Instinctively, (or should I say naturally) I avoided him. He found me at the neighborhood park where I was playing a game called paddleball with my friends. I summarily ignored him and dismissed him. I once again got struck by my conscience and experience the sense of my need for forgiveness. Where could I go but to the only place I had found peace, I again "lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." (Ps. 121:2)

These events and others like them continued to strike my conscience, till one day when I was 23 I was in a near state of depression and knew I needed Someone to help me. I had recently met a young man who was visibly Christlike . I did not know that was what I saw but I suspected as much. I (to my own amazement) asked him if he went to church and if I could go some time . He was glad to oblige and we met the next week. Little did I know I was signed up for Sunday School as well. I went not knowing what to expect but that I was supposed to go (this was my response to His call). Well in two hours I found myself walking up an aisle full of tears and bowing at the altar and asking God to forgive me and come into my life. It was like I was in a trance. The Helper got a jumpstart in me.

I began immediately to share the Good News of the gospel with others. Funny thing is I didn’t know it, but the Spirit in me knew how to use my broken, contrite spirit and place words into my mouth. I was an evangelist from the first day on.

I plugged into that church and began to learn about my faith, Jesus Christ and all Gods promises. I went to seminars, conferences, prayer meetings, everything. I even went to EE training in the first year of my new life. Boy it was exciting.

But then, then, God slowly pulled the fun out of it. He wanted to see what I was running on, my own feelings or sincere love for Him. It was actually both. But once the feelings began to dissipate I became anxious. Wanting to revitalize these feelings I began pouring myself into Christian activity, and all the things that had been told to me over the years that good Christians do.

I had unwittingly been released from the bondage of sin only to become bound once again by my own Self to religious activity and good works. It did not matter who I looked to for help – they all had the same answers. Read your Bible, go to church, memorize scripture, teach Sunday school, pray, serve in the church, share your faith. I was doing all these and it was a lie. God is not in my efforts. I once again knew by God’s Spirit to "lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." (Ps. 121:2)

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