choice

Can We Choose Our Identity?

Can We Choose Our Identity?

I was fourteen years old, 5’9” and 130 pounds. My backpack hung loosely over my shoulders and butterflies filled my stomach. It was the first day of high school. I navigated the path from my fourth period class toward the cafeteria in a sea of three thousand mostly new faces. Who would I sit with? I saw the group of guys I had hung around with in middle school: jocks who had made those three years fairly miserable for me.

I scanned the grass and picked out the groups: band kids, several kids playing chess, kids playing pick-up basketball. I saw one gathering playing Dungeons and Dragons.

Tempted and Able

Tempted and Able

The first thing Lauren told me after I was baptized, besides, “I'm proud of you,” and, “I love you,” was, “Be prepared.” I thought that odd, considering.  At that time in my walk with Christ, I was no stranger to naïveté and had reassured myself in the quiet place that baptism would scare away all my demons, that I would be made whole by the water grave, never to fall from grace again.  On the contrary, my bride's words bore much truth.  I had not prepared myself in the least.  I did not understand the battle that was being waged over my flesh.