Fifty-two years ago, on January 24, 1974, in a little country church in Lance Creek, Wyoming, I became a new man in Christ. I did not walk in with answers. I walked in carrying need. That night marked the beginning of a journey of faith that I did not yet understand and could not have mapped if I tried.
I did not leave that church fully formed or suddenly wise. I left forgiven.
“Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come” (2 Corinthians 5:17).
That was true the moment I believed. But learning how to walk as that new man took a lifetime.
The years that followed were not a straight line. There were seasons of growth and seasons of doubt, times of obedience and times of failure. Faith did not always feel strong. Some days it felt thin and uncertain. Scripture never promised clarity at every step.
“For we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7).
And more than once, that walk was slow.
Those failures were not merely missteps or poor judgment. They were sin. Even after coming to Christ, there were moments when I chose my own way over obedience. Scripture never pretends that believers stop needing forgiveness.
“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).
What sustained me was not my consistency, but God’s. Forgiveness did not end the night I believed. It met me again and again along the way.
There were days I wondered if I was doing it right, and seasons when I knew I was not. I stumbled. I failed. I questioned myself. But God did not walk away.
“If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself” (2 Timothy 2:13).
Looking back now, I can see that I was carried through seasons I barely survived.
God’s patience has been the quiet constant. He corrected me when correction was needed and waited when waiting was required. He shaped things I could not see at the time.
“For the Lord disciplines the one He loves” (Hebrews 12:6).
That discipline was never punishment. It was preparation.
There were years when I thought I had missed my calling or wasted too much time. Only later did I see that God had not been idle. He was forming something deeper than activity. He was teaching endurance, humility, and faithfulness in unseen places.
“For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6).
That promise did not expire when I stumbled.
Now, looking back across decades, I can see threads I never noticed while I was living them. Conversations that mattered later. Losses that softened my heart. Delays that taught patience. Even failures that stripped away pride. None of it was random. God was preparing me long before I knew what I was being prepared for.
I understand now that faith is not proven by a perfect record, but by a faithful God.
“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness” (Psalm 103:8).
That truth has lived itself out in my life.
That night in Lance Creek did not finish the work. It started it. And after all these years, through ups and downs, doubts and growth, one truth stands unshaken. God has been faithful every step of the way, even when I did not yet know what He was doing.
“The Lord will accomplish what concerns me; Your lovingkindness, O Lord, is everlasting; do not forsake the works of Your hands” (Psalm 138:8).