The Night I Comitted to Christ

For me, the decision to follow Christ was not a small one. I knew what it meant. I had given the idea plenty of thought, plenty of time, and had counted the cost. Nothing would be held back, it would be total commitment, and the deed (to my life) would be signed over. If Christ is truly Lord, then nothing He asks (or commands) us to do it optional. So central was this truth to me that every action, every decision, and every aspect of my life would now have to be defined by Him.

The most annoying thing about truth is that it is true, making anything that contradicts it false. Christ is either God incarnate, risen from the dead, or either He is not. There is no halfway position here. If Jesus is not God, then His teachings hold no more authority over our lives than those of Confucius, Dr. Phil, or Oprah. We can take them or leave them. But if Christ is God, it changes everything – it means that everything He said was absolute truth and it must (of necessity) affect the way I live my life. Christ offers us an all-or-nothing proposition, and one way or another, everyone of us have already made a choice about Him. We have either committed our lives to Him whole-heartedly, or we have not.

There is no middle ground.

I think some people are willing to affirm Jesus as the Son of God in the same way one might support their political party or favorite sports team. He occupies one room in the “house” of their life, but He is not the foundation upon which the whole house stands. Big difference.

The night I committed my life to Christ, I sat on the edge of my bed trembling. It was decision time for me. I knew everything I needed to know – I had weighed the evidence, counted the cost, and worked my way through some important questions that troubled me. In the course of my seeking and searching, I think Christ revealed Himself to me as the One who IS Truth. Then I did what “doubting Thomas” did two thousand years ago. I fell to my knees and said, “My Lord and My God.” He became the complete authority in my life that night.

Think of your life as a house with many rooms. Your faith in God cannot be just one room in the house, equal with your job, your political affiliation, or your hobbies. No, your faith must be like the very air you breathe. It must fill and permeate your whole house, your vocation, your behavior at home, and your dealings with everyone around you – including the poor. That’s how deep our commitment must be.