"Have ye not known? Have ye not heard? Hath it not been told you from the beginning? Have ye not understood from the foundations of the earth? It is he that sitteth upon the circle of the earth and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers; that stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in:"

These words are from Isaiah 40:21-22. This is my new memory passage.

Last night, as I rehearsed these verses while trying to go sleep, I rambled into thoughts about Christopher Columbus and the new world discovery. It has been said that a passage in Isaiah is what sparked him to realize the earth was round and not flat.

I began pondering the discoveries we make as human beings. Those flashes of light when the switch is  flipped and we see IT for the first time. Not just learning something new, but assimilating IT into our very fiber as a new part of who we are.

My walk with Jesus began that way. It was on August 27, 1981 at the age of 17 that I realized my need for a savior. Oh, I knew there was a God. I realized that as a small child. I was fascinated by the little things in his creation. My dad was always explaining things like how ants can dig holes, and how grasshoppers can jump.  My father's parents were members of a large Baptist church. When I spent weekends with them, they would take me and my brother to church on Sunday. On those same weekends, we were also privileged to hear our great grandmother Daughtery yell her nightly prayers. Note to self: Blog about Minnie Daughtery sometime. What a character!

My mother kept a family Bible on top of a cedar chest at the foot of her bed. One evening while she was putting some things away in her room, I climbed up on her bed and began looking at the pictures inside. There was a picture of Jesus dying on the cross. I began to cry. I asked my mom what was happening in the picture. She sat on the bed and explained to me the events of the picture. I remember going to church the following Sunday with my parents. We visited a local Baptist church where I met with the pastor and was asked if I wanted to be baptized. I was five or six years old. I was not scared of much, so I said yes!  The old bald headed man with black horn rimmed glasses smiled and escorted me into the sanctuary were my friend, the cafeteria lady from my school, Mrs. Cook, grabbed my hand and began shaking it and smiling down at me saying, "I am so proud of you."

I went through elementary school with my parents attending church. They tried to live right before me. I tried to be good. Life was good! God was good! He is still God and he is in control. But I was still in the dark. The light had flashed, but I had not stepped into yet!