M

y life began in a teal house in Carson City, Nevada, to two Seventh-day Adventist Christian parents. I was raised with the belief that there is a God who is deeply involved in my welfare and has a special place for those who love Him to spend blissful eternity. As the firstborn, I had a lot of responsibility to set the example for my would-be six younger siblings. I was a natural introvert and very shy. My mother homeschooled me for preschool and kindergarten. I was such an innocent child. 

But after my first year in elementary school, I started to catch an attitude. I developed a violent temper which would plague me for many years to come. I started ignoring my teachers’ instructions to do my schoolwork. After all, math is boring and so is grammar, so who needs to pay any attention in class? I had more important things to occupy my mind⁠—like the next wisecrack I would make without regard to appropriate timing. Before long, I had fallen behind in my math abilities. Way behind. I would look at my math papers and realize I was hopelessly unable to do them. So I just didn’t. 

But school was not the greatest of my troubles. My parents had arranged for me to attend a summer camp. I went there for a week as an underaged camper and was significantly shorter and physically weaker than all my peers. That spelled trouble for me when I would deliberately annoy some of the biggest and baddest of my fellow male campers. During the course of that week, I was tormented by those bullies. They broke into the shower when I was using it; they ganged up on me to try to give me a swirlee (putting my head in the toilet and flushing it); they detained me in my cabin and slammed the door on my hand when I tried to escape, injuring my fingers; they pantsed me (pulled my pants down) in my cabin and threatened to do it again in front of the girls. This all happened in the absence of my cabin’s counselor. Needless to say, I walked away from that camp a wounded boy physically, mentally, and spiritually. My heart harbored resentment and my spirit was ravaged. My life was in upheaval. My violent temper caused me to lose self-control and destroy property at the snap of a finger. I was on the path to prison. 

My poor grades were threatening my hope of a meaningful future. I would hit my head on my desk out of frustration. I was convinced that I was a dummy. I was on the path to failure. 

My emotional scars from camp had me questioning the meaning of life, morality, and my very existence. I was on the path to suicide. 

I was on the path to destruction, but then there was Jesus. I had grown up in the church, but I never learned the basics of Salvation. When I finally surrendered my life to Christ, I believed in Jesus (John 3:16-17), confessed my sins to God (1 John 1:9), and was baptized (Mark 16:16). My life did not magically become carefree, but it did become changed. Bit by bit, through lots of prayer, striving and grace, Christ led me to a new life in Him.

God led my dad to assign me to read the book of Proverbs once a month until my anger issues were solved. The Holy Spirit helped me overcome my violent temper and I am now on the path to self-control. 

With the help of my dad, an understanding teacher, and God, I overcome my terrible grades. I joined the Boy Scouts and have become an Eagle Scout. I graduated high school with highest honors and scored in the 93rd percentile on the ACT. I am now on the path to success. 

Finally, God led me to forgive those bullies who treated me so horribly. He showed me that since Christ forgave me of my sins against Him, I must also be willing to forgive those who have sinned against me. I am now on the path of hope. 

Because of Christ, I am on the path of life.