Growing up in Fair Oaks, California, in the 1980s was almost like living in an episode of The Wonder Years. Even though Kevin Arnold and Winnie Cooper were going through adolescence in the late 60s and early 70s, Kevin and I were kind of like kindred spirits.

I lived in a neighborhood with a bunch of other kids my age, riding bikes, playing touch football in the street and trading baseball cards.  I wondered if the girl in my class liked me, or liked me liked me. I had big dreams back in those days – I was either going to be an NBA point guard or run the Detroit Tigers. Like Kevin and his siblings, my brothers and I never doubted my parents’ love for each other or for us.

Sundays were for more of the same. Playing sports. Watching sports. Pretending I didn’t have homework due the next day. Like almost all of my friends, church wasn’t really a part of the picture. I never really thought about God. However, I did know I didn’t think much of the people sitting in gaudy furniture, wearing gaudy clothes and sporting bad hairdos that I saw every time I flipped past the Christian television channel.

In fact, it wasn’t until I was in college in the early 90s that I started thinking about God. A close friend who I had grown up with constantly reminded me that God loves me. It wasn’t until I considered who the person that was telling me this was that I started to give the thought credence. She was someone I was very close to, someone I knew and trusted. I watched her live her life in a way that was true, doing her best to honor God in everything she did, no matter how easy or difficult it was.

I wanted to be like her. As I began to read about Christianity and about who Jesus was, I knew that was what I wanted. On Dec. 13, 1993, sitting outside the bookstore at American River College, a guy in my Journalism 101 class sat down beside me and began to talk about what Jesus had done in his life. I had barely spoken to him all semester, but here he was telling me about this amazing experience of a life with Christ, and I wanted that. Sitting on that slab, I asked Jesus to be my Savior.

The next day, as planned, I loaded up a U-Haul trailer and moved to Illinois, transferring to a university in the heart of the state. I was adjusting to new surroundings, but I did know that I was going to try this whole Christianity thing out. I was sincere about asking Jesus into my heart, but I was too afraid to tell anyone. Who knows what they would think of me? Am I good enough to go into a church?

Now, alone at a new school and unsure of how to act or what to do, I wondered if I would be accepted in a church. I mean, it wasn’t too long before that I considered Christians hypocritical, dull and totally unable to recognize a bad haircut when they saw one. But now, it was time to take a risk. Surely, my preconceived notions were all in my mind.

As I walked up the steps to the front door of the church, the woman standing out front greeted people she’d obviously known for years with smiles, handshakes and hugs.

“You’ll be fine,” I told myself as my heart raced. “It’s church. They’re just happy someone new showed up.”

When I got to the top of the steps a few feet from the door, the woman smiled at me, and I felt at ease. I smiled back. Then she greeted me with…

“Young man, where is your coat and tie?”

I really wasn’t good enough to go in there.

“Oh, I’ve got some in my dorm room. I’ll go back and get them.”

I was lying. I did go back to my room. But as I made that walk, I vowed that I was done with church, and with Christianity, too. I stayed true to my word for the rest of my college career.

Two years later I graduated and moved to Texas to begin a career working in college athletics. Not long after I got there, I met a young lady who was attending the university where I worked. We became friends, began dating, and eventually fell in love.

I was advancing professionally, and I had the love of my life beside me. We planned to spend the rest of our lives together. We had an amazing future ahead of us.

On April 5, 2000, my world crashed down when she was killed in a car accident. In the days and weeks ahead, I walked around in a daze where I didn’t care about anything. I felt only despair and confusion, and I just wanted to be buried in the ground next to her. My entire future revolved around my life with her. And now that was gone.

I was 26 years old, and I had no future.

A few months later, still in that daze of hopelessness, I thought back to December 13, 1993 for the first time in years. I remembered sitting on a cold cement slab, asking God to save me. I remembered the great relief I felt that day. I remembered the fear of the unknown, and the excitement for the future.

Then, I broke down. For more than six years, I told myself, I had cheated God. The truth was I had cheated myself of what God was wanting to do in my life.

The next morning, I got up and walked the mile or so to the church down the street. Those same fears I held when I walked up the steps of the church across from my dorm six years ago resurfaced. This time, however, I resolved that I was going to walk inside, whether that lady was standing in front of the door or not.

She wasn’t. I don’t remember much about that day, other than we sang songs and the preacher preached. I remember thinking about what I had lost. I mourned by myself, and I faked a smile. I made it through the day. I went back the next week. And the week after that.

I sang songs, and the preacher preached. I attended the singles group, even though in my mind I wasn’t sure I was single. I prayed, even though I was pretty sure I wasn’t doing it right. I wondered what people meant when they kept talking about “having a relationship” with Jesus.

But after awhile, something began to happen. I began to heal. I began to build relationships, first with others in the singles group, even though I really didn’t want to be in a singles group. Eventually, I began to build a relationship with Jesus.

For the first time in a long time, I felt hope. I began to understand that I really did have a future in front of me, even if I had no clue what that future looked like.

I sang songs, and the preacher preached. I read the Bible and tried to figure out what it meant. I prayed. I stopped caring if I was doing it right.

I met a woman. We became friends. We started dating. And eventually, we fell in love.

She was in my singles group.

We stopped being single on July 5, 2003, when we were married. Years later, we have two children and I am in love like I never thought I could be.

I sure didn’t see that coming in April 2000.

Funny how that stuff works. I’m starting to realize that it’s hard to see God’s plan without a rearview mirror. I don’t have any desire to relive the past, but I do enjoy looking back and seeing where God was working in my life when I didn’t even know it. The people and the experiences in my life have all been a part of becoming who God wants me to be. It’s a work in progress, for sure. But the progress is worth the work.

There is one thing I do know: I can’t wait to see what the future holds.