What would I be if Jesus hadn’t saved me? Where would I be? Who would I be?
I agree with C. S. Lewis that “what if” is something we are never given. We only can know what is and choose what might be.
But what if I had never chosen to follow?
I’m far from home right now and thinking of my family. I would not know any of them. I would never held my own children or rocked them to sleep. I would never have laughed with my grandson or held his hand. I would not have been there to help his brother through fussiness and a tired mom. I could not be there for my sons, through fights and sorrows, through fears and and victories. I would never have kissed my wife or known her passion.
I would not know music, the struggles to get better, the dance that is ignited in my heart as I play and sing. I would not know the joyful faces of those that I lead in worship. I would not have taught any to practice, to discipline themselves for something greater. I would never have joined them, prayed for them, worried over them as they began their own walk of faith.
There were others before my family began. There was music before I knew Jesus. So, I hear the question in my mind, “how do you know what would have been? Maybe it would have been better?”
Only those who have never felt the presence of God could ask this. To sense Him in the midst of the mundane and often horrible, sets every moment on a higher plane. Yes, I still get angry, fearful, selfish and everything else. But I still remember the hopelessness, the futility of my own answers to life’s questions. I still remember the hatred and violence that came out in my words, in my actions.
Where would I be? Certainly not here. And here is so good!