Accidentally left my ESV journaling Bible at home this morning and ended up doing my morning reading in the office in my childhood Bible, a bonded leather NASB reference edition full of my adolescent scribblings and highlighting. Was reminded by its well-worn pages that 1990 was the year I heard God's call to ministry. Since I'm decent at elementary math, I then realized this year marks the 20th anniversary of that call.
I've been a miserable failure and a grievous sinner since then. But as I sit in the pastor's study of a 200+ year old New England church, staring down my 35th birthday next week, I am amazed, pleased, and grateful that God is faithful to be finishing the work he began in my 8th grade heart. If he is willing, by his grace I hope to be here decades more.