I was four years old when I accepted Jesus. And thank you Jesus! That was long before hormones ruled and condemnation entered the picture. I was not immune from the slings and arrows that Christians, not Jesus, threw. I fell many times listening to the evil things exposed by a “good Christians”. What I was slow to pick up on was Jesus was always there when I reached out. I grew up a preacher’s kid and saw my father treated terribly by Christians. My mother even told me the reason was, “God knows the people that really need saving.”
I once found myself in a jeep on the Olympic Peninsula being driven by a highly intoxicated twenty-something, on a narrow gravel road at high speed. The guy asked me if I was afraid. I said, “No.” He turned the headlights out, and asked me, “Now?” I turned to him and said, “Jesus has a plan for my life, you are safer with me in the car.” He slowed down, turned the lights on, and never spoke to me again.