I don’t remember a time when I did not believe that Jesus was my Savior. I distinctly remember taking the walk of faith at age six, and I’m told I pestered my parents about going to church when I was three.
Jesus became a mortal man to show his love for humanity; He died on the cross and was resurrected. Some say He was a Jew. He didn’t stop being Jewish, when He became my Savior. In fact, in understanding Jewish thought and theology, I feel a closer connection to him.
It’s an on-going relationship and fellowship. I’m nowhere near perfect, but I am forgiven. It doesn’t make me better than others; in fact, it makes me more responsible for my relationship with an attitude toward others.
Some Christians get hung up on other people’s sins. Personally, I know that my sin of failure to love my fellow man as I have been commanded is equal to, or greater than, the sins of others.
Love is what matters, and I do not reflect that enough. I try, and I’m trying — just ask anyone who knows me. The fact is, I may be the only evidence of Godly love that others experience.
Christ is not Jesus’ last name. It is a form of the Greek word christos, which means anointed. Jesus was anointed in his ministry, and Christians have an anointing upon them, too. Sometimes we fail to utilize our God given gifts and talents; we are all human.
My sincere hope is that at the close of the day, people are better off for my interaction. Jesus loves them, and I’m trying.
If people want to judge me harshly, or persecute me for being a Christian, that is not my concern. My concern is always keeping myself within His grace and mercy.