Justin Long Founder

Justin Long Founder

PERSONAL TESTIMONY.

My, but those words sound so ominous. They remind me of sonorous voices springing up to speak for hours while victims sit in hard, cold, wooden pews. Well, you’re lucky at least: you get to choose where you sit, and your own voice–which you’re probably more comfortable with–gets to read the words to you.

I’ve said from time to time my testimony is “boring.” I suppose I shouldn’t say that: how can I even dare to claim the salvation of Jesus’ sacrifice is “boring”? There was certainly nothing boring about his life: the Pharisees dogged him at every step, trying to defeat him. If they had been bored, I imagine they would have let him alone. Yet there was something infuriatingly holy about this man — something that showed them for what they were. Their pride couldn’t handle that, so they conspired, broke half their laws, tried him illegally, and sent him off to his death. Even then, he wasn’t boring: how many of you could be nailed to the most pain-inflicting instrument of the times, and still say, “Forgive them”? *I* couldn’t. I’d have been pronouncing curses on them until the very last second — especially if I knew I had the power to make my curses really work! No, his life and his death weren’t boring in the least, no matter what Satan’s propaganda campaign has been telling us for the past 1, 988 — excuse me, 1,989 years.

Still, you no doubt already know the life and times of the man called Jesus. You’re wondering about me. (or else, you downloaded this file out of curiosity, and are reading it simply to sate said emotion).

I was saved at six.

(no, no dragging me to the altar, no trembling confession of a thousand and one sins, no flushing of cocaine down the toilet, no agnonizing nights as I tried to get over alcoholism. Sorry.)

Through sixteen, I did rather well.

(my biggest sin was stealing my mom’s last Snicker bar.)

(Oh, well, unless you count the time when, at seven, I was determined I was going to run away — the thought lasted until darkness fell, and my best friend had to go in for supper.)

At seventeen, somehow I began looking at everything I COULDN’T do. Actually, I should phrase it — all I wouldn’t do. Couldn’t or wouldn’t, it doesn’t matter which. So when a pretty young girl blinked her lashes at me, suddenly all the years seemed to roll into one large lump of bitterness, and I started to draw aside. Seventeen, and I hadn’t had any fun. It was a crying shame!

The crying shame came later. We “went out” for quite some time — went to parties, went to the beach, went here, went there, went to movies — and finally the only unasked question was made. (Congratulations to me: the question wasn’t mine.)

How had it gone so far? How did it fall so quickly? Suddenly, I found myself in a situation I had little control over, and I felt rotten.

I said no.

Since then, I’ve climbed back out. It wasn’t much. We didn’t “go all the way.” In fact, she never even took off her necklace. We’re still fairly good friends today.

But it began when I got my eyes off all I had, and started looking at all I had not. My witness is not for sinners, but for Christians. I urge you: remember the man who discovered a treasure in a field. He rushed home, calling for his wife to sell all. His neighbors laughed at him, scorned him, ignored him — until he began to dig, dig, dig in his newly purchased land. And when he began pulling up jewels, and gold, and silver… my point is proven. Did he sit up at night pondering the hundred dollar cart he’d sold, when each ruby was worth a couple thousand? Did he whine over his fifty thousand dollar home, when each diamond was worth half a million? Why should we cry about how much he’d given up for God, when he has given us everything?

Please, please! The warning signs are coming. The end of the world could be just around the corner. I am not a doomsayer, but I look at the signs of the times. The years ahead, if not the endtime tribulation, will be times that could very well stress and strain the Christian church to a near breaking point. Never forget what you have gained in Christianity. The question is not, “How much have you lost?” The thought is, “How much I have gained!”

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in his wonderful face.
And the things of this world will grow strangely dim In the light of his glory and grace.

Why turn to Jesus? Why keep true to him? If you take one look at what he offers, you will spurn everything this world will give you. If you peer deep within his eyes, the question becomes, “Why not?”