About

They say every journey has a beginning — mine began when I met my wife. She was a devout Christian; I was not. She made it clear she could never marry someone who wasn't a believer. We could hang out, but that's all it would ever be. I also had one more strike against me: I was a smoker.

Quitting smoking came easier to me than most. Once I decided to quit, that was pretty much it.

But becoming a Christian? I didn't know the first thing about it. My family was never religious growing up. If I'm being honest, outside of funerals and the occasional wedding, I had only been to church once or twice with my grandmother.

That changed when I started attending with my soon-to-be wife's family. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I was surprised by what I found. I found what had been missing from my life. I found Jesus.

I had always believed in the Father and the Son, but I didn't know them. I didn't have a personal relationship with either — no more than I had one with the president of the United States. About ten months later, I was baptized.

I came for the girl and stayed for Jesus.