When I was growing up I had several friends. One friend in particular comes to mind when I think about my relationship with God. I wasn’t especially close to him, but we did do things together occasionally. We attended the same school from kindergarten through much of high school, but that entire time I don’t think I ever stepped foot inside of his house.

One major event stands out in my mind that will always be a part of my life. In about the third grade he invited me to Sunday School at Mt Tabor Presbyterian Church. It was early on a warm summer morning and I remember walking to Sunday School on my own and meeting him there. His mother was the teacher and I was so excited to be a part of something big. What I’m talking about here is my first time realizing that I am going to meet God, and at a Church that has been around for over 100 years. To an eight year old, this was good stuff. This was important. I was being called to bigger things… and I felt it.

The winding flight of stairs ended in a large hall. We entered the classroom and I remember seeing all the other kids. I didn’t know any of them. I had lived in the neighborhood for most of my life, (all seven or eight years by this point) and I didn’t recognize a single kid in my neighborhood church.

I don’t recall much from that Sunday other that this. God met me there. I know now that He formed me in my mother’s womb and created me before the beginning of time, but to me right then… He finally met me. I never went to Sunday School with my friend again. Or if I did I really don’t recall it. But I knew God and He knew me. And that was enough for now.

Do you have a story of meeting God you would like to share. Feel free to leave it in a comment.

I would love to hear it.

Blessings,
Keith