I’m reading through a book right now called “Breaking The Discipleship Code” by David Putman and I’ll do an extensive book review on it later but I wanted to write a quick post on something that struck me last night as I read the opening pages. This paragraph brought me to tears:

As a young boy, I found hope in the stories I heard in church. I can remember being drawn to the ones in which the young boys became the heroes: Joseph and his coat of many colors, David as he stood against Goliath, the nameless boy who came to the rescue of the hungry crowd with his two fishes and five loaves of bread. Often I envisioned myself coming to the rescue of my own broken family. I dreamed of what life could be like if God used me to intervene in their lives. I never gave up. I always believed that there was a God in heaven who still delivered little boys from their giants. The amazing thing is that God heard my prayers. Years passed and at about the time my childhood prayers began to fade, God delivered me.

The reason it brought me to tears was because of the deep resonation it has with my own personal journey and how God has brought me to the place of planting Eternity. I can remember myself as an altar boy in church as a young boy. I can remember myself learning the stories of the Bible. I can remember myself wanting to be like Jesus. I can remember praying to a God in heaven that he would take hurts and pains of a broken family away. I can remember all of it.

And God delivered me. And now I am envisioning and passionately expecting what it will be like for me to be used to intervene in the lives of other little boys who dream about being the hero. I dream about what it will be like for Eternity to be the catalyst for thousands being delivered from their broken pasts and families.

I dream about what it will be like for Eternity to be a place where tens of thousands experience the God who delivers little boys from their giants. If he did it for me, I know he’ll do it for anyone.