Do I start my story with God’s promise to Abraham? Or Peter’s sermon to the Gentiles? Or I could start when my ancestors first became believers and made vows to raise their children in the Lord. I guess I’ll start in Colorado Springs, Colo., at my baptism, when I was just weeks old. There, the Lord visibly placed His name on me through the hands and mouth of my pastor and grandpa, J. Paul McCracken.

My family, on both sides, has been part of the Reformed Presbyterian Church for a while now. Many people comment on this great heritage—and I very much agree. But the history of my blood-line is nothing in comparison to my spiritual heritage. When my ancestors became Christians, they were joined into the same heritage I have today—we had the name of the Triune God placed on us. This is much greater than any human name.

The Lord has been faithful to generations of my family, as He’s been faithful to every generation of His family since Adam. This spiritual heritage means that, in many ways, the people in my church—whether first generation Christian or fifth—are just as much my brothers and sisters and cousins and aunts and uncles as my blood relatives.

Early Years

It was amazing to have the Lord’s name placed on me in baptism; it was possibly even greater for Him to work saving faith in me, that I might claim His name as He had claimed me. Though braids were not always finished when it was time to leave for church, Sunday after Sunday our parents brought my siblings (four girls and a boy) to be in God’s presence and hear Christ’s words from the pulpit. And though it often meant dragging us from all corners of the house, we were taught about the Scriptures in family devotions, and encouraged to read and pray on our own.

Being part of Christ’s blood-bought family and seeing His love modeled through the church and my parents would have meant nothing, though, if it were not for the Lord working faith in me to believe that what Scripture said was true and that I needed Christ as my Savior.

This is a common story, but nonetheless remarkable. Just as many adult converts were not looking to be converted, neither was I (to my memory) looking to be saved as an infant. And yet, the Lord was merciful to me before I could physically ask. And just as many adult converts first experience God’s love through His people, so I experienced His love through my parents and church, learning as I grew older to appreciate His love.

So, from my birth, the Lord was seeking me out and pursuing me.

This is my testimony in a sentence: God is graciously pursuing me, gradually opening my eyes more and more to my wretched state, but, at the same time, to His great love and mercy, which He has already showered on me, and which He continues to give, day by day.

Finding my Identity

I was homeschooled until high school, when I started attending a Christian school. I was one of the few kids in my class who hadn’t attended there since kindergarten. I was shy, awkward, and self-conscious. Thankfully, I was able to make friends with my basketball and soccer teammates, and eventually others in the school.

One would hope that, since I was saved at such a young age, I would naturally find my identity in Christ. Sadly, like the Israelites (we share some family traits), I was easily led astray—both by ex-ternal influences and my own sin. Ironically, I think my insecurity ultimately stemmed from pride: a desire to be well-liked. I struggled with trying to be a good Christian while being consumed with other people’s opinions of me.

Thankfully, the Lord knew my weakness and gave me an excellent role model and friend—my old-er sister by a year and half. She encouraged me to find my identity in Christ rather than sports or popularity or whatever else. She was sometimes embarrassingly (to me) oblivious to other people’s opinions. But it was clear that she was rooted in Christ and driven by a desire to glorify Him and have others do the same.

Through her and others, the Lord taught me that the solution to insecurity is having an identity in Christ. Only then could I stop having an inward focus and instead think of how I could honor the Lord and love others.

I mention this somewhat trivial high school experience because it’s one marker where I can see the Lord faithfully pursuing me. He was showing me how bad it is to serve other masters. To spend my life serving my desires and seeking other people’s approval would be miserable—whether I was successful or not. Christ is an infinitely kinder master.

Finding Forgiveness

The Lord was also teaching me humility. Not only did I need to see my own pride, I needed to see how utterly incapable I was of overcoming it. I needed to see how much I needed Christ each day, for both forgiveness and cleansing.

It was hard for me to learn how serious my own sin was. I looked like a good kid: I didn’t have a curfew because I always came home at a decent time. I never had to worry about bad grades keep-ing me from playing in games. And I was nice to my friends and respectful to my teachers. Be-cause I looked like a good kid, it was easy to believe that my sin was not that bad.

Starting in high school, my pride led me to nearly ruin my relationship with my dad. I resented his advice and gradually shut him out more and more. I shudder to think of what our relationship could have become if left to my own devices.

One day my dad came down to my room and told me he was concerned with how I acted like a kind and good person to the world, but at home I was cold and distant with him. He told me that’s not how a Christian lives. Those words made me very angry. But the Lord eventually used them to wake me up and soften me.

The whole experience showed me how serious my sin was. I could have ruined one of the most important relationships of my life! As serious as it would have been to cut off my earthly father, this same pride would have kept me from my heavenly Father.

I couldn’t love the one who saw my heart while I refused to love the earthly father He gave me to love and honor. I needed to repent to the Lord first, and then to my dad. Without the Spirit’s work of conviction, I would have been blind to everything.

How sweet forgiveness is! It is just as Psalm 51 teaches us: while it is painful to recognize the ug-liness of my sin, there is great joy in forgiveness and reconciliation. It is still hard for me to acknowledge my sin that manifests each day, but the joy of salvation is made greater when we con-fess our sin.

Finding Home

These lessons are hard to learn and hard to remember. Remember the Israelites who were dull of heart? Yeah, that’s me, way too often. It’s discouraging. But the Lord uses all things for our good and His glory. Even my slowness to learn reminds me of how great His love is. He not only died for me, but is willing to slowly and patiently teach me to turn to Him.

After high school, I went to college in Iowa. Then I returned to Colorado Springs, Colo., for a few years before moving to Pittsburgh, Pa., where I now attend and work for the Reformed Presbyteri-an Theological Seminary.

The Lord has given me much joy in each of the places that I’ve been, and yet I also feel a sense of displacement. Where do I belong? Where can I call home?

Here again, the Lord has been kind to teach my slow-learning heart. He uses this longing for a physical home to remind me of how glorious it will be to dwell with the Lord in His house forever. I’m brought to rely on being where the Lord is and to delight in His people as my family.