It was December 1st twenty-two years ago when I called God out.

In the crisp of Minnesota Winter I boldly said “I am struggling to believe in you God, I need more, I need a sign, like a big ass sign, to know that you are REAL”

Leading up to that day, I had a calm Lutheran upbringing. We attended church on the big days, and I did all the confirmation things required of me to “pass”.  There was just something about my home town church that felt a little off to me, like I had to earn (financially) my way in. I did not have a relationship with Jesus. I had no idea the gravity of what He had done. I just went through the motions required to fit in.

Then I woke up December 1st to receive the awful news of my uncle passing away. He had been my employer, my dice shaking buddy, my friend. I was heart broken. I was pissed off at God. Death sucks. It makes you say crazy things. I demanded a sign from God.

Then He showed up.

The morning of my uncle’s burial, my Brother Jeff was late to the funeral. (pre-cell phone time). While he was driving to Fulda alone, He fell asleep at the wheel and drove off the road. I remember clearly the look on my mom’s face when someone relayed the news to her. After his car entered the ditch- a pole(maybe a mile marker?) crashed through his windshield, narrowly missing his head. He walked away from the accident unharmed.

I am certain someone said,  he was lucky to be alive.

One big ass sign.

I didn’t fall down on my knees and give my life to Christ right there at the family gathering, but it was the day I knowingly took my first step. Day one of a new mindset-
from-what does God do for me—
to what can I do for Him.

I began by giving thanks for my big brother.