I can never remember not believing in God. There were certainly times growing up when God wasn’t much in the picture. Too many other things to think about. I had some thoughts about God and heaven after my Father died, but I was only four years old and probably just processing the talk of my mother and the other adults. My earliest memories of personal prayers were those when I got in trouble in grade school—twice for fighting and once for skipping school. I earned two paddlings with the principal’s feared board—the kind with the drilled holes in it. Each time, I did my praying during the torturous waits in the principal’s office—alone and scared, the big clock ticking down until the bell and the executioner’s arrival.

My childhood prayers were always, as I recall, associated with getting caught or praying not to get caught, that my mother wouldn’t find out, and that all things would safely return to normal. On some of these occasions I experienced a crude repentance complete with big promises: "God, if you get me out of this mess I’ll never do it (whatever it was) again." By the sixth grade I swore off my life of crime and promised to go straight. About that time my mother gave me a little red pocket edition of the Gospel of John. I read it many times.

In the years following I sought out plenty of trouble, but my belief in God was slowly beginning to mature and my prayers were gradually changing. I can remember praying for my mother a lot—especially at night when I didn’t hear her steps on the front porch after hearing the bus pull away. I would stay awake and worry until the next bus brought her safely home from work. I also prayed for my brother who was stationed in Japan with the Marines. But God was not visited unless I was in trouble or worried about my family.

I was almost twenty before I seriously wanted to begin knowing God and talk to him about who he is, about my life, the future, to ask him questions, and to seek understanding and wisdom. Now, 40 years later it seems like I’m just now beginning to realize how truly great God is. My goal is simply to seek him, knowing I shall find him. Moses said it: "Teach me your ways, so I may know you." As I pursue him I sense my belief growing stronger and deeper, and the content of my prayers gradually changing in response to a growing ardor for him. Yet, I still get in desperate situations where I cry out the familiar "Dear God, please help!" I wonder how many times he has heard that from me.

What is the point of all this self-centered talk. Only this: each of us is on a path of moving Godward. It starts at a different point for each of us, but follows a similar growth cycle. Just look back and see how your view of God has changed, how your prayers have evolved, how your character has developed. Look ahead to the growth yet to be made. Develop a keen awareness that God is working "hands-on" to process you into his image. Know that the more you pursue him the greater the Godward growth. And this suggestion: when you pause from the daily grind to pray, ask of yourself and of God a simple but focused question, "How am I doing?" The point isn’t to put yourself down, on the contrary, it is to reflect on your Godward progress—to keep you process-centered, which means, God-centered.

As you passionately seek God he will reveal ways to change, things to do, thoughts to have which will move you in his direction. Each of us is God’s personal project, and thankfully, he never tires of meeting our needs. But the entire enterprise has one towering goal in view: To Become Like Him. (It is for this ultimate goal that our ACD service ministry is named—helping Christians Develop into the Image of God; moving Godward together.)