I usually get the “no way you’re only (whatever age I currently am)”. Maybe its the mass amount of facial hair that grows within a day’s time. Whatever the case, I’ve always felt like time is flying by and I’m getting old fast. It feels like only yesterday that I was 19. Which I would say was about the time of my conversion. Most of the time before that seems a blur–thankfully so. Some of the most recent years are painfully vivid. I replay some of those crucial decisions I made back in my head, inserting things I could have said or done, and removing things I shouldn’t have said or done. I would like to believe I’ve matured a lot since then, and I believe I have. At the core of being or becoming a man is that central idea of maturing. I say this, not to boast in the wisdom and experience I’ve gained over the years, but to highlight the grace of God in my life. I could have easily been just another hoodlum wandering the streets endlessly in pursuit of ungodly desires, but God was gracious. So, I write this not under the influence of illicit drugs, or after a night of wild partying, but I write this in a point of my life where I realize how desperately I need of God, today, tomorrow, and for the remainder of my days on earth.