ALL BECAUSE OF THE CROSS
Posted: Wed Jul 07, 2010 3:02 pmI grew up going to church. Every Sunday my family was there, and every Sunday my siblings and I sat quietly (most of the time) and listened to things we didn't understand. Yet in all those years, I don't ever remember hearing the message of Christ explained. I never heard the gospel. Christmas was about presents, and Easter was a mystery, with neither day resulting in any spiritual impact on my life.
As I grew, I detached myself from those roots of institutional, cultural Christianity and drifted far away from the moorings of religion, which felt incredibly empty and void of meaning or power of life. I graduated from high school and shifted churches, looking for answers and finding none.
Then, in 1972, an event happened that would change the path of my life. I was working for the gas company in West virginia on a survey crew that was charged with surveying for pipelines, well locations, and a variety of other civil engineering projects. On a cold January day, we were scheduled to run a survey for a "core hole" where engineers would drill for coal--coal that could be used in experimentation for coal gasification. The survey needed to begin at a US government benchmark to ensure that we were starting at an accurate altitude.
The benchmark in question was on the abutment of a railroad bridge over a dry creek bed near Fort Gay, West Virginia. Because I had the least amount of seniority on the crew, I had to climb up to the bridge while my colleagues enjoyed the warmth of the car. Once on the bridge, I easily found the benchmark disk implanted in the concrete of the abutment. That was when "It" happened.
I don't clearly remember how it happened, but news reports indicated that the winds were gusting up to 70 miles per hour that day. So I have assumed all these years that a gust of wind came roaring from the hollow behind me and knocked me from the bridge. I bounced off the abutment I had been carefully studying just moments before and landed on my neck in the dry creek bed 38 feet below. My co-workers hauled me from the ravine and took me to the hospital in Huntington where I spent the next week in traction--leading to 3 months of disability leave.
During my hospitalization, I was in a four-bed ward, and the man in the bed next to mine was older and in bad shape. One day, as his wife was visiting him, I could hear them whispering and crying. I assumed that they had just received bad news from the doctors and were hurting over it. How wrong I was! At the end of visiting hours, the wife started to leave but stopped by my bed. She looked down into my face, and I could see the tears in her eyes when she said, "My husband just old me what happened to you. We believe God spared your life because He wants to use you. We've been praying for you and will continue to pray for you."
I had never considered such a thing, but lying in a hospital bed in neck traction gave me a lot of time to think. In the months ahead, my searching would lead me to a different church--one that taught the bible; a different job--with a Christian co-worker who encouraged me in the things of Christ; and a different destination. My journey ended up in a Christian college, of all places. There, in a chapel service on October 12, 1973, I heard the gospel explained, and I embraced the Christ of the cross as my own. He had captured my heart with His grace, and I became a follower of Christ.
I have often looked back on the path of my life, and I think of the emptiness of religion. But that has been replaced by the fullness of Calvary. I have thought about that dear couple in the hospital who prayed for me and their kindness and concern. But that is dwarfed by the compassion of Calvary. I have thought about that co-worker who gently and patiently nudged me in the direction of the things of faith. But that is almost obliterated by the patience and lovingkindness of the holy God who, knowing the depth of my sins, sent His Son to die on a cross because He was "not willing that any should perish but that all [including me] should come to repentance" (see 2 Peter 3:9). Now, almost 40 years later, I deeply value all those road markers along the way. But it is Christ and His powerful love that have given my life the meaning and significance it never had. All because of the cross. All because, in His majesty, He came to be my Savior. Charles Wesley put it well when he wrote:
``````````````````````````Amazing love!```````````````````````
``````````````````````````How can it be````````````````````````
````````````````````````That Thou, my God,`````````````````````
````````````````````````shouldst die for me?````````````````````
BILL CROWDER
As I grew, I detached myself from those roots of institutional, cultural Christianity and drifted far away from the moorings of religion, which felt incredibly empty and void of meaning or power of life. I graduated from high school and shifted churches, looking for answers and finding none.
Then, in 1972, an event happened that would change the path of my life. I was working for the gas company in West virginia on a survey crew that was charged with surveying for pipelines, well locations, and a variety of other civil engineering projects. On a cold January day, we were scheduled to run a survey for a "core hole" where engineers would drill for coal--coal that could be used in experimentation for coal gasification. The survey needed to begin at a US government benchmark to ensure that we were starting at an accurate altitude.
The benchmark in question was on the abutment of a railroad bridge over a dry creek bed near Fort Gay, West Virginia. Because I had the least amount of seniority on the crew, I had to climb up to the bridge while my colleagues enjoyed the warmth of the car. Once on the bridge, I easily found the benchmark disk implanted in the concrete of the abutment. That was when "It" happened.
I don't clearly remember how it happened, but news reports indicated that the winds were gusting up to 70 miles per hour that day. So I have assumed all these years that a gust of wind came roaring from the hollow behind me and knocked me from the bridge. I bounced off the abutment I had been carefully studying just moments before and landed on my neck in the dry creek bed 38 feet below. My co-workers hauled me from the ravine and took me to the hospital in Huntington where I spent the next week in traction--leading to 3 months of disability leave.
During my hospitalization, I was in a four-bed ward, and the man in the bed next to mine was older and in bad shape. One day, as his wife was visiting him, I could hear them whispering and crying. I assumed that they had just received bad news from the doctors and were hurting over it. How wrong I was! At the end of visiting hours, the wife started to leave but stopped by my bed. She looked down into my face, and I could see the tears in her eyes when she said, "My husband just old me what happened to you. We believe God spared your life because He wants to use you. We've been praying for you and will continue to pray for you."
I had never considered such a thing, but lying in a hospital bed in neck traction gave me a lot of time to think. In the months ahead, my searching would lead me to a different church--one that taught the bible; a different job--with a Christian co-worker who encouraged me in the things of Christ; and a different destination. My journey ended up in a Christian college, of all places. There, in a chapel service on October 12, 1973, I heard the gospel explained, and I embraced the Christ of the cross as my own. He had captured my heart with His grace, and I became a follower of Christ.
I have often looked back on the path of my life, and I think of the emptiness of religion. But that has been replaced by the fullness of Calvary. I have thought about that dear couple in the hospital who prayed for me and their kindness and concern. But that is dwarfed by the compassion of Calvary. I have thought about that co-worker who gently and patiently nudged me in the direction of the things of faith. But that is almost obliterated by the patience and lovingkindness of the holy God who, knowing the depth of my sins, sent His Son to die on a cross because He was "not willing that any should perish but that all [including me] should come to repentance" (see 2 Peter 3:9). Now, almost 40 years later, I deeply value all those road markers along the way. But it is Christ and His powerful love that have given my life the meaning and significance it never had. All because of the cross. All because, in His majesty, He came to be my Savior. Charles Wesley put it well when he wrote:
``````````````````````````Amazing love!```````````````````````
``````````````````````````How can it be````````````````````````
````````````````````````That Thou, my God,`````````````````````
````````````````````````shouldst die for me?````````````````````
BILL CROWDER