My Story – Scott Linscott

I grew up the youngest of three kids wit= h two sisters ten and twelve years older than me. My parents were average middle class Americans doing the best they could. My Dad is an alcoholic, on and o= ff the wagon, while my mom worked to hold things together every time dad slipp= ed. Like most every other kid in an alcoholic home, I lived life like we had bu= ilt our house on an active volcano fearing the next eruption and walking lightl= y thinking I might somehow trigger it.

I never doubted my parents’ love. Despite his illness, my dad had three priorities that were evident no matter where he was in his struggle; God, country and family. We were in church mo= st every Sunday morning and both of my parents held positions of leadership in= our church.

I remember going to a summer camp on a l= ake when I was nine years old. I remember canoeing, shooting arrows and having fun with our cabin counselor,= who we called “Zebra.” At the end of the week we listened to a spea= ker who asked if we wanted to go to heaven. He told us the story of Jesus that = most of us had heard dozens of times before and then invited us to come forward = to “ask Jesus” into our hearts. We all went up and repeated a pray= er that would get us into heaven. I know, it sounds bizarre.

During my teenage years I wondered if ev= ery “Christian” family was like mine. Did everyone just paste a smile on their face and get= all friendly when they walked into church and then live entirely different when they left? It bugged me. It was so fake.

When I was 17 I attended a youth retreat= with a bunch of younger kids in my youth group. When we arrived I quickly saw th= at all the kids there were in 6^th or 7^th grade. What a disappointment! I had gone hoping to meet some new girls.

But something significant happened that weekend. When the kids went to bed, a group of youth leaders invited me to = join them for coffee. Even though I didn’t drink coffee, I pretended to and sat and watched them interact. It was amazing. These people were openly sha= ring problems and being real with each other. They were talking about Jesus, uncertainty and how they knew He was helping them navigate life. They weren’t living a Sunday Jesus game. I immediately wanted what they ha= d!

That night I went back to my cabin stunn= ed by and I said a simple prayer, “Lord God, I want to be like them. I want= to know you. Jesus, I want you to live in me and I want to follow you no matter what. Forgive me for playing games. Change me.”

That was in 1980. From that point on I h= ave tried to live my life getting to know Jesus through the Bible and prayer. I’= ;ve learned that He is real and that He wants me to be real with Him. He hasn’t called me to some game where we play church for a couple hours= a week and hide all our faults. Instead He’s shown me that He loves me regardless of how often I blow it and He never bails out on me. I’ve moved from living in fear on an active volcano to knowing that God is there with me to help me through whatever eruptions occur.

No matter where you are in life right no= w, I am totally convinced that Jesus wants to have a relationship with you. It t= akes reaching out to Him and asking Him to forgive you, take control of your life and make you like Him. ItR= 17;s not about a magic prayer, a weekly ritual or a code of conduct; it’s about a living, active relationship with God.