THIS IS MY STORY, THIS IS MY SONG
“Old things passed away, all things become new.” – Paul
Early this morning in my secret garden, I was thinking of my grandson. What kind of legacy will I leave Kingston, this miraculous grandson, the only one to carry on the Fred Crowell name?
This profound question motivated me to go to my favorite book in the Bible. Romans authored by my Biblical Hero, the apostle Paul. My faith’s foundation is based on the truths and principles recorded in Chapters 6, 7, and 8.
Today’s focus was Paul’s words of wisdom dealing with the wars we all face between our old and the new natures. The miracle of Christ’s message is that He does not command us to refurbish our old selves. No, He gives us a new nature. The old nature can never become what God intends for us to be or become.
In the margins of my Bible, I wrote messages to Kingston. Many years from today, my hope is Kingston will find my notations meaningful. Having received not one legacy item from my father, leaving many symbols of my life to those I cherish is very important to me. My NBC office and home are filled with legacy gifts and purchases that mean so much to me, and I hope to others someday.
Though it was 50 years ago, I clearly remember the moment I knew Jesus Christ loved me and Jesus was mine. I vividly remember reading for the first time, “But God shows his love for (Fred Crowell) in that while I am a sinner, Christ Jesus died for me.” A new journey began.
That moment is when I knew Jesus was mine; the words of the song written by Fanny Crosby, a blind hymn writer, became alive in me.
I have sung silently or very poorly out loud nearly every day of my life for 50 years: “This is my story, this is my song, blessed assurance Jesus is mine, praising my Savior all the day long.”
It seems to be the best legacy I can leave Kingston, is not a material inheritance, though it would be nice; it is the knowledge that his grandfather lived his faith loving God, loving people, and loving life.
Jay, at age four, yelled at me as I ran time after time, trying to get his kite up high, “go for it, Dad!” I feel Kingston cheering for me, “Go for it, papa!”
My hope for each person reading Words of Hope is that there is someone yelling in your mind’s ear, Go for it! Make His story your story.
