Throughout my teens I joked about ‘not making it to 35’. I have consistently managed to risk life and limb in a variety of thrill seeking exploits designed to tickle my adrenal gland. Skateboarding, BMXing, climbing just about anything, bungy jumping, skydiving... you name it, I’d try it.
The claim was half hearted. But only half hearted. Part of me quite realised the risks I was taking and the fatalistic side of me probably expected to ‘come a cropper’ as my Mum would say. I really did do some stupidly dangerous things and all along joked that there was ‘no way’ I’d make to my 35th birthday alive... so ‘I may as well enjoy myself while I can’.Truth is I was right.
At 34 years and 8 months old I died.
Dead as a doornail.
Dead as a Dodo.
Dead to the world.
Dead to my sins.
Alive in Christ.
“Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Romans 6:11 (KJV)
“But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved”
Ephesians 2:4 - 5
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