[For new subscribers to the Grif.Net or for those =
reading the daily blog on www.grif.net or on Facebook – on =
Monday-Friday we send out a slightly warped blend of humor. On the =
weekend we send out material that is more serious of a moral, ethical, =
religious or political nature. This week I had TWO BIRTHDAYS, and every =
year or two I try to share this story on the Grif.Net that includes a =
little bit of my personal life (and my heart) with all the faithful =
readers, even if you’ve heard it before! Will return to humor =
Monday, Lord willing.]
PART =
ONE:
March 14, 1948 was a =
momentous day for Bud and Helen Griffin of Minneapolis. Bud had =
come home from WWII in the Philippines and now they were expecting a =
baby. A lanky little baby boy, Robert Edward Griffin, Jr., was =
born at the Swedish Hospital that morning, at just over 7 pounds. =
While the family was dirt poor, they had each other, lots of kin folk, =
and more love than any family deserves.
I did =
not walk until 24 months. I did not talk until 26 months. They =
actually took me to a specialist (our Jewish doctor) to find out if I =
was retarded. Don’t get ahead of me. He said "No" =
and indicated that once I started to talk, they would never be able to =
shut me up. Prophetic!
I =
almost died that 2nd summer. TB was rampant and I could not breathe. So =
it was recommended to put me in a tuberculosis sanatorium (note the =
spelling) and hope I would survive. Once there, I was tested and =
found to "only" have congestive bronchial asthma and sent =
home.
Polio hit our block in 1956. It killed a couple of =
my classmates and crippled Jerry a few doors up the alley from us. =
The tragedy and reality of death brought a new sincerity to our prayers =
and search for God. From there it was growing up during the Korean War, =
H-bomb drills in school (like hiding under a desk would help a nuclear =
attack) and drifting from religion to religion – tried Jewish like most =
neighbors, then Catholic like the other neighbors, then =
Baptist.
PART TWO
March 17, 1957, was the second most momentous day. =
My mother had been sending my sister and me a few blocks away to a =
Baptist church in the inner city of Minneapolis. There God began =
to do a work in my heart. Now, I wasn’t a BAD kid – hey, I was =
only in 4th grade for goodness sake! But I knew I was a sinner =
worthy of God’s judgment. And with the very real threat that my =
world could end any day through sickness or war, I was not =
ready!
Guess I should thank God for ordaining my salvation =
from before the foundation of the world, because I’m living fulfillment =
of the verse in Acts 13:48 " . . as many as were ordained to =
eternal life, believed." Wow. All of a sudden my feeble =
faith (that was the regenerative work of the Holy Spirit) on that March =
17th cried out in repentance to God to save me from hell and wash away =
my sin. It was ALL God’s grace. Kinda like a baby celebrating his =
birthday – the baby had not really ANYTHING to do with it! Conceived and =
delivered by miracle – all the baby does is get squeegeed out and start =
crying!
But that day changed the course of the rest of my =
life. Oh, life went on with school, college, grad work, marriage, =
ordination and three wonderful kids of my own, 10 grandkids, pastoring, =
and serving as a college dean and professor. But I had been truly =
"born again" – not out of some emotional hype of high-pressure =
salesmanship or from a knee-jerk reaction to a movie, but an inner =
moving of God that has never left me and continues to give fulfillment =
and purpose to my life.
So, =
born physically March 14th, born again March 17th a decade =
later. And now, facing heaven. All of us "boomers" =
are facing our own mortality. When in 2003 the doctors said =
"You have six months to live. Maybe 1 or 2 painful years at the =
most" – it hung heavily around my neck. Nobody is sure of ANY =
day, but we all plan like there will be endless =
tomorrows.
But you know, I didn’t have a thing to do with my =
day of birth. I didn’t have a thing to do with being the recipient =
of God’s grace on my second "birthday". And I won’t have =
a thing to do with the day that HE has appointed for me to go to heaven =
– whether at 5 or 105. Someone congratulated me on how I’d =
"made it" to 70. What did "I" do? =
Hello? God gives life, not me!
I =
don’t believe doctors and I sure don’t trust them (don’t tell my wife, =
the doctor). I believe God has a plan. I wasn’t born by =
accident and wasn’t born again by accident either. GOD is the =
blessed controller of all things. And until that plan is complete, and =
not a minute sooner, I plan to live every day to the =
fullest!
So March 17th this weekend is St. Bob’s Day. I am =
rejoicing that God has given me another year to live, celebrated with =
cake and candles (and fire extinguisher, just in case) and now the =
anniversary of my "becoming a saint". So I share the day with =
Patrick, but I’m not wearin’ the green. Since my second birth, =
I’ve been wearing robes of righteousness! And waiting to see my =
Lord at His divinely appointed time.
Thanks =
for listening. And trust YOU can celebrate TWO birthdays in 2018 as =
well. If you have questions, I consider myself a cyber-friend and happy =
to chat with you any time.
~~
Dr Bob Griffin =
[email protected] www.grif.net =
"Jesus Knows Me, This I =
Love!"