Antique & Classic Cars 2.0

Why do most Christians believe that it’s all about themselves. Christians only please?

I sat in church back home and listened to their stories of how god helped them personally…

A friend wrote me a letter saying that he had gotten out of jail and was at a half-way house and had found god.
He had been detained in California for selling acid. I had returned to our home state with his belongings.
His father called me some time later saying he was worried that his son had become part of a cult and could I please go retrieve him. I agreed.
I arrived two days later and found him at a Victory Outreach where he had quickly become a director after exiting county jail.
I let his family know that he was doing fine but that I would stick around to monitor the situation.
I attended the church there out of curiosity.
I became nearly broke after a few weeks and was sleeping in my car down by the beach.
I decided to give prayer a try one day as I drove through town. I was cold at night in the car.
I felt a bit foolish but asked for a sleeping bag. Almost immediately I found myself turning the car into a residential area. I came upon a yard sale. The yard sale consisted completely of three items; two freshly cleaned sleeping bags and an antique sewing machine. I paid five dollars for both sleeping bags.
I was putting applications in everywhere during the day but it was pretty desperate there. I decided to pray again for a job and somewhere to stay. I found an ad for an apartment manager and walked in off the street. The general manager hired me on the spot. I was now the manager over two huge complexes and was provided a free two bedroom, all bills paid apartment, and, received a weeks pay in advance.

So at this point in the story it would seem that a miracle had taken place, hallelujah? No. Not yet.

I became active in the community there and would take the kids, with their parent’s permissions, to se some of the outreaches programs where they put on plays about avoiding gangs and drugs. But this was still not the miracle.

One night as I lay on the floor in my huge empty apartment on my sleeping bags, I dreamt I saw two eyes open in the dark in front of me. They studied me and looked deep inside of my soul.

One Saturday morning my phone rang. It was a tenant who’s crapper had failed. The maintenance men were gone for the weekend so it was up to me.
As I worked on the guys toilet I turned for a moment and was shocked that the guy was standing behind me watching. I was shocked because I never "felt" his presence. There was a cold emptiness about him. A void.
He walked away and I heard him talking to his step-daughter. Then they went into a bedroom and closed the door. I heard things that didn’t sound right. Then they exited the room. I was alarmed but I didn’t want to assume anything on so little evidence and I just wasn’t sure.
I finished the job and was leaving when I saw her sitting on the couch staring at me with the saddest look. Then I was sure. I decided to act and called the police.
They came and interviewed the girl and found that she had been being abused terribly for some time.

That night I thought about everything that had happened. As I lay there, I saw the eyes open again and then slowly close. I knew in my heart that the miracle had been served and that it was time to go home.

The miracle was never for me or about me or my friend. It was about one kid who was in terrible trouble.

So as I sat in church back home and listened to the testimony, I wondered, "Why do most Christians think that it’s all about themselves?"

Because when you are a "baby" Christian, meaning newly saved, it is all about you. As you grow in the word, you begin to understand that being a Christian means being a servant of God.