WHAT HAPPENED WHEN FRIENDS TOOK A CHANCE ON ME?

I grew up knowing that church mattered. God mattered. But somewhere along the way, those truths had to become more than just family values or familiar routines. They had to

become mine.

That shift didn’t happen overnight. In fact, it took nearly three years—most of them spent in Room 206 of Cather Hall during college.

Our dorm floor was something of a spiritual battleground in those days. A lot of guys were exploring faith, some for the first time. Others were making renewed commitments to Jesus. I was watching it all unfold—interested, but skeptical.

It didn’t help that some of the loudest Christian voices I saw on campus were full of condemnation and zero compassion. The kind of “Bible thumpers” who stood outside the student union yelling at crowds. I wanted nothing to do with that.

One evangelist even wandered through the dorms at times, trying to spark conversations. He cornered me once, and I remember thinking, How could good deeds not count for something in God’s equation?

But what finally broke through wasn’t a stranger’s argument. It was the steady, faithful presence of two friends—my roommate and the guy next door. Paul and Phil didn’t come at me with pressure. They came with patience. They were willing to take a chance on me. They stuck with me, asked questions, answered mine, and let me wrestle.

My roommate had a couple of posters that did more than decorate the walls. One showed David hoisting Goliath’s head with the words, “Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should defy the armies of the living God?” The other displayed all the names and titles of Jesus from across Scripture. Those words stuck with me more than I realized and would come to mind at unusual times.

Then one weekend in February, after a night of partying left me feeling particularly hollow, Phil handed me an NIV Bible and said, “Start with John.”

I did. And what I found surprised me: Jesus wasn’t just the figure from my childhood church’s altar—He was here. He really lived and walked with His disciples. He spoke with authority. He was, and is, Creator and Lord. “The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us…” (John 1:14).

Over the next few weeks, reading and re-reading John, asking Paul and Phil my questions, and digging deeper into Scripture, something changed. I crossed the line from seeking to believing. Like Thomas, I found myself saying, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28).

There wasn’t a dramatic flash of light—but there was peace. Joy. Purpose in the midst of college stress and questions about the future. Life didn’t magically get easier, but I knew I wasn’t walking it alone anymore.

Looking back, I’m so thankful Paul and Phil took the risk. They didn’t give up. They listened to God’s prompting. And because they did, I get to share Jesus with others today—through this newsletter, through years of ministry in gift planning, and even through a woodworking hobby that has opened doors for conversations and prayer.

If I could return to Room 206, I’d tell the person sitting at that desk: “The most important decision of my life was made right here…read the Gospel of John.”

Who does God have in your life that needs you to take a similar risk like Paul and Phil?