Lord, please save my children from a dramatic testimony.

Stephen Altrogge writes:

Everyone loves to hear an old-fashioned, rip-roaring, “glory!” conversion testimony.

You know the kind I’m talking about. The dude who was a member of the Crips, a meth dealer, and a mob hit man before he found Jesus. Or the girl who grew up in a Christian home, then got involved in drugs, then got pregnant, then joined a biker gang, then got saved. Or the hardcore atheist who hit rock-bottom, had some sort of existential crisis, and then found Jesus in the most unlikely of places.

Every good testimony involves finding Jesus in the most unlikely of places, like a homeless shelter, or a working banana plantation, or a bowling alley. Every good testimony also involves a grandmother who prayed every day or a mother who never gave up hope. A really good testimony will include running from the cops and/or beating up a Christian who shared the gospel.

But many of us don’t have a particularly gripping testimony. I grew up in a Christian home with a wonderful mom and dad. My dad read the Bible to us every morning before breakfast. I was the kid who won the Bible trivia contests in Sunday School. I never did drugs. I didn’t have premarital sex. I didn’t run around with the bad crowd. I never served time in a juvenile detention center. I didn’t get into fights (although one time I tried to pick a fight with a really small kid who was annoying me, but that’s a different story).

I wasn’t an angry kid who listened to Rage Against the Machine and drew the anarchy symbol on his Chuck Taylors. I listened to dcTalk and Michael W. Smith (“Secret Ambition” was one of the greatest Christian songs of all time). My childhood and teenage years were relatively drama free.

As I’ve gotten older and interacted with more people, I’ve come to realize what a blessing it is to not have an interesting testimony. See, here’s the thing: Testimonies don’t happen in a vacuum…

Read the rest here.