I am not superstitious, but I am somewhat sentimental.
Today is my son’s 18th birthday, Giovanni my second born son, is now a grown man. In other words, I can no longer take him down in a wrestling match on our living room carpet. This is also his Senior Year in High School; it is his last Kent City Eagle’s football season….so sad. And for this year’s season, he asked for the number 44!
That made my sentimental day! It is a special number to me. Let me tell you why this number means so much:
(1) My dad wore number 44 as a running back at the University of Dayton. He was a beast! My son gets his talent from my dad, most of it skipped me.
(2) Luke 24:44 is one of my favorite verses of scripture: “He said to them, ‘This is what I told you while I was still with you: Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms.’” Jesus is talking to two men right after he rose from the dead and he explains to them how his death and resurrection was predicted for thousands of years in the Old Testament. And not only that, the point of the whole Old Testament is Christ. Everything is about him! And it still is! I love that!
(3) It was on Highway 44 in Ohio where I came to know Jesus personally. I will never forget that day: I was a 23-year-old salesman working for Honeywell Protection Services, and I just closed on a big sale. It was a tough earned sale because I was negotiating with the Mentor Library for a good four months and my bid was definitely not the lowest. But I won the sale because I formed a great relationship with the building manager at the library. After the sale, I came back to my office and my boss said, “Chris, that was a great sale. But now that you have his signature I want you to go back and tell him he needs to add an additional $10,000 dollar unit for future expansion in case they want to build.” I was furious and said, “I can’t do that because we worked every angle to bring the price to the absolute lowest.” My boss smiled a wry smile and said, “I don’t care, go back and tell him he needs to do it! Make us some more money!”
Well, I went back to talk to the building manager and told him what my boss said. He was visibly angry. He took the original contract he signed and threw it back into my face, saying, “Get out of my office! You lied to me! You are a liar.”
I picked up the contract, headed to my car and started back home on the back roads of Highway 44 in Mentor, Ohio. On the way, all I could think of was that man calling me a liar. I asked myself, “Chris, are you willing to make a sale while losing your integrity? What do you want in life, a good name or lots of money?” At the time this happened my life seemed to be stuck in a rut. I was at a job I hated and I couldn’t wait for the weekend so I could go to the bars in the Flats in downtown Cleveland to drink my blues away. But the question wouldn’t relent, “Chris, what do you want?”
I pulled my car over and started talking to myself. “I want real answers, that is what I want! I want to know if my life has any purpose! I want the truth.” I was arguing with myself in the car while it was pulled over. People driving by must have thought I was a lunatic. There I was hitting the steering wheel, shaking my fist, pounding the dashboard. “Chris, what do you want out of life???”
Somewhere in the middle of my personal debate, the real question came to the surface, “Chris, do you believe Jesus really lives?”
I would usually answer that question by saying, “Of course, everyone knows he does, that is what Grandma says.” But this time it was different, the question was deeper, “Chris, is Jesus your God or just a religious name you give the sign of the cross to so you look religious? Do you really believe he is alive this moment, and he can see everything?” Oh, that question is dangerous. If I was to answer that question, I knew there were more that were to follow: “Is Jesus O.K. with your sin? Is Jesus going to approve of your lifestyle? Does Jesus have more for you than this?”
I took a deep breath, and I answered myself, “Yes, I believe Jesus lives.”
“Ok, now what about your sin?”
Another breath, “I need to stop. I need forgiveness. I need his help to change.”
“So tell him.”
Here is what I said, “Dear Jesus, I know you exist. I know it. Maybe it is all I know. But I sin. I need to be forgiven but I am scared I will go back to my sin. Help me change, forgive me….” and then I said this, “take my life and do with it whatever you want.”
I don’t know how to explain it, but I felt like God washed me clean. In that car, on Highway 44, God forgave me and then gave me his Spirit. I know it! And I haven’t been the same since. I love how Ephesians 1:13-14 describes what happened to me that day on that road, “You also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.”
The number 44 is special to me and will always be, not because it is magic but because it helps me remember: A son I love, a dad I honor, and a Savior I cherish!
