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Forty years ago, at age eighteen, I went to a prayer meeting just to see an old friend from high school who had been involved in drugs.
It was my first-ever time at a prayer meeting. In fact, I didn’t even know what a prayer meeting was. But as I sat in the back of the room and listened to everyone singing songs of praise, God touched me in a dramatic and powerful way. Despite being raised in a Catholic family, attending a Catholic school, going to Mass a few times a week, and even being an altar boy, I simply did not know that Jesus was a real person.
It never dawned on me that I could approach Jesus as a person. My faith was more about being good, trying not to go to hell, and asking God to help me realize my dream of becoming a professional golfer. My day-to-day disposition was centered almost completely on myself. I found meaning in winning golf…
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