RogueTrippen: Say Yes, Part Three

The final episode in my sermon from Full Gospel Church: In my walk over the past four years, the simplicity of that day of redemption has been followed by the complexity of sanctification. I have found comfort in reading the words of Jesus, because His parables are designed to make complex topics simple so that we might understand. “To serve, and not to be served,” from Matthew 20:28, is a great lighthouse to turn to.

The Lord will meet you on either field—simple or complex. Take, for instance, the man who died on the cross next to Jesus. He simply said, “Remember me.” That man wasn’t baptized. He didn’t take communion. He didn’t study the Bible. He could not get down off that cross and do great works. Quite literally, he was nailed to that cross and dying. Yet he acknowledged Jesus as the Son of God, and Jesus said to him, “You will be with me today in paradise.”

Or consider when the tax collector merely prayed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” The simplest of prayers—yet Jesus tells us that this man went home justified, as opposed to the Pharisee who went to great lengths to be religious and pious, following the Law and praying with great pomp and circumstance. The latter does not please the Lord; the former does. The latter is complex; the former is simple: acknowledge our own sinfulness and that Jesus is the only way.

Before I close, I told you I would share how the day I was saved came to be. The short answer is that the will of God unfolded exactly as He planned from the beginning of time. That’s not something we can fully understand, but I believe the door to my salvation began to open a few months before July 31, 2022. I recount this in the book I’m writing, and I’d like to share it: Sometime in the spring or early summer of 2022, I was staying with my grandpa, Marvin Rodenbeck, as he went through a rough spell. I didn’t keep exact dates—it was the furthest thing from my mind. He was mostly confined to his home. He could get out of his chair to use the restroom, and that was about it.

He was in constant pain from years of back trouble. He’d had prostate cancer. He struggled to be comfortable. He would often call me late at night, when I was asleep, to get him some water or milk. He had been living like this for several years.

In my eulogy to this great man, we all wondered why Marvin stuck around after his wife of 58 years passed away—on Easter Sunday, of all days. Quietly, we thought he might follow soon after. But he didn’t.

I still remember being at my grandma’s funeral when they closed the casket. This mountain of a man—someone I looked up to, loved, and relied on—bowed his head. The look of pain, loss, and sadness nearly caused me to break down. In fact, I did a few minutes later. I couldn’t hold back the tears.

Those tears weren’t for my grandma, who was gone—they were for my grandpa, who now had to live without her.

I often wondered what he stayed strong for. Surely this was not an ideal existence. Why did he never lose hope?

I can give you one reason. It may not be the only one, but I believe the Holy Spirit kept him strong because his final days had a lasting impact on me.

During that time, I was up late and back to work early. I often didn’t even have time to change clothes or go home. Remember, I was an alcoholic. I had gotten so bad by this point—after financial and personal struggles—that I was drinking almost every night when left unchecked.

Being with my grandpa forced me to curtail my drinking. It was quite an accomplishment. I hadn’t been that sober for that long since before I turned 21—over 20 years earlier. I was proud of myself. I thought, this is it. I’m finally going to break this addiction.

Eight days of no drinking.

The song I kept singing in my head was “Little Rock” by Colin Raye: “I ain’t had a drink in 19 days. My eyes are clear and bright without that haze.”

They say you establish habits after 14 days. That was my target. If I could make it 19 days like the song, I’d be cured. I made it to 17—but I didn’t make it all the way. The demons returned.

Somewhere in those next couple of months is when I finally admitted defeat. I saw a man I knew who was dying of liver failure and liver cancer— a lifelong alcoholic. Why he began stopping by the store more often in that condition is known only to God. But I believe the Lord placed him there for a reason.

I watched his transition— from a strong, charismatic man in his early 60s to someone whose hair turned gray, then fell out. He shriveled up, and before long, he looked like walking death.

And then he died. I accepted that this would be my fate, too. I admitted to myself that I couldn’t stop drinking. I figured I might live to 50, and then I would die. Simple as that.

At some point, I asked God, just let me accomplish a few more good things before I turn 50—because that’s all the time I have left.

That was my moment of surrender.

You’ve seen the memes where a statement is made, and then it says, “So-and-so has entered the chat.” Well, at that moment, the Holy Spirit entered the chat. On July 31, 2022, He took action.

I don’t mean to sound irreverent, but I also believe the Lord has a sense of humor. There’s another phrase we used in the military: hold my beer.

When the Holy Spirit acts, things happen. Things change. All things become possible. “Hold my beer” might be the best modern analogy, because on that date, my failure, my defeat, and my certain death were all turned around.

Seventeen days of sobriety on my own. With the Holy Spirit, I’m now at 1,340 days—and there’s no turning back.

And here’s the kicker: I didn’t try. I had already given up. People tell me they’re proud of me for quitting the bottle, but I can take zero credit. I had surrendered completely.

Giving up—ironically— is the answer. That is surrender. That’s God for you. With Him, all things are possible.

Marvin passed away on August 20, 2022—almost exactly three weeks after I was saved. I can’t help but think one reason he held on and endured all those years was to see his firstborn grandson receive salvation.

Amen.

And I’ll leave you with these four points:

Surrender. This is where it all begins. This is how you are adopted by Christ. Surrender your addictions, your weaknesses, your idols— surrender it all. Walk in the grace of Christ, and He will heal you. Just say yes.

Read the Word. Be prepared for the 84 mph fastballs. Even if you don’t fully understand what you are reading, the Lord honors the time you devote to His Word and will bless you with wisdom.

Tithe. Bring it—literally. In Malachi 3:10, the Lord says, “Bring all the tithes into the storehouse... and see if I will not open the windows of heaven and pour out a blessing you cannot contain.” Tithing demonstrates trust in God and obedience to His command. It’s not just your money—your time and talents belong to Him as well. You’ll find you cannot outgive Him.

Embrace the will of God. “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” Ask for your daily bread. Ask for deliverance from temptation and evil. Forgive. Let it go.

Keep on trippen’. Amen.