A Day that Changed my Life Forever

Wednesday, April 22, 2026

This week, I’d like to share a preview of my book, Three Years: Making a Difference in the Time You Have Left.

I hope you enjoy Chapter 1, “The Ladder of Virtues.”

Chapter 1: The Ladder of Virtues

A Day that Changed my Life Forever

At first, I had no idea that something was wrong. When I walked in the

front door, having driven the two-and-a-half hours home from seminary

in the nation’s capital, I was excited. We had purchased tickets to take our

four-year-old son to see Elmo Live. I couldn’t wait to see his face light up at

the sight of Elmo, Big Bird, and Cookie Monster. I couldn’t wait to hear his

precious giggle.

When I entered the door to our home, the atmosphere was not one of

anticipation for the night ahead. My wife, pregnant with our second child,

stood there, looking at me, evidence of recent tears on her cheeks. My first

thought was that something was wrong with the baby. She asked me to sit

down and then shared with me the news that would change my life forever.

“Drew, your dad had a heart attack.” She barely got the words out and

then, in a crackling whisper, tears beginning to flow, she added, “He didn’t

make it.”

I’m not sure what I remember at that point. I felt numb, dumbfounded,

confused, uncertain of what I had just heard. I think I responded, “What . . .

what do you mean . . . he didn’t make it?” Then the floodgates opened.

My father was my best friend; in fact, just the night before I had visited

with him and, together, we watched one of the old sci-fi horror movies we

both loved. We had been watching those movies together since I was a little

kid, staying up on Saturday nights, allowing Count Gore de Vol to come

into our living room and introduce the classics like Them, The Invisible

Man, Creature from the Black Lagoon, Earth vs. The Flying Saucers, and my

favorite, Valley of Gwangi. My dad would sit with me and tell me stories about

the actors, introducing me to James Whitmore, James Arness, Julie Adams,

Lon Chaney Jr., Claude Rains, Boris Karloff, Vincent Price, John Agar, and

Allison Hayes.

While sharing these films and their history with me, my dad built

model rockets. At one point we had almost one hundred completed rockets,

including the U.S.S. Enterprise, the Klingon’s Bird of Prey, and one ocket with

a camera attached. I remember watching the film afterward and seeing our

neighborhood from above. He shot these rockets off at Cub Scout events and

neighborhood parties with my friends.

My dad taught me not only to love these old movies, which I now collect

and share with my children, but to love reading. He started me off with

The Hardy Boys, having read every book himself, and then on to our favorite

character in literature, Sherlock Holmes. The two things in life he hated

were prejudice and litter, and he passed those feelings down to my brother

and me as well. He introduced me to Peter, Paul, and Mary, Neil Diamond,

and The Kingston Trio. I learned from him a love for the outdoors, nature,

camping, the mountains of Shenandoah, and Harpers Ferry. It was in Harpers

Ferry, at Harper Cemetery, overlooking the convergence of the Potomac and

Shenandoah Rivers, where my brother and I would spread our dad’s ashes.

In my adult years, my dad and I went to the movies together a couple

times a month, and before and after we talked about all kinds of things,

including faith. My father had never stopped showing me love, even during

my teenage years when I hurt him with my words and actions; he always loved

me, encouraged me, and supported me. I could not imagine life without him.

Yet, the words my wife had shared with me were beginning to sink in. That is exactly what I was going to have to do. I was going to have to not only

imagine but live life without my dad.

Twenty-Two Years Later

Today, as I write these words, I am fifty-four years old, and I am coming out

the other side of a worldwide pandemic that has kept me at home and away

from human interaction for more than a year. During that year I had a lot of

time to think, to reflect, to analyze, to pray, to wonder, and to question. The

Coronavirus outbreak stirred me to contemplate the brevity of life, particularly

my own.

It was during this season, twenty-two years after that awful night when

I heard that my dad did not make it, that I began to realize I was approaching

the stage of life my dad was in when he died. This led me to the question,

“What if I had only three years left?”

If I only had three years left, how would I want to spend them? What

would I want to do? How would I live differently if I knew this to be true?

How could I make a difference in three years? Was such a thing even possible?

I immediately thought of Jesus. He walked, taught, and served for a

period of three years. Historical and astronomical evidence point to Jesus’s

birth being around AD 3, with John the Baptist being born about six months

earlier (Luke 1:24-37). From scripture, we know that John the Baptist’s

ministry started in the fifteenth year of Tiberius Caesar (Luke 3:1-3), which

would have been between AD 28 and 29. We know that Jesus’s ministry

started sometime after John the Baptist’s. The Gospel of Luke tells us that

Jesus began His ministry around the age of thirty (Luke 3:21-23). The Gospel

of John records three Passover events during Jesus’s ministry (John 2:13;

6:4; 11:55). Furthermore, we know that Pontius Pilate was the procurator

of Judea from AD 26-36,and that Paul was converted after the crucifixion

and before AD 34.

During three short years, Jesus walked this earth and changed the

course of human history. Jesus started His ministry with twelve disciples. After

His resurrection, Jesus appeared to five hundred believers (1 Cor. 15:6). Soon,

Peter won three thousand to Christ during the festival of Pentecost (Acts 4:4).

Throughout the book of Acts, one hears how the church grew exponentially

(Acts 16:5). Today, there are an estimated 2.4 billion Christians in the world,

and we are told that one day, saints from every nation, “a great multitude no

one can count,” will worship before God’s throne (Rev. 5:9; 7:1-17).

I remember reading a book, What If Jesus Had Never Been Born, by D.

James Kennedy and Jerry Newcombe. In their book, they give evidence of

Jesus’s influence on and literal reshaping of civilization including education,

charity, government, business, art, literature, medicine, and the value of

human life. Most importantly, for more than two millennia, countless lives,

including my own, have been changed and transformed through faith in Jesus

Christ. Theologian William Barclay writes, “The unanswerable argument for

Christianity is the Christian life. No one can disregard a faith which is about

to make bad people good.”

Questions began to sprint through my mind. How did Jesus change

the world and countless lives with only three years of teaching and ministry?

What behaviors and attributes did Jesus display throughout His ministry,

and why were these effective? Could I learn these behaviors and develop

these attributes that Jesus carried throughout His ministry? If I made an

intentional effort to take on the character of Jesus over the next three years,

what difference might I make and how might I affect generations after me?

Mirroring our Lives after His

Finding my starting point in 2 Peter, I began to study the attributes of Jesus

that Peter tells us to add to our faith, to our everyday thoughts and actions.

The book of 2 Peter is written for those who pose a threat to the church.

2 Peter rebukes those who twist scripture to their own purpose (1:20; 3:16);those who selfishly seek things for themselves and do this by exploiting others

(2:3; 2:14-15); those who fall prey to their lusts and adultery (2:10; 2:14;

2:18-19); those who mislead others (2:14; 2:18); those who act as if freedom

in Christ means permission to follow their every physical desire (2:19); and

those who deny the second coming of Christ (3:3-4).

The author of 2 Peter also tells us that Christ, through His divine

power, “has given us everything we need for a godly life” (1:3). Furthermore,

through what Christ has given us, we “may participate in the divine nature”

(1:4). It is Jesus’s divine nature that influences and changes the hearts and

lives of the twelve disciples, and through those twelve produces billions

of followers. Therefore, if we are given the opportunity to “participate in

the divine nature,” if we are given “everything we need,” we can share in

Jesus’s work and success. If this is true, what is holding us back?

In his book, Experiencing God, Henry Blackaby explains that God

invites you and me to join God in His work. Blackaby writes, “God wants

us to align our lives with Him so He will accomplish His divine purposes in

and through us.” We are given the unbelievable privilege and opportunity to

join God in His work. Jesus told his disciples, “Very truly I tell you, whoever

believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even

greater things than these, because I am going to the Father” (John 14:12). Paul writes, “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good

works, which God prepared in advance for us to do;” “we are co-workers in

God’s service” (Eph. 2:10; 1 Cor. 3:9).

Joining God in his work requires a decision, a commitment. We must

be intentional in growing our faith, in becoming more like Christ, and in

stepping out in faith to serve alongside God in ministry and mission. Paul

instructs, “. . . continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for

it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill His good purpose”

(Phil. 2:12b-13).

Work out versus Work On

It is important to note here that Paul says, “work out your salvation” and not

“work on.” It is a subtle difference that I wish I had understood years ago,

long before my dad’s death.

Except for special days like Christmas and Easter, I grew up not

going to church. If it were not for my uncle, a Catholic priest, I would not

have given much thought to God when I was young. It was his influence

and mentoring that opened my thoughts to there being a God, a Creator.

Through my uncle’s influence, I studied and prepared for my first communion,

participated in Mass as an altar boy, experienced the Stations of the

Cross, prayed the Rosary, and attended a Catholic summer camp where I

met peers who believed.

As I entered my high school years, I became lost. My life was turned

upside-down at the age of sixteen when the girl I dated became pregnant. The

next several years were a blur as I tried to raise a child while finishing high

school. My parents fought hard to navigate the chaos and turmoil of those

years as they tried to support me and keep my head above water. I wrestled

with guilt for years, knowing I had hurt them deeply. I felt I did not deserve

their help and certainly did not deserve God’s love after all I had done.

The years that followed saw a roller coaster of ups and downs. My

daughter’s mother and I broke up. My wife of thirty-four years entered and

changed my life. I studied English and history in college. My dad could not

have been prouder the day I graduated and stepped into the role of teaching

high school literature and composition.

Yet, even with the many blessings throughout these years, I carried

guilt, terrible guilt, for the things I had done, the people I had hurt, the God

I knew deep down was there, but I had ignored. Francis Thompson reminded

me that “The Hound of Heaven” had been pursuing me for a long time, those

“strong feet” following after me. As I have reflected back on those years, I

know this is true.

I did everything I could to try and make up for the things I had done,

the people I had hurt. I went back to the Catholic Church while in college

and was confirmed. After my wife and I were married, I attended a local

United Methodist Church with her each week. Together, we taught Sunday

school, and I got involved in Disciple Bible Study. While continuing my

studies in graduate school and working toward my teacher certification,

I met a young man who introduced me to having a personal relationship

with Christ, something I had not heard about growing up in the Catholic

Church. One night, at the dinner table with David and his wife, I accepted

Christ and asked Him into my heart, to lead my life. Even after all of this,

however, the guilt continued. No matter what I did, how hard I worked or

excelled, I could not make up for what I had done, the pain I had caused,

or the sins I had committed.

Therefore, I did what any sensible person would do: I entered ministry.

I thought to myself, “I’ll show God I’m serious . . . that I truly love Him and

am truly sorry for my mistakes . . . I will go into ministry.” The next thing I

knew, my wife and I were on a new journey that included selling our home,

moving into a parsonage, serving as an associate pastor at the local United

Methodist Church, and attending seminary classes in Washington, DC. It

was a couple years after entering seminary that I came home to hear my wife’s

words, “He didn’t make it.”

There came a day when I would understand how important it was that

Paul says, “work out your salvation” and not “work on.” I learned that I did not

need to work on my salvation, for the life, death, and resurrection of Christ

took care of that. 1 Peter 2:24 tells us, “‘He himself bore our sins’ in his body

on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; ‘by his

wounds you have been healed.’” We cannot work on or earn our salvation,

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from

yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:8). Until that day, I carried my guilt,

my burdens, trying every day to make amends.

“I Have Loved You,” says the Lord!

It was after my dad died, after a year of depression and crying out to God for

help, that I discovered the difference between Paul’s words, “work out your

salvation,” and what I was doing, “working on my salvation.” I was still in many

ways lost, grieving my dad, my best friend. There was nothing I could possibly

do to make things better. There was only one place to cry out when my dad died,

one person to cry out to, and I had cried out to Him. In fact, I had screamed.

A couple years after my dad’s death, I cried out to God once more. I

could not keep going. The burden was too heavy, the guilt too overwhelming.

It was, on top of my grief, destroying my relationships, my thoughts, and

my connection with God. I needed a night like John Wesley experienced

at Aldersgate when his “heart was strangely warmed.” One night as I was

driving home from seminary, I began to pray using a method I had recently

learned in a class on prayer. I prayed without speaking, simply focusing all my

thoughts, all my desires and energy, on Christ. After ten or fifteen minutes,

all my sins and all the moments I had turned away from God surfaced. It was

at this pivotal moment that I recognized my need for a Savior. I had accepted

Christ in my heart, but it wasn’t until that moment that I truly understood

God’s grace. I understood what it meant. I placed all my unworthiness at the

cross, giving it over to Christ. I was suddenly overwhelmed with a scripture

reference, Malachi 1:2.

The second time, the impression was so strong I pulled over and looked

up the passage. It read, “I have loved you, says the Lord.”

At that very moment, I knew I had been forgiven and Christ had

entered my heart. There was no doubt. In that moment I truly, in John

Wesley’s words, “felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and

an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and

saved me from the law of sin and death.” This was my moment of assurance

and I never picked up the sins I laid at the cross that night again. The guilt I

had carried for years was gone.

Francis Thompson’s “Hound of Heaven” had finally caught up with me.

A Good Place to Begin

Today, my brother and I often wonder if we will, like our father, leave this

world at the age of fifty-seven. If this does happen and I only have three years

left, I want those years to be effective and productive. I want those years to

make a difference. I believe that to make a difference in the lives of those

around me, my life must be modeled after the One who changed the world

in three short years. My life must be modeled after the One who changed my

life. Searching the scriptures, I feel the list of Christ’s behaviors and attributes

to “add to our faith,” listed in 2 Peter, is a good place to begin.

William Barclay writes, “Life is at its noblest and its best when our

effort co-operates with God’s grace to produce the necessary loveliness.”

The author of 2 Peter encourages us to do this and reminds us that through

“His divine power,” Christ “has given us everything we need for a godly life”

so we “may participate in the divine nature” (1:3-4). We are told:

For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness;

and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control;

and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness;

and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection,

love. (2 Pet. 1:5-7)

We are given a list of the behaviors and attributes Christ exhibited throughout

the three years He was in ministry. The book of 2 Peter calls us to mirror

these behaviors and attributes, to add them to our faith to have an impact

on the Kingdom of God.

In fact, 2 Peter tells us, “For if you possess these qualities in increasing

measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in

your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1:8). According to scripture, the

Christian life should be a steady advance, moving from virtue to virtue, being

changed, as Paul writes, “. . . into the same image from glory to glory, even as

by the Spirit of the Lord” (2 Cor. 3:18).

The list of Christ’s behaviors and attributes we find in 2 Peter has been

called The Ladder of Virtues. Before we can begin climbing this ladder, we

must have faith. On our own strength, we will not be able to ascend each

rung on the ladder and reach the top; we need help. Jesus said, “I am the vine;

you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much

fruit; apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). Paul writes, “For it is

[not your strength, but it is] God who is effectively at work in you, both to

will and to work [that is, strengthening, energizing, and creating in you the

longing and the ability to fulfill your purpose] for His good pleasure” (Phil.

2:13, AMP).

The Holy Spirit Takes up Residence

That night as I was driving home from seminary, God spoke Malachi 1:2 to

me: “‘I have loved you,’ says the Lord.” Immediately, my guilt was gone and I

was made “whiter than snow” (Ps. 51:7). After I responded to Christ, the walls

that held me crashed down. 1 John 1:9 tells us, “But if we confess our sins to

him, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all

wickedness.” When we cry out to Jesus, asking Him for forgiveness and for a

relationship with Him, God’s Word tells us it is at that moment that the Holy

Spirit comes to reside within us. Billy Graham explains:

God heard that first cry for help, that cry for forgiveness, and

answered it at Calvary. God sent His only Son into the world to

die for our sins, so that we might be forgiven . . .

But God also heard our second cry, that cry for goodness,

and answered it at Pentecost. God does not want us to come to

Christ by faith, and then lead a life of defeat, discouragement, and

dissension. Rather, He wants to ‘fulfill every desire for goodness

and the work of faith with power; in order that the name of our

Lord Jesus Christ may be glorified in you’ (2 Thessalonians 1:11-

12). To the great gift of forgiveness God adds also the great gift ofthe Holy Spirit. He is the source of power who meets our need to

escape from the miserable weakness that grips us. He gives us the

power to be truly good . . .

The important thing is the great central truth—when I come

to Christ, God gives His spirit to me.

Paul tells us, “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy

Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your

own . . .” (1 Cor. 6:19). Jesus told his disciples, “If you love me, keep my commands.

And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to

help you and be with you forever—the Spirit of truth. The world cannot

accept him because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him,

for he lives with you and will be in you” (John 14:15-17).

As children of God, the Spirit of God lives within us to help teach,

guide, and empower us so we might become more like Christ, but we must

tap into that power. Jim Cymbala, in his book, Fresh Power, writes:

Some of us apparently are of the opinion that we are basically

doing okay in our spiritual life and church life. We don’t sense any

urgent need for a deeper work of the Holy Spirit. The truth is, we

are not really thirsty for the water of the Spirit. There is no sense

of discontent, of wanting, of need.

We must desire the Holy Spirit, allowing Him to work in our lives. The Holy

Spirit, this new power within us, enables us to be what by ourselves we could

never be and do what by ourselves we could never do. Billy Graham writes:

There is only one ultimate answer to the need of man to be

changed. Science and technology cannot change man’s basic

nature. Economic restructuring cannot change man’s basic nature.

No amount of self-improvement or wishful thinking can change

man’s basic nature. Only God—the One who created us—can

recreate us. And that is precisely what He does when we giveourselves to Jesus Christ. The Bible says, ‘Therefore, if any man is

in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold,

new things have come.’” (2 Cor. 5:17)

It is the Holy Spirit within us that will give us the strength to climb the “ladder

of virtues” listed in 2 Peter and lead us to be effective and productive “in [our]

knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.”