Torch Light LARP is only meaningful, only possible, because many of us worship the Creator God, and acknowledge our salvation through his son Jesus. On this page we present for your edification some of the thoughts we have put together that describe our Christian journey.
Male, 19
Hi, my name is (Jorrok). Like many kids who were raised in a Christian home, I grew up in the church. I accepted Christ at a young age, though I don’t really recall how old I was. I have next to no memory of when I asked God into my heart to cleanse me and make me new. I had just accepted that I was now a believer and everything was pretty much OK. I didn’t truly seek God or desire to know more about Him. I simply coasted along, satisfied in my little bubble of understanding. Then, when I was in eighth grade, Pilgrim happened. Pilgrim was a musical we did in my co-op, directed by my mentors and friends. Throughout production, they would have devotional times with us, pray with us. I saw passion in their hearts for the Lord and it reflected in their overflowing joy for this chance to share the gospel with literally hundreds of people. They didn’t just “float along” in their walk with the Lord, they ran towards Him with a burning devotion. In the final prayer time before opening night, we were asked to walk through the chairs and pray over them and the people that would sit in them as they heard the gospel. As I sat in one of those chairs, head bowed, hands folded, something in my heart stirred. What was different about these ladies that I didn’t have? I knew, or at least thought I knew, everything I needed to know about God. I knew He was good. I knew he loved me. But somehow I was missing something. I was plagued by a desire to figure out what that something was as I sat there that night. I resolved to strive towards the kind of fire that I had observed. My head knew I was supposed to love God with all my heart, but I found that my heart didn’t agree. After that night, I slowly realized that knowledge wasn’t enough. I could know about every single attribute of God but if I didn’t believe it, it meant nothing. Yet as I learned more about God, I found I had a developing passion for Him. I knew that He loved me and cared for me, but until I found myself stumbling through trials and calling out to him, I didn’t understand that he loved me and cared for me. Thank the Lord for His endless kindness and patience. Each and every day I wake up and think I know almost everything I can about God’s care for me, but then something happens and like a shining crystal with a billion facets, a new angle of His character is reveled. I am a sinner, broken and twisted by sin, but thank the Lord that He picked me up from the refuse, made me new, and continues to reshape my heart. Now, I understand that fire that I saw during Pilgrim. And not only that, but that same fire now burns brightly in my heart. Sometimes I cover it up with my own sin and pride, but God in His kindness always redirects me on the right path and mercifully fans the flame to burn brighter then before. I have decided to dedicate my life to Christ and to follow Him. I am woefully inadequate. But thank the Lord that I don’t have to reach some level of worth. His son’s death took my place and made me adequate. His blood wipes me clean and I praise Him for saving a poor sinner such as myself.
Male, 54
A story.
I don’t have a good story. I was born into a Christian family. I’ve loved the Lord all my life.
Don’t confuse the lack of a story with a claim to perfection. I was born into Adam’s sin. The tempter puts thoughts in my mind and I remember with much regret pivotal times when I followed his lie. I know of daily actions where my words or deeds were not aligned with my Master’s will. But the fact that I am human is hardly a story.
While I don’t have a story of my own, the story I am part of is a good one. My dad’s mother’s Papa was a Christian who instilled in my grandma a desire to serve the Lord. A desire she was eventually able to share with my grandpa, so they could together raise a Christian son, who was my dad.
The story in which I reside has similar origins from my mother’s side, but there the parents of her parents were all four Christians, who raised Christian children, who then raised Christian children, of which I am one.
So, in this story, I have inherited a “birthright” of Christianity. Is this just good luck? Is it misfortune? Or is it a Providential blessing? These thoughts have brought to my mind the question it may now bring to yours… What if I was born into another family? Is my “birthright” — right? Did I inherit the truth or simply a tradition?
That question caused me to search, to question, to challenge. I won’t detail that journey, but the end results is a resounding, “Yes!” My “birthright” is right! It is truth. The God of the Bible is God. He guides me; He protects me; He gifts me; He enables me. The system of the Bible is correct. Living a life redeemed by Jesus, the one who conquered death and vanquished the power of Satan, is a wise way to live. It leads to joy and purpose and union with The Creator.
How do I know these things? Well, that would require at least a chapter, which I’d be glad to share with you over a mug of hot chocolate. Suffice it to say that when tested from every angle, the answer to the truth of Christianity is a resounding, “Yes!” I inherited my belief, I challenged that foundation, and with knowledge, forethought, and passion, I choose the God of the Bible, and the ways of the Christian.
I have no story. What I have is gratitude for my God, for my Savior, for my Guide, and gratitude for those before me who started writing the story in which I play a part.
Stryder
Female, 19
A song.
When I was eight years old, this was what led me to see how completely incomplete I was without the Savior Jesus Christ. I cannot remember what the verses or melody were, but I do know that was how God first called me to surrender my tempo and let Him lead. That is, I realized He wanted me to learn. Learn that He was the reason I was alive. Learn that He had nails driven through His untainted hands while I should have been the one to bear the wounds. They were my sins; tempting me, twisting me, killing me. But as Christ was killed in my stead, so was He also raised to life again. And I was raised with Him.
Some days, I thought I had my relationship with Him all figured out and planned smoothly. The next, I was aware of just how little control I had -if any at all- over life. I could have thought my years of food allergies, malnourishment, Lyme Disease, and depression were a lack of God’s care for me. But the more dependent I got, the more I loved Who I depended on. I realized it was His love for me that nourished my spirit where it was barren before. Eleven years later, I am cured of all those disorders I had dealt with. I still struggle with being human by feeling self-righteous, arrogant, and even rejecting God at times. Those are just a few of the many reasons I should have been nailed to that tree, and yet He chooses to guide my stubborn heart back anyway.
His Spirit has made me a living person. I was once dead. Completely dead. BUT BY TRUSTING IN JESUS’ LIFE AND DEATH IN MY PLACE I HAVE BEEN MADE ALIVE! And today, I yearn to be baptized, because I am celebrating and declaring my confidence that MY HOPE FOR TODAY AND FOREVER IS FOUND IN JESUS ALONE.