My Journey to Christ

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty’s form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,
Calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime —
The image of Eternity — the throne
Of the Invisible…
— George Gordon Byron

I awoke in the middle of a calm Florida night not knowing why.

Something had stirred me from sleep — an inward tug I couldn’t explain. Quietly, I dressed and walked the two hundred yards from where I was staying to the shoreline.

Like a magnet, I was drawn to the ocean.

I sat on the sand about twenty yards from the dark water, watching moonlight ripple across its surface. The sea felt immense, powerful, alive. As I listened to the waves roll in and recede, I sensed that something — or Someone — was present. Not merely nature. Not merely atmosphere.

My heart wanted to speak.

So I whispered into the night. I cried out silently, unsure who might hear.

That moment on the beach was one stop among many voyages in my lifelong search for meaning.

Searching for Something More

That Florida trip came after ninth grade. Being older than most freshmen, I had earned my driver’s license earlier that year. A two-week road trip with friends felt like freedom itself. We packed into a ’67 Ford Galaxie with dreams of partying, girl-watching, and adventure.

The trip was fun.

But it was empty.

I returned home to Indianapolis feeling just as hollow as when I had left.

That was nothing new.

My life had been a series of journeys searching for fulfillment.

Early Wounds

My deepest struggles began in first grade.

I still remember the classroom humiliation. My teacher used a stuffed monkey as a symbol of failure. If you made a mistake, you wore its hat in front of everyone. It was supposed to be humorous. To a five-year-old, it was crushing.

She demanded third-grade reading levels from first graders. Those who failed were publicly shamed.

I tried. But I lacked patience, encouragement, and understanding.

That year damaged my desire to learn.

Second grade, third grade, fourth grade — the insecurity followed me. I hid report cards. I lied about grades. Cs, Ds, and Fs became my academic identity.

Without my mother’s relentless advocacy — private tutors, summer school, and repeating fifth grade — I might never have recovered.

Slowly, the waves began to calm.

Finding Success

My next voyage was called success.

Athletics became my anchor. In sixth grade field day, I won blue ribbons in shot put and triple jump. I was becoming someone.

At Westlane Junior High, success multiplied. I became starting quarterback. I lettered in golf. I earned MVP honors. I played percussion in multiple bands. I was elected to student leadership positions.

Popularity followed.

I had talent, friends, respect, and a loving family.

I had everything a junior high kid could want.

Yet something was missing.

The Storm

In February of seventh grade, a storm hit my life.

My father died suddenly.

That Thursday morning, he made me breakfast like always. He showed me his wrestling medals to encourage me before a meet. By afternoon, he was gone.

Standing before his silver coffin in our church, I felt reality break open inside me. As his casket rolled down the aisle and I followed behind — five hundred people watching — it was the hardest walk of my life.

It was the last walk my father and I would take together.

My heart was now soft.

Religion Without Relationship

Church had always felt like obligation.

Ritual. Tradition. Memorized creeds. Confirmation classes. A bishop’s blessing. I was sung to sleep and prayed to boredom.

But no personal connection.

I believed God existed. I just didn’t know Him.

So I created my own theology: If I do more good than bad, I’ll go to heaven.

It sounded reasonable.

It was empty yet would not lead to heaven.

Drowning in “Goodness”

After my father’s death, I returned quickly to normal life.

Outwardly, everything looked fine. Inwardly, I was unsettled.

Experimentation with alcohol, drugs, and partying revealed something uncomfortable: I wasn’t as good as I thought. Beneath my success lived pride, selfishness, lust, and guilt.

I had everything.

Yet nothing.

I was drowning in a sea of self-made goodness.

An Unexpected Search for Truth

Ironically, the area that once wounded me — learning — became the doorway to truth.

In ninth grade I began reading seriously: novels, psychology, self-help. But none of it filled the void.

I realized something disturbing:

I read the book I’m OK You’re OK and found out I was not okay.

I tried reading the Bible, starting in Genesis, but quickly became confused and stopped — not for lack of interest, but for lack of understanding.

Then a friend received a copy of the Bible. While flipping through it, I landed on the Sermon on the Mount.

Jesus’ words pierced me.

They weren’t merely inspiring.

They were authoritative.

This wasn’t philosophy.

This was life. True truth.

But how did it apply to me?

I longed for someone to explain.

The Answer to the Cry

Looking back, all those voyages led me to that Florida shoreline.

Soon after returning home and beginning my sophomore year, the answer came.

On Friday night, October 12, 1974, a good friend invited me to a youth meeting at a place called the Nora Teen Barn — a renovated barn filled with about two hundred high school students that met every week.

People sang songs about Jesus. Then a man stood up and explained the gospel: who Jesus is, why He came, what sin is, and what the cross means.

My heart and mind were riveted.

This wasn’t religion.

This was truth.

Suddenly I knew who had heard my cry on that beach.

The Creator of the Universe.
God.
The Lord Jesus Christ.

That night around 9:30 p.m., drowning in pride, success, and self-made goodness, I let go.

I abandoned the sinking debris of my self-image and clung to the only thing that could save me:

A blood-stained cross floating in the sea of eternity.

My long voyage ended.

And my true life began.

A Final Word: Why This Matters

Some will read this and say, That’s nice — a personal experience.

But Christianity does not rest on experience.

My faith did not begin merely with emotion, music, or atmosphere. It began when I encountered truth — historical, rational, and personal truth.

Jesus Christ did not simply teach moral ideals. He made radical claims about Himself. He claimed to forgive sins. He claimed divine authority. He predicted His own death and resurrection.

He claimed to be God in human flesh.

And then history records that the tomb was empty.

The earliest disciples did not die for a metaphor. They died insisting they had seen the risen Christ.

Christianity stands or falls on this single event:

If Jesus rose from the dead, then everything He said is true.

The gospel confronts us with a hard reality: we are not saved by being “good enough.” Scripture says that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and that salvation comes by grace — not by works — so that no one may boast.

I had tried the path of success.
I had tried self-improvement.
I had tried religion.

None of it could heal the deeper fracture inside me.

Only Christ could.

That night in 1974, I did not find God.

He found me.

The ocean that once reflected eternity now reminds me of something far greater: a Savior who stepped into time, bore my sin on a cross, conquered death, and offers forgiveness and new life to anyone who will come.

If you find yourself still searching — still drifting — know this:

The same Jesus who answered my cry is listening for yours.

And the cross still stands above every storm.

Stuart Atkins

About the Author
Stuart Atkins is a retired marketing professional with over 25 years of experience in the high-technology industry and a former adjunct professor of marketing at Cal State Fullerton, where he taught for 17 years while also operating a small digital marketing agency. He holds an MBA and two degrees in theology and has written books on business and theology. He writes on Christian apologetics, history, economics, and worldview issues, drawing on both academic study and decades of professional experience. He is the founder of ChristianProofs.com and recently released a historical time-slip novel, Lion Mountain: A Legacy Across Time: https://christianproofs.com/lion-mountain-a-legacy-across-time/