Chapter 4: The Altar
When Conviction Becomes Surrender
I don’t remember there being an altar call.
No persuasive speech.
No emotional invitation.
Just music.
Just truth.
Just the Holy Spirit.
Just scripture:
“But when the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the angels with Him, then He will sit on His glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before Him; and He will separate them from one another, as the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats; and He will put the sheep on His right, and the goats on the left..." —Matthew 25:31-46
It was a Keith Green concert. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the song. "The Sheep and the Goats." I remember leaving my seat and running to the front. I remember the crowd. I remember the moment—standing at the edge of the stage, overwhelmed by conviction. I remember realizing that I had been playing games with God. And He wasn't amused.
I wasn't just addicted. I was divided.
I wanted God—but I wanted my sin too.
I wanted forgiveness—but I didn't want surrender.
That night, everything changed.
I prayed: "Father, I don't want to be interested in any other girl until I meet the one I will marry."
And I wasn't.
The weeks that followed were electric. I was going to Bible studies all over town several nights every week. I discovered new worship gatherings. I participated in mid-week services. I made new friends—Godly friends who walked with me as we dove into this new life.
No drugs. No sex. Just transformation.
I was living in the light for the first time. Boldly facing reality for the first time.
Then I met her.
The answer to my prayer.
I knew immediately that she was "The One."
She made me want to be a better Christian. A better man.
We courted. We worshiped together. We dreamed of marriage and children.
But the spiral wasn't gone. It was dormant. Waiting. Because Satan is meticulous in his commitment to trip us up.
In time, I began fantasizing about her.
Then acting out those fantasies in private.
Then acting out with her.
Then guilt. Shame. Prayer. Re-commitment.
The cycle had returned—familiar and unforgiving.
We talked about it. We prayed about it. We tried to stop. But I couldn't.
Years later, I learned how addiction rewires the brain. How spiritual slavery isn't just metaphor—it's reality.
Jesus said,
"Everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin." (John 8:34)
That was me.
Even after the altar. Even after the prayer. Even after the transformation. I was still trapped.
Isaiah's Vision
Isaiah 6
Isaiah was in the temple.
His king had died and he was desperate. Worshiping. Seeking. Waiting.
Then the heavens opened and he saw the Lord—high and exalted. He saw the angels shouting, "Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory!” (Isaiah 6:3)
But Isaiah didn't celebrate. He collapsed.
"Woe to me!" I cried. "I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips..." —Isaiah 6:5
In that moment, he fell under deep conviction. Not condemnation. Not shame. He found himself in the presence of Truth. And the truth was: He was a sinner in the presence of the Holy, holy, holy God. In that moment, he saw himself through the lens of God’s law. And God’s law demanded that he should die.
But then came the coal—the burning ember from the altar. When it touched his lips, it brought cleansing. Healing. Commissioning.
"Your guilt is taken away," the angel said. "Your sin is atoned for." —Isaiah 6:7
Then came the call: "Whom shall I send?"
And Isaiah replied, "Here am I. Send me."
The Altar Is a Beginning
The altar isn't the end of the spiral; it's the beginning of surrender. It’s the place where we stand naked before God and confess. No masks. No fig leaves. No hiding.
Isaiah didn't walk away perfect; he walked away commissioned. God made it clear that He still had a plan. A job for Isaiah to do. And He had assured Isaiah that he could still be used—even as a sinner.
I didn't leave that concert healed. I left it awakened. Awakened to the reality of a gracious, forgiving, restoring God. A God Who continued to love me—even in my sin.
Conviction isn't shame—it's invitation. An invitation to be cleansed. To be called. To be changed.
God doesn't wait for us to be ready. He meets us in the moment. In the spiral.
He touches the unclean. He speaks through the broken. He commissions the redeemed.
Then He sends us.