Years later, I moved from Ndola to Mufulira and began living with my parents. By then, my father had returned from missionary work in Congo and had settled back in Zambia.
While living in Mufulira, I joined the Christian Brethren assembly. One difference immediately stood out. Unlike the church I had previously attended, they practiced baptism by immersion rather than sprinkling. Apart from that, much of what I heard sounded familiar.
Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ.
Live a righteous life.
Walk in obedience.
Serve God faithfully.
I embraced these teachings wholeheartedly. I genuinely wanted to please God. I wanted victory over sin and longed to become the person I believed God expected me to be.
Outwardly, things appeared to be going well. People respected me, and I avoided many of the sins that often attract attention. I did not smoke, drink, or fight. In many ways, I lived a quiet, disciplined, and respectable life.
To those around me, I probably appeared to be growing as a Christian.
But appearances can be deceiving.
Beneath the surface, a battle continued. In some ways, the struggle had become even more intense. The problem was no longer mainly my outward actions. It was what was happening inside me.
People could see my behavior. They could observe my conduct and hear my words. But they could not see my thoughts.
I could.
Thoughts entered my mind that I wished were not there. Attitudes surfaced that I wanted to remove. Desires appeared that seemed completely inconsistent with the person I wanted to be.
The harder I tried to control them, the more aware of them I became.
I discovered that it was far easier to regulate my outward behavior than to govern my inner life. Others might have looked at me and seen a respectable young Christian, but I knew what was taking place in my heart.
And what I saw troubled me deeply.
Jesus taught that God looks not only at outward actions but also at the heart. That truth made my struggle even more serious. It was one thing to avoid outward sins; it was another thing altogether to possess a heart that was pure before God.
I longed for the day when my thoughts would be as pleasing to God as my outward conduct. I longed to experience true victory within.
Yet that day seemed far away.
The more I examined myself, the more convinced I became that the problem was deeper than my actions, deeper than my habits, and deeper than my efforts.
People could not see my thoughts.
But I knew they were there.
And so did God.