Answer the Call

I was born on Friday,November 14,1975 in Athens Ga at Athens Regional Hospital. The time of entry into the world was 11:30am. It was snowing when my mothers water broke;and when she was able to bring me home the temperature reached an unseasonably warm 80 degrees.I was presented to ecstatic parents Barbara and Phil Mooney. The name Jason can be translated "One who heals." The Bible passage that correlates with "One who heals" can be found in Is 61 and Lk 4. I was raised in a loving,Christian home where the truths of Gods word were presented faithfully and in an exiting manner that awakened in this boys active imagination a desire to follow Christ in some way. When I was about six years old,and in childrens church at Shiloh Hills Baptist church there was an invitation time. I told a church member named Gerald Keeslor that I wanted to accept Jesus Christ into my heart. So he led me through the sinners prayer. I have never forgotten the purple and yellow pains of glass in the secondary chapel that let such comforting light in. I made my decision to accept that a very big God had a son who died for me,and at this moment in my young life Jesus was calling me to respond to the most important decision of my life. I knew many fears as a child,but I also realized that Jesus longed to fill my whole heart with His love. A few weeks later I went forward when an evangelist named Tim Maharas led an invitation. I told him with my mom standing close by that I was called to be a missionary to Africa. I never did anything with my faith after this early decision. I do know that if you call upon the Lord like a child and you sincerly accept Jesus into your heart you will be saved. I have also understood that God can use fragments and threads of the gospel into a beautiful woven tapestry that leads to decision of mature faith when you realize Yes,it is Christ alone.
It may sound surprising that a young boy would be so matter of fact and convicted in making such a decision for Christ,but in order to recognize this it can only be seen by surveying the precious foundation that had providentially been inlaid all around my childhood in that most crucial time as a young person when you are so impressionable and most formative. I know my mother prayed scripture over me when I was in the womb that "God would give me a future and a hope and plans for my welfare and not for disaster."(Jer 29:11-12) "So when I called out to God one day He would be found by me." As my mom glided gently back in forth in her favorite rocking chair reflecting on my soon to be birth she would even pray aloud for my future mate.
I gravitated to the experience of God that was taught to me through stories of the Bible which were shared as truth without any doubt or skepticism in a way that my tender heart was stirred. I was involved in AWANA at Shiloh Hills Baptist Church which is an athletic competition that emphasizes the memorization of the truths of scripture so that "one may be an approved workman who needeth not to be ashamed,rightly dividing the word of truth." As I have become a man I am so greatful that those Bible verses covered over my ears at a young age and deposited wisdom into my heart and mind,because this foundation would prove instrumental in ultimately giving over the control and direction of my life to Jesus Christ later in life. Now dont get me wrong I wasnt packed and ready for Africa just yet. I would begin to say to my mom Awana,Awana,Awana quit before each Tuesday evening that my Awana team met. I would consult my moms nursing textbooks to try to come up with an illness if it would keep me from awana. I also had many fears as a child that would often wake me up in the middle of the night. I would yell out to my parents because I was afraid;and my mother would always suggest that I get out my Bible, because the living God cared about my fears.



I adored my mother and father as I was growing up. They were affirming,and instilled in me the fact that I was special. I embraced life with an air of possibility and exitement. Around age 5and 6 I remember how exited I was when my dad came home from work at Oxford Industries. My dad was a touchstone of unconditional love. We spent time together working on piecing together and painting model airplanes that we would string up and tack through the cieling which became a virtual skyline full of aircraft battle that my vivid imagination would summon any time I looked up in my room. My mom was a nurse;and I remember her tender care during those times I was sick with the flu. I will never forget how she would gently message my cheast with vicks vapor rub to soothe cheast congestion.



To be lost as a child in a world of National Geographic,The Chronicles of Narnia,by C.S. Lewis, and Choose Your Own Adventure books allowed me to become someone else in an instant. National Geographic became an open door to adventure,and a busted out window to a place of light far removed from some of the dreary moments of esteem issues that seemed to surface really no more than a gentle dip into a blue sea in my soul where some unexplained sadness tended to float by often unrecognized in the ebb and flow of a childs life. Each month when I recieved a copy of Natl Geog it was like a ticket for a far flung journey amidst the exotic places and people of the world. As I expectantly turned page after page of each issue what was impressed upon my heart was the handiwork of God throughout the earth and the far reaches of the universe. I will never forget those coveted trips to Gritters Library adjacent to Shaw Park in Marietta,Ga. I can still remember the moldy smell of worn books and stretched binding. I even enjoyed just rubbing the yellow stained corners of pages between my fingers;and it puzzled me to think about this peculiar and growing affection toward words that seemed to follow one another into orderly sentences as if from nothing, in some strange other world. Who are these writers I would whisper aloud if I was brave enough to break away from the childrens books in pursuit of the stacks which held adult, classic fiction books I had overheard my group reader mention. It was all about savoring the experience of the inner life of ideas awakened.

In 1982 when I was six years old I attended Greater Atlanta Christian School. I was selected to be the reader for several school plays including The Giant Turnip. The Marietta Journal did a piece on an airline trip my class went on to Montgomery Alabama. There was a picture of me taken from the cockpit,and in the article I was called the "inevitable cassanova" when I disclosed to a reporter that "I had just broken up with another girlfriend because all they do is pester me."