Confessions of a Former Adrenaline Junkie


Hi, my name is Rob Singleton and I’m an adrenaline junkie.

At least I used to be.

To continue, my ego would have to keep writing checks my body can no longer cash!

But, there was a day…growing up I played sports like everyone else, baseball, soccer, football, wrestling—but somewhere around the age of 13 my heart began to shift from the traditional sports to the more ‘fringe’ ones.

It was around that same time that I got my first motorcycle and a few years earlier my father took the family snow skiing for the first time. I learned to ski at 11 or 12 (which is flat out ancient by today’s standards—I had my own son on skis at 4 and my daughter at 2!). And, as I said, the motorcycles came just before that. Come to think of it, skateboarding was first at around 10.

Or was it BMX bikes?

Oh, I can’t remember now. It’s been too long. The point is, I ended up loving these sports while just ‘liking’ the others.

I faced the facts early on. I was coming up too short (pun intended) to make anything of the sport of basketball, too skinny to do much with football, just plain not good enough to want to continue with baseball, etc. But, when it came to the so called ‘fringe’ sports, I excelled—especially when it came to snow skiing.

But even more important, they provided the sheer thrill these other activities just couldn’t (at least for me).

But then something else happened that would out do every thrill I’d previously encountered. I led someone to Jesus. Most of these one on one encounters are still very vivid for me.

One time, at age 15, I was in the hospital recovering from appendicitis surgery I’d had only hours earlier when they wheeled in another young boy who was preparing to have surgery. I don’t really remember what it was for, but I remember how scared he was.

At first I didn’t notice him much because I was trying desperately to honor a heartfelt commitment I’d made years earlier. A few years back, you see, I had become greatly convicted that this wonderful Savior who died for me should be reverenced as well. I talked to Jesus all throughout most days, but at night it was very important to me to pray on my knees. You see, Jesus is pure love, but He’s also a holy God.

Do you have to pray on your knees at night?


Did I?


So here was the dilemma. I could barely move. The staples in my stomach were oozing blood and the pain medication had not kicked in. But, at the same time, I felt terrible about not being on my knees before the Lord.

So I started working my way out of the bed.

It was a long process.

It caught the interest of the boy in the other hospital bed.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Should I call the nurse.”

“I’m fine,” I answered, “and I’d rather you didn’t.”

So he watched for a few minutes until he was sure I was okay and then he seemed to lose interest. Besides, he could no longer see me as I disappeared behind the other side of my bed. For all he knew, I’d keeled over and my actions were just the final throws of a mad man’s last moments.

Ok, that’s probably a bit dramatic, but he did pull his curtain back to where it was and I didn’t hear from him for quite a while.

Eventually, I managed to get back into the bed, and I lay there for a while still talking to the Lord—don’t ask me why continuing the conversation in bed is okay but starting it there is not. I was a kid! What do you expect?

Anyway, after a while and rather, ‘out of the blue,’ the kid asked. “What we’re you doing? Were you praying?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Why did you get out of bed to do it?”

“Because Jesus gave His life for me and I follow Him now. He is God and He deserves that kind of respect.”

“Wow, I don’t know much about Jesus…”

And so it went.

The long and short of it was that this young man told me he was facing something that scared him half to death and that he wished he could feel calm somehow. I told him he could and would if he just realized that he had messed up even in his short life and asked God to forgive him and then placed his trust in Christ for that same salvation I have.



“It’s that easy?” he asked.

“If you really mean it, not just in your head but also in your heart, it’s that easy. Jesus did all the hard stuff,” I answered.

“Would I have to pray on my knees?”

“No, praying on your knees doesn’t save you.”

He was quiet for a bit, as though he needed to think everything over.

Then, to my amazement, he worked his way out of bed and knelt down just as I had done.

“Will you pray with me?” He asked.

“I would be honored,” I said.

Of course it took me another 15 minutes to get out of bed again…

But it was worth it.

What an adrenaline rush!

I’ve been a junkie ever since!


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