Genesis 6:3 And the LORD said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be an hundred and twenty years. was raised in an almost Christian home.
My father was an honorable, caring gentleman who kept a Bible on our mantel all my growing up and read it regularly. He even had me read both the Old and New Testaments through at least once growing up. It was not King James, but it was a Bible.
My father was vehement that you cannot know if God exists or not. Christianity is just a set of moral values that are a really great way to live. Don’t take religion seriously; it is just a means of living clean and of having fellowship with people who live right.
He was extremely honest and could not abide liars. He loved his wife and even went hungry a few times, but we kids never did.
My mother was an honorable, caring lady who believed she was an Anglican because she had been baptised as a child. She did go to church from time to time, seldom taking us with her. For her, religion was a personal thing. Anything that you did sincerely was pleasing to God. When I was a teenager, Dad had became an invalid and Mother worked as a school secretary. She still found time to play with us kids, take care of Dad, and love on the kids at the Ming Quong home- an orphanage for severly mentally disadvantaged oriental children.
Both my parents loved me and wanted me to turn out right. We lived in the American dream in classic suburbia – 1/16 acre, single family dwellings – on a beautiful lane called Little Field. In my preteens, a Baptist pastor moved in at the head of the lane with three sons, my age approximately. At the other end of the lane, near the culdesac, lived a young couple without children. The husband was some sort of saleman who would be gone for weeks at a time. It became obvious that the wife and the pastor were carrying on an illicit sexual affair, and during this time when I would play with the three boys, they would aggressively try to convert me and get me to come to church. My father despised their hypocrisy and told me: “Don’t you ever become a Ba-a-aptist!”.
I went to a huge regional high school, and there I met another Baptist. She seemed a strange person. She always had this big white Bible on the top of her huge armload of books. She never dated, and she was a straight A student. We teased her because when called upon to answer in science class, she would give the Darwinistic book answer and then say “Bu-but the Bible…”. She witnessed to me at different times when I would ask her curiosity questions. I pooh-poohed her as taking her religion far too seriously.
Early in my high school years, I bought a motorcycle with my lawncare earnings because at the time it did not require a license to drive. I rode it until I left for the Air Force two years after graduation. God had many chances to kill me with my motorcycle, but all I wound up with were some road rash, cuts, bruises, and ruined clothes.
Then I enlisted in the Air Force. It was in defiance of my father, an island hopping Marine in World War II. He wanted me to be a Marine also. Marines were getting killed in Vietnam so I chose the Air Force. God had plans for me that I did not know about. I was sent to an Air Force base in southern California. There I met some real nice folks and started attending a store-front Pentecostal church across the parking lot from a store-front Baptist church. I did not have a car and so sometimes when my ride would not show up, I would hitch-hike out on the perimeter road praying: “God, if You want me to go to church, You will have to provide a ride.”. Often I would be picked up by a Baptist couple with two little girls. They witnessed to me several times and invited me to visit their church, and even offered a free home cooked meal. I was reading my Bible regularly but still did not know what to say to them except: ”I have my own church.”.
From there I went to central Vietnam. God had many chances to kill me there. We received a rocket or mortar attack about at least a couple times a month, but the main hazard was the job – minor construction with inadequate tools and techniques OSHA would not approve of. A loving and patient God still had plans for me.
Evenutually I was sent to an Air Force base on the pan handle of Florida. A friend saw me in the chow hall with a New Testament in my pocket and invited me to his Baptist church. I started going there regularly and, frankly, I learned the Baptist language. So when the pastor took the time to visit me three times in the barracks, I answered all his questions correctly and was baptised.
What I was really doing was what my father had taught me: I was using the church as a means of living clean and having fellowship with nice people. Over the almost six years I was attending that particular church, I gradually became convinced of Baptist doctrine, and worked as bus captain, and as a vacation Bible school teacher, and went on visitation. I even married a Baptist. How many times did I hear the Gospel during that time?! And how many times did I give it out to others?! I knew that Jesus could save me. But I was not a sinner, I was okay because, much to my father’s disgust, I had become a Ba-a-aptist.
From there, I went to many duty stations, and many Baptist churches-some good and some terrible-and tried to raise a family. I made more professions of faith and was baptised again each time. Each time seeking the peace that others seem to get.
I worked once with a young American native who got dramatically saved in the barracks. One day he was a lazy, drug-using, rebellious boozer; and the next he was apologizing to me, his sargeant, asking me how he could be a better airman. He threw away his alcohol collection – much to the consternation of his barracks mates. He went from turmoil and self doubt and self destruction to peace in the space of weeks. That was real Christianity!
Finally my Air Force career was over. As those first few transition years went by, I made every financial, educational, employment, and even every family mistake there was to make, in spite of the extensive counsel I was given before and during those traumatic times.
Finally I reached bottom. I felt like a loser – a failure. I was over 40 years old having spent decades pretending to be an upright Christian, and yet I was defeated and ready to surrender.
I felt that Christianity works for others, and I had even recommended Christianity to others. But it did not work for me. I felt I was one of those people who could not be saved. Time was passing. God could have up and killed me at any time. I was at the edge of the pit.
At last the Holy Spirit broke through. Of course, Jesus has the ability to save me! Of course, He is the only one who could save me. Of course if I just turned to Him in faith, He would provide enough faith to save me! Of course, if I was just willing to turn to Him from my sin – including my so-called Christianity, He would provide enough repentance to save me. Of course, I could not be saved if I relied on being a Baptist to be saved! I could ONLY be saved if I relied on Him to save me!!!
2 Peter 3:9 The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.
Hebrews 6:1 Therefore leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on unto perfection; not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works, and of faith toward God,
When I went forward this time, this new pastor would not let me off the hook with my glib answers like before. No easy profession this time. He made me wait. I prayed and begged God to make it real this time. So when I was finally talked to, I did NOT just spout a Sunday school lesson, I simply said yes.
Isaiah 26:3 Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.
The Lord is longsuffering, and merciful, and gracious, WAY beyond human capacity or inclination.
This loving Pastor even made me wait and demonstrate works mete for repentance before he baptised me, and good thing too. This extra time gave me reassurance that I was saved for real this time! So in the more than 25 years since, there has been no doubting. I truly did trust my Lord Jesus to save me and I truly did repent from all my sins. And, it must be said, I truly have been chastised since, and made my ways straight, without doubting my salvation.
The clock has stopped ticking. He can take me anytime. And if He does, I will be with Him; and I am confident it will be in His time. Time is no longer in short supply.