Rock Writers’ Guild

            I don’t remember the first time I got saved. All I remember is going down to the altar at every altar call. Those altar calls were always so compelling. Soul searching preaching followed by hymns that brought you to your knees. If you hadn’t sinned yet you knew you were bound to as soon as you stepped out the doors, so you just as well go on down and rededicate your life just to be on the safe side. My daddy was an evangelist so we did a lot of church going. I also attended Salem Baptist Day School till tenth grade, and we had daily chapel services. No fire and brimstone or altar calls there, although we did plenty of bible drills.

If all the tent revivals and small rural churches didn’t do it, then certainly watching a Billy Graham Crusade on TV was bound to bring me to repentance. I never have been much of a TV watcher, but Billy Graham has always touched me deeply. Just the sound of his voice can start me soul searching for hidden sin. In my experience of the Southern Baptist churches, obvious sin was too easy to spot, so we had to dig for the really deep things of God. It was not until I reached adulthood that I understood the deep things of God didn’t necessarily mean whether or not I said gosh or wore pants instead of culottes. You might think I’m stretching it, but I remember bond fires where we burned records, blue jeans and offensive tee shirts. I don’t know that it actually made me any holier, but it certainly set me up for a life time of sin consciousness.

By the time I was six, I knew how to lead someone to Christ using the Roman road to salvation, and used to walk up and down our side street asking people if they knew Jesus. Everyone I met was met with the question, do you know Jesus? Jesus is coming soon, do you know Him?

When I was older and did run into sin and fell head first into its fiery grips. I didn’t think to confess it and find peace. Each time I walked in sin knowingly I just let it overtake me. I gave in thinking there was no longer any hope for me. I was so lost even Jesus couldn’t find me.

 But He did, and when He brought me back this last time it was all about Him. There was no altar call, or TV show. He just said come, and I did.

 I had been out of church for four years, and then sporadically started back for another three.  When I moved to Hampstead, I started looking for a church for my son to attend. I couldn’t stand most of them for the same reasons I had left the church. No one believed in the Holy Spirit moving in power in this day and age. Most of the places where racially divided, and there was very little ministry for the downtrodden. I wanted a place that would allow Holy Spirit to move, and if that meant all day worship then so be it. I wanted a place where races sat beside one another and worshiped together in spirit and truth. I wanted a place where they offered a hand up to those who had lost their way.

When a friend told me about the Rock of Wilmington, I had pretty much given up. What did I have to loose? What was one more church?

The Rock was not just a place of true worship, racial equality or diversity. While I hadn’t found that anywhere in that combination, I had been able to sense the hunger of the people in many of the other churches. The Rock was different. It was a place where once again I could hear the Lord speaking to me. “Come.” He said.

 I looked down at the chains that were binding me, and the weight of sin was so heavy I couldn’t move. “Come.” He called to me again and I could not resist. I scooped up those chains and told the demons that were tormenting me that we were going in to the Presence of God. They were welcome to go with me, but I was going in. Every evil deed I had ever done or considered doing flashed before my eyes. I stopped dead still. The chains clanged at my feet. Suddenly all of the mighty things the Lord had done in my life passed before me as well. The enemy jeered at me. See that, you walked with Him before but then you failed Him, what use would He have of you now. Look at yourself you are filthy. I did look, and I was filthy.

Again the Lord said, “come to Me and I will make you clean.”  This time I picked up those chains and rushed head first toward my Savior. “Lord I cried, I am a sinner, saved by Your grace, but I have fallen away from you. Father forgive me. If you will allow me to sit outside the gate and worship You, it will be more than I deserve.”

I noticed instantly that the chains had dropped off me, and that the imps who had tortured me had ran away. They could not stand in the light of His Presence. Jesus did not grant my request that day. He did not allow me to stand outside the gate. Instead He placed on me a white linen robe and clothed me in forgiveness. When that light shown on me I could not comprehend a Love so grand. I still cannot fathom the depths of His loving kindness.

Now I seek to go to the deep places; to love and worship my Beloved Savior with every cell of my being. I see the trials I walk through now as pathways to His riches. The pain of my daily circumstances and broken relationships are nothing compared to drawing near to Him. I am yielded unto death, yet walking in the power of His resurrection.