20 Church 3 – Saved!

Church3, Saved!

On the night of my solo tie-cutting, March 8, 1966, I went to the church attended by my roommate, as fellow flight student; it was Friendship Baptist Church; they were holding “revival” meetings at that time, with a guest preacher.  I went, though half drunk, ignorantly thinking to win my roommate’s girlfriend, who was the church’s pianist.  I responded to the invitation (no doubt I was a sinner and needed to be saved), prayed, and the Lord saved me that night!

Back in our room, I poured my bottle of whiskey down the sink (never had another drink); and my roommate and friend led as we had bedtime prayer, which became a lifetime habit.  The next day, also led by him, I bought a Bible – Scofield reference King James version, like his; it had India paper pages (thin, yet opaque and strong), and was leather bound with black Marrakech goatskin (Moroccan – I thought this was exotic and therefore grand).  Later I marked my Bible prominently “BLOOD” with red nail polish, which was provocative and attention-getting (and vain).  I began another habit: I read my Bible through each year, and in the first three years did so annually, taking copious study notes.

On annual leave from the Navy, one Thanksgiving in my mother’s home, my sister Barbara was delighted that I had become saved.  That summer my sister’s only child, Rebecca, had gone to Highland Park Baptist’s “Camp Joy” in Harrison TN, where she became sensible of her sin, and I told her more on; later the Lord saved her too.  He’s so faithful to save entire families and remove from them unbelievers.

Our pastor lived near the church with his wife and their many (I think seven) children; he baptized me and (probably hastily) appointed me a deacon in his church; I taught Sunday School classes, particularly the high school group of which my then sweetheart was a member.  I was “adopted” by a sister, by the family of my girlfriend’s uncle, and by another sister, and read “Our Daily Bread” and other devotional sermon booklets of Radio Bible Class; I was quite a fan of Dr MR DeHaan and his son Richard W.  I bought and read several of John R Rice’s books, read old sermons in the “Sword of the Lord” which I subscribed to, and was a daily radio listener to “The Morning Chapel Hour” with Wilbur Nelson, Jay P Green’s program (on my way to my squadron in RI I drove by his headquarters near Bob Jones University in Greenville SC and bought a few books), and the program of Perry F Rockwood.  My pastor had a weekly radio program called “The Shepherd’s Voice” which I listened to most Sundays.  I was a regular soul-winner at our church’s weekly visitation; I remember telling one skeptic that I wouldn’t wear off.  Once I attended with our pastor and a few others in his car, a large “preacher’s conference” at “Camp Zion” in Myrtle MS sponsored by Percy Ray, who was an acquaintance of our pastor.  Besides taking me along on his pastoral calls, he fancied himself an expert on prophecy, and introduced me and my roommate to a friend of his, who wrote several short books (I bought and read some).  This man pastored another local independent Baptist church and was a founder of a Christian college and an affiliated school in Pensacola; he taught evening courses, which we attended, on the NT books of Matthew and Revelation.  He had me at his home one night; a former Catholic and dance band drummer, he became an avid Bible student when he converted.

When I moved to Whiting field, I aligned with a church in Milton, and had as my special friends that pastor and two leading men, and their families; I took part in the church’s ministries and prayer times with these men.  One of the men had as his hobby fresh-water fishing, so at the Navy Exchange with its low prices and no sales tax I bought a tackle box and fly-fishing outfit; together we frequented the surrounding ponds and streams, where I caught a few bluegill (sunfish) on “popping bugs”.

A “revival” series of meetings was held in Pensacola, which I attended with my Provident friend, who was doing his annual two weeks’ Reserve “summer camp”.

Years later, I learned that my Milton pastor died young, and several of these formerly zealous Christians fell away from the faith: one pastor had left his wife and church (he now has an radical ministry in his home state), as had my once girlfriend’s uncle; the Bible teacher ran off with his church’s secretary, but now has an extreme fundamentalist publishing ministry in Pensacola.  This makes it plain that our faith mustn’t be in men, but in the Lord Jesus.

My friend retired from a successful real estate business, and he and his wife live on a small farm near Pensacola; they raised their son and a few adopted children; now he heads a fruitful men’s ministry on the farm.

After flight school we went different directions: I for helicopters to RI, where I married and settled; he for patrol planes to MS, and returned to Pensacola, where he settled.  Yet the Lord has kept us connected; one summer they drove their Honda Odyssey to New England to visit briefly; they joined us for worship at QBC, and then for an afternoon outing at Quonset Point.