As far back as I can remember, I've always asked myself the question;
"If there is a God Who knows everything there is to know about me, why
doesn't He ever talk to me and why can't I know Him?" My brothers and I were
always taught the truth about Him by our mother, but I never before knew of
His reality in any real sense of the word until many years later. The times
my older brother and I went to a small Baptist Church, we almost always went
with one of our older half brothers. I would be surprised if they exceeded more than a
dozen occasions.
Upon a dare with this other younger brother, we both walked the aisle
together and got "saved," (whatever that meant), and later baptized. All we
knew was that for some reason God wanted us to, so we did. Except for the times
our mother would quote scripture to us (which was seldom) that was about the
extent of our Christian upbringing.
Since about eight or so, I have always sensed that this same Jesus (whoever
He was) had His hand on me for something greater in the future, though I knew
not what or when. But life goes on and the years passed. Being dissatisfied
with my existence, I began to tell myself that there had to be more to life than just this one.
In 1970 my wife and I lived in a very small garage apartment in a town
bordering Houston called Galena Park, Texas. We had only been married since
1968 and she was pregnant with our first son. As was my habit, I, not being
satisfied with any job, had drifted several times that year, and was once
again home and out of work while she was on her job at the phone company.
There was a long, straight staircase up the inside corner, and back of the
garage. On this day I spent watching TV, I heard someone walking up the
stairs. I waited at the door until they reached the top and knocked before
answering. To my surprise, it was a very, very old lady that looked as if she
shouldn't even be able to walk up the stairs, but she wasn't even out of
breath. She said nothing, only handed me "a plain English" version of the
New Testament named; "Good News for Modern Man." I said, "Thank
you!" and looked for a response, but there was none. She just gently smiled
a knowing smile, turned around and walked back down the
stairs again, so I closed the door. After looking at it's title, I opened the
door again, and she had vanished. I didn't think too much of it at the time,
but wondered how she could reach the end of the stairs and cross the total
length of the garage so quickly, before I could even read the front cover and open the door again. It was only a matter of seconds before she was nowhere
outside to be seen. There being nothing much to do that day, I sat down and began to read.
After just a few hours, it was as though someone had turned on the light of the
whole world to me! I remembered thinking, even before I read the
scripture where Jesus states; "I am the light of the world..." that this book was
like none other I had ever read before, alive, as if written just for me.
To know that there was a life far beyond any other known to me was
astounding to say the least. It was as if God Himself was speaking to me in a
very personal way, and wanted desperately to teach me about
Himself, wanting me to know how important I was to Him for some, yet unknown
reason. I began to have a strong feeling come over me, something I had never
experienced before. I was somehow filled with an extreme joy that I didn't even
understand at the time. This joy and new found understanding didn't depend
upon any circumstances that I found myself in, no matter how bad they got.
Rather, it far exceeded this life all together in some timeless
way. There is not, nor has there ever been, any thought to describe this awareness
in all the linguistics of the world. I knew for some reason I
received it and never, ever wanted to lose it.
My wife came home and as I tried to describe this feeling and the truth
contained in this book to her, she abruptly cut me off saying, "If you want to
start going to church, you go ahead, but as far as I'm concerned, you count me
out. Don't ever ask me about it again, and I don't ever want to talk about it
again." I told her that our baby would be born shortly and I wanted to raise
it in the church, unlike ourselves. I remember thinking that this quiet,
sweet wife of mine that worshiped the ground I walked on, had some deep
problem and the more I pressed her about it, the angrier she got, so I gave up.
I went back to work again about a month or so later, and both the
feeling and understanding began to fade and got swallowed
up in my busyness. I soon put the bible down and life seemed to just get in the way as it so frequently does. I later found myself on another job, then
another, then another, as more years passed.
I grew older in the 60's and early 70's which were, to
say the least, very turbulent times. Those were the years of sex, drugs, and
rock n' roll. There were university take overs, sit-in's, love-in's, marches
for, marches against, and Vietnam. Someone had killed our president, and it
wasn't Lee Harvey Oswald, thus destroying our faith in the government
system. While L.B. J. was sending more and more troops to 'Nam, I was 4-F
(medically unfit for service), for which I had earlier cursed God . Apart from the dope smoking, and getting drunk every chance I got with my friends, I
didn't take much part in these times. My turbulent times were in my own life
and head. During this time, I had almost ruined my marriage and my family. I had
little relationship with my three sons, and my employment record was
loaded with too many short-time job positions. Many a time I spent wasting my
life with depression so bad that I would sit with a loaded gun in my lap,
daring myself to just pull the trigger, get it over with, and go to hell were
I belonged. I pictured myself as a dog chasing it's tail. The more depressed
I became, the more hateful I treated my wife. I left her every weekend. The more I drank, or smoked dope, the more
depressed I got, etc. Many a night I spent wrenching my guts out facing the
inside of a toilet bowl asking myself, "This is supposed to be fun?"
"Blessed are those that do hunger and thirst after
righteousness, for they shall me filled."
Unknown to anyone, I had longed for years to get this feeling and
understanding back I had received in 1970, but never picked up the bible again
in all those years and never told anyone. In 1977, I had just gone to work at
a motor home dealership as a mechanic. Several months later they hired a new
guy with whom I never had much dealing with, as he was on the other side and down
the shop from me. He seemed like a nice guy, but something else was different
about him. One day, I saw him reading a bible to the other mechanic in
the next stall, as I was going to the parts department. I stopped, walked over
to him, and told him, "I knew you were a Christian!" To which he replied, "Oh
yeah? How did you know?" I then said, "I don't know, just something about the way you look." He then said, "I know something about you too!" I said,
"Do I know you?" He said, "Not that I know of!" I sarcastically said, "Okay! What do you know about me then?" He then said, "I know you have been seeking the Lord for seven years now, and one of the reasons I'm sent here is to help
you find Him." I began to get angry, and asked him if he had been inquiring about me or what? He said he hadn't, but rather God was speaking through him to me now, and He knew everything about me. When I turned around
to see the other person he had been talking to, he had taken his chance to
retreat and go back to work.
We went into the motor home in his stall and for
about 2 hours he began to strip away all the barriers that I had placed in
front of me, the walls we all have, trying not to let anyone really know who we are. Within that time, he told me things about myself that no one on earth
knew except God and myself. I kept asking him how he knew all this, and he kept telling me that he didn't know anything about me, that it was God who was speaking through him to me. I really thought he was a first class
nut, but the fact was, he knew these things that no one else did which caused me to listen to him for so long. In some sense of the word, I stood before
him as if naked, every secret thought was open to his eyes, and every hidden thing about me, was revealed. He explained what had happened to me in 1970 and that God had chosen me for Himself, to know Him, reveal His love to me, that I might know, serve, and, love Him also. I told him about my wife
and what she had said, and that she would probably divorce me. He just quoted this scripture to me; "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and
all these things shall be added unto you." Because of what had happened, I
believed him, and made the decision to seek the Lord for myself, no matter
what the cost.
I found out his name was Richard, and the next day I asked him about some of the things we had talked about
the day before. He stopped me and told me that he remembered that we had talked for quite some time, but he didn't remember what he had said. I pressed him saying, "Yes you do! You said something about...." He then cut
in and said, "Whatever we talked about yesterday was none of my business, that was between you and God, and honestly I don't remember anything I told you
yesterday." I thought he was kidding, but he was serious. I even tried to see if he might be playing some game with me, so I would ask him about something a month later we had talked about that day, but he still didn't remember. After being convinced Richard was telling the truth, I remember thinking; "What a precious God, to not let anyone else know all my past secrets
and sins, not even the person that He used to reveal them to me!"
The next week, Richard invited me to a week long revival at his church. I tried to decline, saying that I lived on the other side of town and wouldn't
have time to get cleaned up and go. I was more worried about my wife being angry with me because of her feelings on the subject. Her love for me was almost gone, now being all transferred to our three sons, and she would probably divorce me, where she wouldn't have earlier in our marriage. I couldn't blame her though, I had killed her love toward me a long time ago, by being such a first class jerk. Richard said, "We are about the same size, I'll call my wife and you can use our other shower, eat, then go from my house." I reluctantly agreed after thinking this was something God Himself wanted me to
do. I told God that I would obey Him no matter what the cost. I also
remembered the scripture, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His
righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you." My marriage was
one of these "things," so I called my wife at work and told her about what I was going do. She was furious, and told me
that she and the kids might not be there when I got home. So I followed Richard home and as he had said, everything was all laid out and supper was ready.
We got all cleaned up and even arrived at his church early that evening.
The evangelist was someone I had never heard of before named Mario Marillio.
Being from a Baptist background, I never heard anyone preach like this before.
I don't remember the sermon, but I do remember that it wasn't long into the
service, that I started feeling a very deep sorrow for God and all He had
done, or rather tried to do for each one of us on this earth, both in the
past, and the present. After the altar call was given, I would have run to
the front to receive this Jesus as my personal saviour, but did not think that was appropriate!
So I walked... and I felt that the weight of all my sins were
lifted off my shoulders, I felt that something had changed from deep within
me; I was no longer the same person that walked in there that night, nor ever
would be!
This service was at an Assembly Of God Church something to which I was not accustomed. During the service there were people speaking in some
language that I had never heard before. One would get up and speak this
language and another from far away would give the interpretation as to what
the other had said. There were people crying, lifting their hands, etc. There
were a lot of strange goings on, but most of this religion thing was
strange to me so far anyway, so I reminded myself of that fact during the
service. After the service, this Mario Murillo would walk around the platform
like he was thinking, then point out someone in the crowd and tell them to
stand up. After standing, he would then tell them of some disease they had,
and that the Lord was healing that problem. Every time they would admit to
having it and sometimes people in wheelchairs would get up and walk. Sometimes he would call people by name, while others by just saying someone in this section". There were people with cancer, heart problems, the lame, the sick, diseased, all were healed that night. There must have been about fifty
of them.
When I got home, my wife was extremely angry with me and wouldn't
speak to me, so I went on to bed. I secretly prayed about her feelings and feel asleep praying. This routine was to follow every night for the next three days. Every night I went back to church with Richard, I would
come home to my wife being angrier and angrier, but she never wanted to talk
about what the real problem was, so I would go on to bed so I could go to work
the next day.
About the third night, I was suddenly awakened by my wife sitting in the
middle of my stomach, punching me in the face with both fists with all the
strength she could muster. I shoved her off me and asked, "What is the
matter with you?" In a rage, she sat up against the headboard of the bed and said,"Nothing!" Strangely, I wasn't even mad at her for doing such a
thing. I had this feeling of extreme love for her come from within me, and I
wasn't going back to sleep until she told me everything. I began to talk to
her but it wasn't me doing the talking. I opened my mouth but the words were
somehow by-passing my thoughts and coming out in the purest form of love I had ever spoken, but still it wasn't me doing the talking. That night I learned that my wife was deathly afraid of God, and ever getting close to Him. From a
child she had the idea that if she got close to the Lord, He would kill her, and she didn't want to die, nor did she want me to die either. The only time she had ever gone to church was either to a wedding or a funeral. Coming from
a large family the funerals far exceeded the weddings. During these funerals the pastor or preacher would always talk about how close the relative got to the Lord before they died, and that this death was just "the
Lords will." From that assumption she was deathly afraid for me. She was afraid that I would soon die too. After spending the rest of the night talking to her, she agreed to go to the revival that night with me.
Since I had to go home this evening to get cleaned up and pick her up, we
arrived late. We were the last ones that walked into the church that
night. A lady got up, speaking this unknown language and the interpretation was given by another woman as we sat down. The interpretation was, "In walks to my
house a young lady........" These words were directly to my wife. I nudged her and asked, "Did you hear that?" She just nodded her head with big tears running down both cheeks. Later that night, many more people were saved and healed. And, Praise God, she too gave her life to the Lord Jesus Christ!
That was 21 years ago, and neither of us have regretted it for a single
day. Rather, we regret having waited for so long before believing and
turning our very lives over to His keeping. "Though the Lord slay me, yet
shall I Praise Him!" Amen!
