Probably, when you see the title, you'll say .. “Ok – now, she’s going to talk about her husband.” Sorry. Not this time. And, this time, it isn't so much about homesteading as it is about just living.
You see, the He that I’m talking about today is God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I pray that as I write I don’t offend. If brass-tacks Christianity bothers you, then this post may leave you a little bothered.
I was 9 and it was September. We had been going to an old-time Methodist church near Galax, Virginia: Mt. Olivet Methodist. That was in the days before the United churches – and Mt. Olivet was a shoutin’ church. We didn’t handle snakes, or speak in tongues – but when we had a revival, it lasted for two weeks and people got saved! SAVED, I mean. really saved. And the Spirit of God blessed – and people shouted. I can still feel that joy.
Back then, no one that I knew had ever died (unless you count the black’n’tan hound pup that Tubb Nuckols ran over with his gigantic dump truck. To give Tubb Nuckols his due, I’m sure he never even saw that pup. But, anyway, back to Mt. Olivet.) I hadn’t learned any fear of death, though. My mama and daddy had taught me that every night, you kneel and say your prayers, and my prayers always ended with “Make me a good girl for Jesus’ Sake and God Bless Mama and Daddy and Frenchie and Gramma and Granddaddy and Grandmother and Great Granmaw and Aunt Pauline and Uncle Dosh and ... ” and everybody else that a tiny little heart could love and remember. The memory of my bedside, with my daddy on his knees beside me, and my asking God to bless everybody is as fresh as if it were yesterday. Just as an aside, it occurs to me that the only people still living from those prayers of yesteryear are Mama and 'Frenchie' (forgive me Pancho, I couldn't resist..), and 8 of the 12 aunts.
Well, like I said, it was September and Mt. Olivet began its biannual two-week revival. The church is small – at that time seated less than 100, I think – but in my mind’s eye, I seem to remember that it was packed every night. Ten miles to the closest town, but still packed. From the front to the back, if you got there late, you had to hunt for a seat. Our preacher was Rev. Eugene Brown, and folks said that he preached so loud because he was almost deaf. But loud preaching had nothing to do with what happened with me. At the beginning of that revival, on Sunday morning, I clearly remember realizing that I was not good enough to get into heaven. I clearly remember knowing that I was “a sinner.” It was a sobering thought – not terrorizing at that point really, but very, very sobering.
At our church, in those days, people would go to the altar and “pray through.” I’m sure that meant a time of serious confession and repentance, but when I was nine, I really had no idea what it meant. I just knew, by Wednesday night, that if I didn’t get saved, I couldn’t stand it any more. So when Preacher Brown invited people to come, I went. I remember praying, “Lord, please save me.” I remember a still small voice in my heart saying, “I will.” I remember thinking ... “It can’t be that easy - I’m talking to myself – I’ve got to stop that and really pray!” So, again, I asked “Lord, please save me.” And again, that still small voice, that I thought was my own, saying, “I will.” It just couldn't possibly be this easy. I knew that Jesus Christ, Lord of heaven and earth, had lived a sinless life – that He had suffered and died on Calvary’s tree – that He had arose from the grave, victorious over sin (and death and hell, I learned later) .. I had heard and listened, and received those truths. But, I still had this need to “pray through," so a third time, in desperation I was praying, “LORD, PLEASE Save Me!” when, this time, He gave me understanding. Just as quietly as before, He whispered “I have!” and I believed. My cup overflows as I remember it. My cup overflows as I remember the place. And the time.
My Sunday School teachers were Patrick (Pat) and June Nichols. June took her Bible and showed me the Romans Road: Romans 3:10 Romans 3:23, Romans 6;23, John 3:16, Romans 10:9-10 and Romans 10:13.
Hearing His voice in my heart and seeing it in His Word convinced me that it was really true. Although many people talk about having doubts after they trust in the Lord, I can honestly say that no matter what, and through all the things that have happened in my life, I always knew that Jesus is still and will always be my Savior. I am certain that is a blessing that I can’t truly appreciate until we all get to heaven.
At the end of the service that night, the song they sang in closing was “When We All Get To Heaven.” Sing the wondrous love of Jesus – Sing His mercy and His Grace – In those mansions bright and blessed, He’ll prepare for us a place!
There were a couple of things that changed immediately in my nine-year-old life ... I was consumed by a desire to read the Bible. I had Daddy’s Navy Bible – it was about 2 ½” wide by 3 ½” long and almost 2 inches thick – and the print was about 3 point type – but I would sit in the woodbox, just back of the kitchen stove and read the Bible until Mama was afraid I’d ruin my eyes. But, God was feeding me and it was truly more wondrous than I can describe to you.
And the second thing that changed was I had to tell everyone I talked to that Jesus had saved me. My best friend, Nancy Gravely, and her parents came to church – and they all got saved too. What a blessing. I haven’t seen Nancy since 1960 – but one Glorious Day, I will.
There is more to the story – lots more ... But that will be another day – when He lets me know it is time.
If you have any questions about any of this that you’d like me to answer privately – please write me at lindaw_at_vt_dot_edu.
There’s a little mountain church in my thoughts of yesterday
Where friends and family gathered for the Lord
Where an old-fashioned preacher preached the straight and narrow way
For what few coins the congregation could afford
Looking back now, that little mountain church house
Has become my life’s cornerstone
It was there in that little mountain church house
I first heard the Word I’ve based my life upon ....