A_Personal_Testimony

“I SAW A HAND REACHING DOWN FOR HERS and knew that it was OK. “Lyn”, I said, “if you can see a hand reaching down for you, take it.” She gave a gentle sigh and died in my arms.”

. I grew up in a family with 2 fine parents, neither of whom was a Christian,although my Mother believed in God, doing good things, leading a clean lifeand generally being kind and considerate to others. I had a happy childhoodand was encouraged to attend Sunday School from an early age. I loved thesinging and the Bible stories but it meant nothing more than that.

. When I was about 7 or 8, I heard an old man preaching the Good News ofJesus on the beach. Every day during the summer months, he would bring bibles,songbooks and a tent through the town and down to the beach where he wouldconduct his one-man mission. Anyway, after he had explained something aboutthe love of Christ, he invited us kids to say a prayer with him and giveour lives to the Lord, and so I did. Nothing felt different afterwards butI was still excited enough to blurt it all out as soon as I got home forlunch. My parents told me not to be so silly and to hurry up washing my handsbecause the food was getting cold. I did as I was told (because that washow we behaved) and forgot all about it for many years.

. In my family, we all loved music, especially fine singing, and so it wasnatural that I joined the church choir when I was about 9 or 10. I used tolove the services because it was a chance to sing, I could chatter quietlyto my friends during the sermon, and if it was an evening sermon, then Icould screw up my eyes to look at the candles and see each one as a cross.Best of all, we were paid to sing!

. Nothing much happened until I was about 13 or 14. My voice started to break,the vicar suggested I should be confirmed and I ran a mile. Me get confirmed?No way. As far as I was concerned the church was full of stuffy old hypocritesand children who were goody- goodies. I didn’t want to be part of that. Iwas getting into a wild stage of my life with under-age drinking, takinggirls to the farmer’s barn and so on. And so I turned my back on the churchand walked away without any regret at the time.

. Time passed. I grew out the other side of my wild patch and married whenI was 23. She was a lovely woman – everything I could possibly want in awife and far, far more than I could ever describe. After 12 years, we had3 super children, all boys. The first was 8, the second 6 and the littleone 18 months. Then life went sour, the colors and the singing went out ofit. My wife was diagnosed as having terminal cancer.

. This couldn’t be. Not to us. She was so kind, so loving and I needed her.No, there must be a mistake. But no, there was no mistake and although wehad access to the best doctors and treatments in England, all we could hopefor was to prolong her life. . During the 2 years to 1980 when she was ill,Lyn used to go to the Sunday morning service in church and to a Bible studyclass in the vicar’s house every Sunday night. She used to get great strengthfrom it and so, as a loving husband, I helped her all I could to make sureshe never had to miss one, even when it meant carrying her because she wastoo weak to walk. I didn’t see how she got so much out of it but could seeit did something wonderful for her. . By early February 1980, she was soill she was in the hospital. We both knew she wouldn’t be coming home againand reckoned there was about 2 or 3 weeks left. Suddenly and with no apparentreason, I knew we had to get to the hospital QUICKLY. We grabbed our shoesand headed towards London. It was about 40 miles to the hospital, and meantdriving through nearly all of London on a Saturday lunchtime. The streetswere heaving with people, cars and lorries and yet, somehow, it was as thougha way was being cut through for us as we hit speeds of 80 or 90. . We reachedthe hospital and rushed up to Lyn’s room. She was in a coma and fightingfor breath, fighting to hang on. I went to her side and spoke, not knowingif she could hear me. Yes, she seemed to be able to. Her breathing increasedeach time I spoke as if she wanted to reply but couldn’t. Then, suddenly,I SAW A HAND REACHING DOWN FOR HERS and knew that it was OK. “Lyn”, I said,”if you can see a hand reaching down for you, take it.” She gave a gentlesigh and died in my arms. How could that not make an impact on a non-believer.

. In the months that followed, I searched for some purpose to life, for somespiritual input. I looked suspiciously at the Eastern cults before decidingthat they weren’t for me. All the time my desperation was growing, largelybecause I had just too much grief bottled up inside me and I was too muchin control to let it out. Then there were the kids, super boys, and theirhurt was hurting me more. Where could I turn?

. About 6 months before Lyn died, I started showing symptoms of what I thoughtmight be cancer. But with Lyn ill, what could I do? It seemed the best thingwas to leave it until she either recovered or died. Well, by the Februarywhen she died, it had grown and was so unsightly that people were keepingon at me to see my doctor and have it treated. No way, I had seen what allthat radiotherapy and chemotherapy had done to Lyn, and didn’t everyone reckonthe treatment was as bad as the disease? Forget it!

. Well, 12 months later in February 1981, I was at the end of my tether.I just couldn’t cope with the pent-up grief, the pressure was on at work,my own tumor had grown and was bleeding fairly often and I still hadn’t seena doctor. I just wanted to curl up in a corner and die. In the middle ofall this I was searching desperately for a spiritual side to my life. Everyother religion and cult had seemed like empty shams and I remembered thatLyn had drawn so much strength from her Christianity. She had always beena good judge of things – maybe she was right about this as well.

. And so, I started reading Christian books, going to Christian meetingsand so on. I could feel something reaching me but I was still holding back.I wasn’t ready, I told the counselor, I’m not good enough yet. Give me timeto be more acceptable to God. Then he explained about the Cross, about howHis own Son went to the Cross, bleeding, dying just for me and my sins. Andhow, through the resurrection, he defeated death and sin. And how I couldhave Jesus as my personal redeemer if I would only confess my sins, askforgiveness, and receive Jesus as Lord of my Life.

. Well, I did and I can’t explain the immediate happenings. Like Close Encountersof the 3rd kind but a million times more powerful. All I know is that becauseI’m human, I’ve made mistakes as I seek to follow Christ more and more everyday of my life, but I’m still accepted by God through His Son, Jesus Christ.Praise the Lord!

Computers For Christ – Chicago