I was in my early twenties. I lived a life with no plan for the future, and no concern for consequence. And during that course, I ended up in jail in the state of Florida, arrested for drinking and driving. I had plenty of time on my hands, so I decided to read the books that they had available. I was immediately interested because the book I had picked up told of a man who lived his life similar to myself, I felt a real connection with his way of life, but at the end of the book, it explained how the man had an experience with God and his life was turned around for the good.

At that time, I had no interest in the rest of the man's story, so I put it down and started another. Again I was intrigued by the terrible life that was portrayed in this next story, and again this story turned toward the man's experience with God. I then figured out that these books were not here to entertain me. I read several of these books knowing what to expect toward the end and was satisfied to just start another as needed. But, one man's story was so moving that I continued to read until I had finished. I did not realize it at the time, but that man's testimony moved something inside of me. So much so, that I even went back and started to finish the stories that I had laid down previously.

It wasn’t long after reading those stories that, for the first time in my life, I voluntarily picked up a Bible to read it. I remember lying on my bunk, when I first got started reading, and I made a joke out loud to those who could hear, laughing at the idea of a talking serpent as described in the beginning of Genesis. I was afraid of what people would think of me reading a Bible and all. But that wasn’t what I was feeling on the inside. On the inside, I was desperate to know the God being described on those pages. I remember thinking, "God if you are there, I need you." I was broken inside.

I continued to read as the days drew nearer to my release. I was feeling better, and I was noticing things changing in my behavior also. My tone of voice wasn’t near as harsh lately, nor my attitude. Well, late one evening, after being there for about thirty days, they released me. I was on foot, and as I made my way down the road, I remember looking up into the stars and thinking, "I don’t know where my life is going, but God, I believe it’s going to be okay." I was feeling a new feeling. For the first time in my life that I could remember, I felt hope. Hope for life, hope for me.

I soon made my way back home to Kentucky. I had a new-found fire inside for God, and outside of reading my Bible, I didn’t know what to do with it. I recalled a rumor that I had heard about an old friend of mine. I had heard that he had gotten religious, so I gave him a call. Our phone conversation turned into a visit with him and his wife and his mother. I knew all three of them from our past, but it was a past that none of them were living in now. They all had wonderful testimonies about being full of the holy Ghost, and were so full of life. My friend showed me his wedding video where the saints of God were praying and singing and speaking in tongues. It was all so full of life, and so new to me.

I soon went to one of these meetings of God’s people, just like the one they showed me in the video. I remember walking in the door and being overwhelmed with feelings. It was as if the volume had just been turned way up on all of the feelings that I had been feeling for the months prior to this visit. Praise God, it overwhelms me now to consider it. I felt LIFE! Oh, and how I needed it, like a parched desert in need of rain. I felt the rain. They sang, and praised God, and spoke in tongues, overwhelmed with the power of God. It was amazing to see, but even more glorious was that it could be felt, saturating my being, and refreshing my soul. They taught me that the speaking in tongues was the language of the holy Ghost, and that every man who repents and believes the gospel receives the baptism of the holy Ghost from Jesus and that if I kept on the road that Jesus had me on, I too would receive it, and when I did, I would pray in tongues too. I had never felt anything so good in my life, and I wanted the holy Ghost!

I continued coming to these wonderful gatherings of the saints. My life changing even more now, my desire for the wickedness that I used to do was gone. My attitude was kind and I was full of hope. I was happy for the first time just to be alive.

Time passed, several months, and I didn’t know of anything left in my life to make better. My conscience was clear and my heart was happy. I felt like it was time for me to have the holy Ghost! One evening at home, about two days before another meeting of the saints, I just threw my hands up and tried to speak in tongues like I had seen them all do. Well, "That wasn’t it", I said out loud. (I laugh at it now. I was trying to find God. I had done all I knew to do. "Where was my holy Ghost?")

Those two days passed, and again the saints met to worship God. Oh, we all studied the Bible and some wonderful things were said, but I don’t know if I heard a word of it. All I remember is sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for folks to start praying. Inside I felt like a slingshot pulled all the way back waiting to let go. I just knew something was gonna happen today. And when they started praying, I shot out of my seat toward the front, toward an elder in the Lord, and before I could even get close enough to him so that he could lay hands on me to pray, my eyes squinted like I was about to get burnt by a fire. His hands touched the top of my head and my feet kicked straight out in front of me. I landed flat on my back speaking in tongues. Praise God, I had got my holy Ghost! I had faith that when that man touched me something was gonna happen, and God met my faith with His Promise.

That was about twelve years ago. I am thankful that the power of God is real. I believe I would have died without it. Thanks for listening,

Jerry