It happened late one evening in mid December 1976, while relaxing in my recliner. I was reading a paperback book about receiving the baptism of the holy Ghost. The author was giving instructions to a congregation on speaking in tongues. My heart raced as I read in anticipation of what he would say next. The print seemed to jump off the pages, piercing my heart and soul as if he was talking directly to me. The more I read, the more I could feel something inside of me starting to swell like a river ready to overflow its banks.
Finally, I read these words, “Cry out to God! Cry Hallelujah!” Without hesitation I cried Hallelujah! Suddenly, a rush of unknown syllables came flowing out of my mouth. It really did feel like a river of living water flowing from out my belly, (John 7:38). It was a wonderful experience!
At that time, I was attending a Catholic Charismatic prayer meeting in Floyd Knobs, IN. My father and mother also received the baptism of the holy Ghost and the three of us often attended those meetings together.
My life took many twists and turns the next three or four years. The closer I got to God and His people, the more my relationship with my wife at the time, drifted farther and farther apart. We finally divorced. She moved to Tennessee taking our two small children with her. I decided to quit my job and go to college full-time. In December 1981, Jesus put Suzi and me together as husband and wife.
After I received the baptism of the Spirit, I wanted to become more involved with the Catholic Church where I was attending. I began participating in various activities such as playing with a guitar group at Sunday services. I also became a member of the Parish Council which is a committee that makes financial and other church related decisions. For a short time, I even drove a school bus on Sunday mornings picking up members and taking them to services.
My parents, Suzi and I, along with a few friends, started a Charismatic prayer group there at the Catholic Church. The meetings were held on Monday nights. People from various denominations gathered in the front of the church on the massive marble sanctuary, surrounded by tall golden candlesticks, stained glass windows, statues of various biblical figures, and a large crucifix.
Needless to say, we developed many relationships through our involvement with this church. It seemed as if Suzi and I could have stayed there forever—but Jesus had different plans for us.
In 1984, Suzi and I moved from Southern Indiana to Louisville, Kentucky. I was taking evening college classes and could no longer attend the Monday night Charismatic prayer meetings. However, I did continue playing with the guitar group on Sunday mornings.
In September of that same year, Suzi started a new job where she met a child of God named Candice (not her real name). Unbeknownst to us, our lives were about to change forever!
Candice invited us to her Friday night prayer meeting. Since we had not attended a prayer meeting of any kind in a while, we gladly accepted her invitation. This worked out perfectly for me because the time did not interfere with my school schedule.
I'll never forget the first meeting we attended. When we walked through the door, we were greeted by a young red haired man named Junior. His eyes were full of life, and with a big smile he shook my hand and said, “H-e-y there, come-on- in!”
Fifteen or twenty people were gathered in this small building that was tucked away between two houses in an older Louisville neighborhood. Right away I noticed a few flattop guitars leaning against brown metal folding chairs with their apparent owners nearby ready for action. Other people were sitting in long wooden pews upholstered with burgundy fabric. Some had small children at their feet busily coloring or playing quietly with their toys.
As I made my way to an empty seat I heard a small voice inside of me whisper, “Sit down here and be still. I am going to teach you something.”
Shortly after we were seated someone began to sing a song. My heart melted at the sound of the first strum of his guitar. Other than our brief acquaintance with Candice, we knew no one else. The only song I remember sung that night had a line it that said, “It doesn't matter where you are, it's where He is that matters.” Later, I learned that the one who sang that song was Pastor John Clark.
It is difficult to describe the feelings going on inside of me that first night. Here Suzi and I were gathered together with complete strangers in this small garage-like building that didn't even have a cross on the wall, feeling like we belonged there, as if we had finally arrived home.
Suzi and I started attending regularly every Friday night. We became more and more involved with the people and their day-to-day lives. At first we had no intention of leaving the Catholic Church where we still attended. I continued to play with the guitar group on Sunday mornings during the Catholic services in Indiana, and then on Friday nights we attended the prayer meetings in Louisville.
My hunger for the things of God was strong. Jesus gave me a desire to seek his truth and to learn to follow his Spirit rather than to simply trust in “the commandments and doctrines of men.” As time passed, I found myself changing inside. There were times I would hear Pastor John teach some truth that my mind could not fully understand, but my heart would cry, “AMEN! That feels right!” As an example, I didn’t quite understand why a person did not need to be water baptized. Water baptism, as I had been taught, was necessary for becoming a member of the body of Christ. However, I did not allow my lack of understanding keep me from denying what my heart was feeling. I finally saw that Jesus baptizes people with the holy Ghost, even if they have never been water baptized. It is Jesus’ baptism that puts people into the body of Christ, not water baptism (Mat. 3:11, 1 Cor. 12:13).
I was growing spiritually, and loving every minute of it. Without realizing it, (if I may borrow this analogy), I became like a lamb that found a hole in the fence. It would crawl through the hole and feed on the luscious pasture on the other side. When it became full it would crawl back through the hole until it was time to eat again. Finally, one day outside the fence the lamb was too fat to fit back through the hole.
Leaving my family and friends at the Catholic Church was not easy, but I knew Jesus was calling Suzi and me to a more perfect way of fellowship with Jesus and his people. I thought for sure that my family members that attended the Catholic Charismatic meetings would be as excited as I was; but this turned out not to be the case. I brought a few of them to a Friday night meeting, but to my disappointment they said it was not for them. I felt sad that they did not love it as I did.
When we finally made the decision to sever our involvement with the Catholic Church, we wanted to leave in good standing. The Catholic priest, who was also the pastor, was very close to my family. I cared for him very much. He too had been filled with the holy Ghost baptism. He had been good to Suzi and me. I invited him to lunch so that I could tell him our plans of leaving. We met in a small restaurant--just the two of us. I could sense that he was a little nervous as to what I might say. I too was feeling a little uneasy. I explained to him how I was feeling. I wanted him to know that we were not leaving because we were angry at anyone or because we had been mistreated. We simply knew that Jesus was calling us to follow him in a way of life in the Spirit and truth. It just felt right.
Many years have passed since then. I have never regretted the decision Suzi and I made to obey the voice of Jesus to leave the Catholic Church and follow him.
In reality, this is a story about God. I lack the skill of penning an adequate description of the life Jesus has given us.
We are truly blessed.