Several months ago we relocated from Southern California
to the small town of Atoka, Oklahoma. At the time, it seemed like an innocuous move
of small relevance, but for a cynical man such as I have been all my life, a
move to the “bible belt” was anything but casual and one small change did occur
in my life shortly after our move here.
It is no exaggeration to say that my church attendance during my
previous 20 years could be accounted for on the fingers of one hand but we were
soon invited by Lynn to attend
services at the Baptist Church
in the nearby community of Lane. The
church was ministered by Pastor John Howard.
Pastor Howard is an engaging speaker whose sermons embody the flavor of
“that old time religion” and I found myself returning week after week to hear
him speak. It was incredible, I had
attended church no more than three times in the past 10 years and here I was
returning for four consecutive weeks!
When we first arrived in Atoka, I was immediately immersed
in the cattle business with my cousin Richard whose entire life had been
immersed in what I considered biblical fantasy.
Richard is a highly trained minister of the gospel and had been a
chaplain in the Army. I suffered
Richard’s bible thumping manner with a little chagrin and large doses of
ridicule leveled at his childlike interpretation of biblical events.
Richard’s efforts to enlighten me were met with fierce
resistance. I had unassailable answers
for everything and could not be moved by his best efforts. “I know God,” I told him “and I don’t need to
be saved.” This was the state of our
relationship on that fateful morning of March
10, 2013. That Sunday
started out like any other day. I was up
at 4:00 a.m. for our usual 5:00 o’clock meeting at the local McDonald’s
restaurant with many other of the local cattlemen. We usually spent a couple of hours drinking
coffee before we headed out to feed the cattle at about 7:00 a.m.. It was a
daily ritual that rarely saw any variation.
What was different on Sundays was the fact that Richard conducted Sunday
services at one of the local prisons and that prevented him from accompanying
me to feed the cattle. On this Sunday,
Frank would help me with the feeding.
By 9:00 a.m. Frank
and I had finished feeding the herd and I drove him back to his “spread” on the
other side of town. Frank said all was
well when I left his place, but that was soon to change. My life was about to careen off in a
direction I never suspected, and things would never be the same for me
again. It was only about five minutes
from Frank’s place to my home, but in that short span of time my world would be
turned upside down! I remember pulling
up in my driveway, removing my hat and looking into it and that’s when it
happened. I know of no other way to
describe the dark ominous feeling that overwhelmed me other than to say it felt
like what I imagined a demon possession to be like! I was frightened by it and rushed into the
house to get my wife’s opinion. When I walked
in, I did not have to say anything. She
took one look at me and asked “what in the world has happened to you”? I told her that I thought I had just been
demon possessed! “Do you want to go to
the hospital”? she asked. “No” I said,
“I want to go to church.” Somehow, I
managed to pull myself together long enough to make it to the Lane Baptist Church
and delivered myself to Pastor John Howard.
I remember standing with him and he was looking directly into my
eyes. I was thinking at the time, does
he see me or does he see the demon that had overtaken me?
After services, Gail and
Richard took me to the hospital in Atoka and I was soon on a medivac helicopter
being transported to “Mercy Hospital” in Oklahoma City. I woke up two days later and spent a total of
five days in the intensive care unit that included two MRI’s,
two CAT
Scans and a spinal tap before I was released.
I am still meeting with a brain surgeon this coming Thursday for a final
analysis but as far as I am concerned, the verdict is in and what happened to
me on that Sunday morning was nothing short of a miracle. In one startling episode God’s truth was
revealed to me and my eyes were opened.
Nothing was the same, not the people around me or the places I knew. I now understand things that I used to scoff
at and, as my grandson Caden told me on the day I returned home, I know that “Heaven is
Real.”
I am still reeling from the events of the past week and
probably will be for some time to come but I can assure the reader that I have
been led to the Lord in a most extraordinary fashion. I now wonder how I could have possibly
survived my previous existence and the words of Hank Williams ring in my ears
more clearly than they ever have before.
“I wandered so aimless
Life filled with sin.
I couldn’t let my dear savior in
Then Jesus came like a stranger in the night
Praise the Lord I saw the light.”
“I saw the light, I saw the light
No more darkness, no more night
Now I’m so happy no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord, I saw the light.”
