My testimony of salvation.

It was October 7, 1994, alone at work in my little workshop that God saved me, never having heard the gospel preached. It was only one week prior to that, that a servant of the  Lord came to my door. His name was Paul.  I met him at the door with intent to see him pass on by, not knowing what he wanted.  After exchanging pleasantries, he just said to me, "Do you know your going to hell"

Well, I was a little shocked but more intrgued at his comment then upset.

I said to him, "Come in and we will  discuss the matter."

Once inside, he opened the conversation with some very casual comments about our home and being very pleasant, he quickly snuggled his way into our confidence for the moment.   

We discussed several different issues of the day very lightly but he soon zeroed in on what he was  there for. I have to say I was impressed by his seemingly genuine concern for our souls and his gentleness. He gave me a "Gideon Testament" copy of the Bible and challenged me to read some.  Upon his return we could discuss  it's contents on a more informed level.

Being raised up in a devout Catholic home had instilled in me an awareness of life before an observing God. As a child I was very invovled in my faith and even entertained priesthood. Though the rebellious teenage years quelled any furtherance of those pursuits, I did remain faithful to the teachings I had learned as a child.

My soul trouble had actually commenced several years prior to Paul arriving at my door. It was a time when life was so very busy, I had a new bride and our first child was just born.  Our son Billy was just nine weeks old when he fell desperately ill. I recall the doctors at the London Sick Childrens hospital telling us the prognosis was not good. He had "meningitus"! After spending a long and very frightful day at the hospital, my wife agreed to stay with him through the ordeal and I would return to work and our home. I arrived home at about 3:00 am and was so distraught that I just collapsed to my knee's and prayed as I had never before to a God that I seldomly sought.  

My prayer was for my son's life, unconditionally, "I would give my life to God in exchange for his little life."

I was dead serious. I wept for him and prayed, demanding God hear me and then just hoped with all hope it was enough. In two weeks my son was home with us healthy, happy and absolutely cured. I should tell you that another child that had contracted this terrible disease did not return home to his parents.  There were times we had resigned to lose our son during those two weeks. The doctors actually said it was nothing short of a miracle he should come away unscathed by the side affects that meningitis so often causes.   

In those following months as we enjoyed our child and the return to day to day life.  But I started to realize with greater clarity that God had honoured my pleading request and now I was to do the same.  This troubled  me so much that I realized I am not ready to go to meet God.  My life was so empty of good living that there was no way I would ever warrant a place in heaven.  So I became increasingly agitated in my soul that God required my soul in exchange for my son's and it was only a matter of time before it would happen.  I would start to read the bible and true to my nature, I would go to the end to see what happened.  Well, I read about "dragons and horses with lions heads and ten headed beasts" . This seemed so silly it couldn't be true.  But my knowledge of God, limited as it was, was not shaken. I tried daily prayer and doing good works but to no avail.  I would tire from it and did not get prolonged satisfaction from them.  So life marched on.  

We had three more children in the course of the next four years. All were baptized and went to church together every Sunday. Life was good except for my ever increasing depression of being called on by God for my life and ending up in a burning hell for all time. Purgatory was not an option for me, as I didn't seek confession (reconciliation) regularly. Then, late one afternoon September 30,1994, along came Paul Kember and inside of twenty minutes, I started a new direction in my life with a challenge to read my new Bible.  

Well, the week progressed and each evening I would thumb through the little red bible Paul had left me.  But it was not until the following Saturday that I actually began to read - Matthew, chapter one, verse one. It took maybe five minutes to grow weary of it and to be honest, I was an avid reader. I read everything from service manuals to novels quite regularly. But this was too strenuous for my little brain. I gave up.  It was not till the night before his return that I looked at the little book again. I thought to myself that I should at least read some part of it so as to hold  my own in what I thought was going to be a quiz on my knowledge (head, rather than heart) of the scriptures. I decided I would pick a spot in the book and read for an hour.  

The book opened to John, chapter one. I began to read and read and read. As I was reading I started to fall in love with the main character - JESUS.  How did I miss all this growing up? JESUS - Why did I not know Him before this? JESUS - How come I never mentioned His name in my devotions? My estimation of Christ was that at Easter we had to atone for our sin of nailing God's Son to the cross. We were all guilty of this mortal sin and there was no restitution we could make for it. My God, how did this escape me and my parents and " those" that taught me all those years that had access to my little mind.  I could not put the book down until I had finished the gospel of John.  It was now 2 a.m. and I was weary.  

The following day I was in good spirits and anxious to meet with Paul. I had a couple of jobs planned for the day and was going to leave room for this visit with him. I had so many questions. Well, at about two in the afternoon I was to travel over to the neighbouring village to repair a radio transmitter, but the job was postponed for a couple of hours. I took up the little book and began to read in Acts. I read with enthusiasm till I came to this one little verse; "Niether is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given amongst men whereby we must be saved". I pondered that verse, it had everything in it to convince me. I went back to John chapter 17 and read it again. I then looked at that verse again, "...MUST BE SAVED, NONE OTHER NAME GIVEN, SALVATION UNDER HEAVEN."  I pondered it.  

Praying to the saints as I was taught from childhood was futile.  We must be saved to get to heaven, but how? Then it hit me like a thousand Mack trucks. Purgatory was not necassary or even possible as salvation could only be achieved this side of heaven.  And that was already accomplished, not by me but by the one I came to love, and trust as my savior.  That day, my Lord saved me in my workshop and it will be forever my best story to tell.  I realized shortly afterward that the transaction that commenced several years earlier and that I agonized over continually had now been completed.  God gave me my son and then he Gave me His SON so as to have me. Praise the Lord, oh my soul.  

When you get to heaven, ask Paul Kember what he thought when I told him I was saved and he didn't even have to "pitch it" to me.

Peter Brand