My Testimony

I am blessed to have been raised by Christian parents. I was baptized when I was five years old, after I told my dad that I wanted to be baptized and serve Jesus. I grew up playing and singing in church. When I got to the upper grades in school, I didn’t have anything in my conscience anchoring me to the Truth, and I did many things not befitting a Christian. All the time, I was ashamed to admit my wrong, because I was still “playing” a Christian as I continued to be a musician in church, and consequently, a hypocrite.

One day when I was a senior in high school, I hit my lowest spot. I had two hundred miles to travel that day—from singing at a marching band competition to attending a family gathering. It was that October day that the ’84 Caravan’s transmission decided to die. As I kept dumping transmission fluid in the leaking system, I realized that the way of a transgressor is, indeed, hard. God had my full attention, and on the final leg home, I finally surrendered the things that weren’t right to the Lord.

A little before then, God sent a brother with a true gift of preaching to be the pastor of the church I had grown up in. We had mostly teachers as I was growing up. God, through his ministry, was hitting all of the major spots in my life that were not pleasing to Him. Then, another brother came and preached on the vocabulary that Bro. Branham used to describe a Holy Ghost experience (some examples: “flop,” “snot,” “bawl,” “squeal,” “a mess”). After hearing that, I realized that I needed the Holy Ghost, and I spent my college years in the Christian walk, constantly listening to tapes in the car and falling asleep countless nights praying for the Holy Ghost.

Sometime during my high school years, I also got to hear Bro. George Smith give his testimony. One thing he said that stood out to me was that when Bro. Branham gave Sis. Rebekah’s hand to him to marry, Bro. Branham told Bro. George to make sure they had both received the Holy Ghost before they got married.

The summer before my fourth year of college, our pastor had a week-long tent revival. He had asked a sister to start a choir, and through this experience, I finally felt free to raise my hands, worship the Lord, without feeling intimidated by whoever might be watching. It was such a blessing to finally be free to worship.

At the last Saturday night of the meetings, Bro. Billy Paul gave his testimony. It was after this service that Sis. Agnes Arnette, the lady that I lived with in college, introduced me to New Daddy. We talked for about five minutes, and something told me that this was the kind of man I could marry. I didn’t hear from him for another three months, and I didn’t try to chase him down. It was hard to wait!

At the end of the revival service Sunday morning, the pastor asked the congregation if there was anyone who would like to give a testimony of what God had done for them during the revival services. I can’t describe how compelled I was to go up there, but I knew if I didn’t go, I would be disobeying God. Something in my heart just nudged me to go, even though I am not one to get up and give testimonies.

So, I walked up there, and said, “I want to thank God for setting me free to worship Him, without worrying about what anyone else thinks.” My voice was hoarse from all of the singing and shouting from the past week. After I said these words, the power of the Holy Ghost swept across the platform, and all across the audience. I tried to walk normally back to my seat, and I suppose I managed it (but now, I kind of wish I hadn’t). I knew that I would never be the same. I am eternally grateful to God for confirming my faith and testimony with His Holy Spirit.

Since then, I’ve learned that the Holy Ghost comes in “baptism after baptism,” and whenever I pray or go to church, I look for God to clean me out and refill me. To me, that is the Christian walk. And, by His grace, that is my testimony of how God has brought me from my sinful birth into the rebirth of His Spirit.