What would it take...Part 2

Okay, so I've posted my testimony and what God did for me, but you are saying to yourself, "I'm not convinced." Okay, I have another story for you. I was stationed in Alamogordo NM after my return from the first Gulf War where I had just spent a 7 month tour of duty. I had recently been saved as you learned in my last posting. That being said, I'd like to tell you a story about a man that was stationed with us to fill the gaps for others that were still in Iraq fighting. His name was Bruce, and he was an Air Force Reservist. Before that he was an active duty marine. Bruce was as rough a character as one could encounter, every other word out of his mouth was "F" this and "F" that, he was a marine to his core. Each day he would come into the shop barking orders and telling the younger kids to drop and give him 50 push ups each time they didn't get the work done to his liking. The younger guys feared him and would try everything they could to stay out of his way. 


One day he asked me if I knew of any good fishing holes in the area to which I had to say, "No." I had not been fishing in years, but I saw this as an opportunity to get to know him a little bit better and see I could lead him to the Lord and thus began our friendship. I told him that I knew there were some lakes in the mountains nearby and we could give them a try as I do like to fish and had wanted to go for many years. The next Saturday we made plans to leave early in the morning and head to a reservoir about 30 miles away in Ruidoso, NM. That morning came early, I hate mornings by the way, none the less, I wanted to keep my promise to him. So we headed out with poles and bait in tow. As we drove, we did what all guys do and stared out the window and didn't say more than 10 words to each other, except to say, turn here or there. We arrived at the reservoir around 6 am, just in time for the sun to break over the horizon and reveal a beautiful lake nestled in a lush pinon pine forest. The heat of the sun was warming the water causing a thin fog to hover just above the lake. It was so calm and peaceful. We baited up the gear and dropped the hooks in the water. It wasn't but a few minutes and it was fish on, we were pulling up 1 to 2 pound rainbow trout and that is no fish story.



The first day went pretty fast as we hit our limit of fish in about an hour and there wasn't much time to talk. On our way back to the truck we made plans to have a fish fry that night as he hadn't had a good home cooked meal since arriving on station a few months back. I was all up for a fish fry, seeing the catch was fresh and ready to be eaten. When we got back into town he went to the dorms to clean up and I to my house. We decided to meet around 5 and start cleaning and cooking the fish. The evening was very enjoyable sitting around eating fresh mountain trout and telling war stories. This is where things started to open up. He told me about the 20 years he had spent in the marine corp and his 3 tours in Vietnam. He was in the Long-Range Reconnaissance Patrol (LURP). It was his job to go deep behind enemy lines and scout out the enemy and kill them when necessary. That is when he started to shut down a bit. I asked him the dumb question, "Had he killed anyone." It wasn't that he had, but how many. I left it at that for now as I could tell he was getting a little uneasy about talking about this stuff. Though I had been in a war, I had never killed anyone. I could sort of relate to him, but not really.



That pretty much ended the first fishing trip. We scheduled another trip for the following weekend. This went on for several months. During our trips we started talking more and I began to learn a lot about Bruce. He was married, never had children (another story) and lived in Texas. He was hard from all the years of battle and life, but he did have a humorous side. Because of the metal plate in his head from a hand grenade attack he hated storms because he felt like a lightning rod. Every now and then he would stick a magnet to his head, it was quite a funny sight. Our friendship grew and he began to talk more openly of the battles he had been in and countless men he had killed. I asked him if he knew how many he had killed and he said he couldn't recall because there were too many. He talked of how he hadn't had a decent nights sleep since the war, as nightmares of his exploits haunted his subconscious mind and invaded his dreams, each face passing before him as if to remind him of his evil deeds. Looking into his eyes it was easy to see he wasn't stretching the truth. When I asked him how close he was when he took their lives, he replied, "I could hear their last dying breath and feel their body as it went lifeless in my hands." By now we had become good friends and it tore at me to see him in such pain. All I knew is there was one person that could remove this weight he carried around with him. That was my Savior Jesus Christ. So I prayed each night for God to allow me to reach him, to get through all the hardness and pain and show him the Savior.

Each trip we took brought us past the church where I was saved and was attending each Sunday. I would invite him to come and he would give the usual response, "The roof would cave in if he where to go to church." I would laugh and keep asking. Then one trip he surprised me and said, "Yes, he would like to come." Once I regained my senses I said, "I'd pick him up the following Sunday morning for services." Sunday arrived and I picked him up from the barracks and we headed for the church, he was as nervous and girl on prom night. I told him, "He didn't have to worry about the ceiling falling in, I'd only read of that happening once in the Bible, so I think he would be safe." He didn't see the humor in what I had said.



Here is were the story gets interesting, as you know God works in mysterious ways and this day God was going to reveal Himself as the loving, compassionate and caring father that he is. Services began as usually with one twist. Our Pastor had called a missionary to come and speak to the church. I don't remember his name, but it doesn't matter now, what happened next does. The missionary stepped up to the pulpit and introduced himself. He said a few things and then began to tell us his testimony. He was a former marine and had fought two tours in Vietnam, yes, you guessed it, as a LURP. He talked of how he had killed men as they slept around a fire. How their lifeless bodies lay around the fire as he slipped off into the night. How he couldn't sleep because of the nightmares and their face were always in his thoughts. It was at this point I felt the hairs of my neck stand up on end like a cat ready to pounce. I looked over at Bruce and he was sitting straight up, both hands gripping the pew as if he were face to face with God himself. 


The missionary preached about salvation and forgiveness and that it was for everyone no matter their sins or past. He said, "If God could forgive his sins, he could forgive anyone." With that, he closed the service and gave an invitation. I was praying like I had never prayed before. That Bruce would walk the aisle and get saved. The invitation closed without him heading forward, I was heartbroken. What would convince him now that God would forgive him? We headed back to the barracks when he asked me, "Do you think God can forgive me?" I said, "Absolutely he could and he would." Bruce asked if we could go to the service that night as well. At this point I knew God was working on his heart. I picked him up and we went to that night's service. The missionary was there and gave his testimony once again. He preached another wonderful sermon on God's grace and mercy, but most of all his forgiveness. The service closed with the invitation which I was sure Bruce would answer. To my surprise, he didn't go forward. I was stumped. I asked God what was it going to take to reach him. I headed for the door not noticing that Bruce was not behind me. I turned and look to see him standing next to the Pastor's office door. I walked over to him and asked him what he waiting for, he said, "I need to talk to that missionary before he leaves." I didn't waste another second and ran off to fetch the missionary. 


With the three of us in the Pastor's office, Bruce began to speak to the missionary of his past and what he had done. They sounded like they were friends from a former life. The missionary knew exactly what Bruce was going through and how God could lift the weight that was hanging around his neck. I remember to this day the missionary asking Bruce if he wanted to have a good nights sleep. Why would he say that? Bruce had not told him of his nightmares and being unable to get a decent night rest. Bruce answered, "Yes." At that moment the missionary and Bruce bowed their heads and Bruce cried out to God, "Forgive me Father", and broke down crying like I'd never seen a man cry. You could feel the chains of sin fall from his life. It was hard to imagine this was the same Bruce that barked orders and cursed like a sailor every waking moment of his life just sitting there sobbing. God had truly performed a miracle that night. No, it wasn't like the parting of the Red Sea or the ten plagues of Egypt, it was bigger. It was God bringing one of his lost sheep back into the fold. The next day Bruce walked into the office and said to everyone in the day room, "You know what happened to me last night, I got saved." Everyone in the room just looked at me. Bruce never said another bad word as long as he was stationed with us and he was as tame as a baby lamb. Everyone blamed me, but I know who it really was.



So, I say to you reader. What would it take for you believe? Are you a Bruce? Have you done things in your life that you are not proud of? Do they even compare to Bruce's? If God could save him, I know he can save you. I will pray for you whomever you are and where ever you are, that you will find this blog and God will change your life.



There is always hope.....

What would it take.........?

For some time I've been thinking about what it would take to convince the average person that Jesus exists and that what is said in the Bible is true. For years I've been a witness to the gospel, as my family can attest too. I've driven my brother over the edge many a time and my father and I have had many a lively discussion; all of which I loved by the way. That aside, I've been troubled as to the amount of resistance that I have encountered when I bring up the things of God and try to show others the truth of the scriptures. So, I have been praying and asking God for guidance in this matter. 


Thus my question, "What would it take for you to believe?" Is it such a difficult question, I don't think so? Though I do remember my own reservations in trusting things said to me by other would be Christians. The hypocrisy I had witnessed growing up, how one could live like the devil all week long then confess my sins to someone as guilty as I, only to rinse and repeat. There was never, as far as I could see, any real change in who I was or how I acted, or them for that matter. 


I then wondered along through life trying to figure it all out on my own. It wasn't until I found, or should I say, when Jesus found me, that the truth was finally revealed to me. The scriptures are right when they say, "The truth shall set you free." On January 31st, 1991, I was born again in a small Baptist church outside Alamogordo, New Mexico. I will never forget the day or the feelings I had as long as I live. I think my parents and all who know me will agree it was a life changing experience. 


What was it that convinced me to come to Jesus, you ask? What turned the tide in my life and my quest for the truth. Well it was God for sure. Why God, you ask? Well, I remember walking into this small church with a chip on my shoulders the size of a redwood and I was drawing a line in the sand with God. All my life I had been told by my religion that Baptists where evil and misguided folks and not to be trusted. So I said as I sat in the pews, "God if you want me to be a Baptist you better show me why." 


To this day I still cringe at what I had said and to whom I had said it. But of a sincere heart I wanted to know, I longed for the truth. It was at that moment that God looked down from Heaven and with a hand of love lead me on this adventure that now is my life. As you will see, the Pastor got up in his pulpit and said that he was awakened early in the morning and could not get back to sleep and was troubled about the Sunday School lesson he had prepared. He said, "I prayed for a while and then headed over to the parsonage to look over my notes one last time." 


It was at that moment that the Holy Spirit spoke to his heart and said, "You need to review the 50 scriptural reasons why we are Baptists." He said he struggled with the Spirit's leading, as the small church he pastored was a flock of born again Baptist believers. What possible good would a lesson on the where's and why's of salvation and being a Baptist be to them. None the less he gave into the Spirit's leading and embarked on a four week study through the scriptures on why they are Baptists. 


Remember folks, I had never set foot in that church before this day. I had passed it many times dropping my step children off at school, but never had I entered. This pastor didn't know me from Adam. So, there I sat, dumbfounded at what the pastor had just said. I could feel the weighty finger of God sticking right in my chest. I guess it was God's play on the game of truth or dare. I listened to every word that came from the preachers mouth as I feed on this new found knowledge. Soon, the time had come for their usual invitation to be saved. I resisted, no way was I going to walk up in front of all these people and embarrass myself, uh uh, NO WAY! 


Four weeks this went on, until the last Sunday of the series when the pastor gave a summon on Hell. It was God's coup de grace, for there I sat filled with the truth and left to make my own decision. Was this all a bunch of bunk, or was it God giving me a chance at a new life. Well folks, the invitation came and I was on my way to the front of the church to ask God for his forgiveness before I knew what I was doing. My legs pretty much said to the rest of my body, "We are going for it." The rest is history so to speak.


So now I ask you, "What would it take for you to believe?" Would it take fire coming from the sky? Handwriting on the wall? A spirit or an angel to stand before you and proclaim God's grace? Seriously, what would it take? Well, it is my hope that through the pages of this blog I might be able to, with the help of God's grace to peel back the veil of your mind and show you the same truth that has set me free. I hope you will come back and listen as the tale unfolds as I believe my friends, there isn't much time, the hour is at hand.

My second ramble...

Yes, folks this is me, a more robust me, but me none the less. Just testing out the publishing of my new blog to my new Facebook account. Soon you will all be treated to the vain ramblings of my musing mind. Hope you all come back for more. Who knows, maybe this will be the start of something great.

See you soon......

So it begins...

The first ramblings from the mind of Randy. As time goes on who knows what will manifest itself on these pages. Guess you will just have to come back and see....