A Church came to my neighborhood
My invitation to salvation was presented to me at Watson Memorial Baptist Church, a church that came to my neighborhood, on my street, and so close I could walk to it.
I knew that I was doing stuff I shouldn’t be doing. Even though I hadn’t read the Bible, I knew that some of my thinking was not good. I knew that I had resentment—for example I resented being responsible for my brothers, for not being able to get straightforward answers to my questions, and for retreating into books and novels to feel better; I knew that I resented wearing clothes that did not fit and were never new; I knew that I wanted to feel better because I cried on the inside all the time; and knew I was just tired and needed relief.
Rev. Edward Bryant preached a sermon that told me that everybody had sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. If I died in my sin I would go to hell. But if I would confess with my mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in my heart that He died and rose again, I would be saved. I did so confess, and Rev. Bryant baptized me. That day, I went down into the watery grave; was buried with Christ through baptism and resurrected to the newness of life in front of other believers. That day my name was written in the Lamb’s Book of Life and I knew I had a right to the tree of life. I also joined the membership of Watson Memorial Baptist Church.
So, third Sunday in August 1965, I received Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour; hoping and believing that He had accepted me just like I was, and that He would listen to me and be my friend. What had been smoldering resentment gradually left me.
I later moved from the Fern Creek area to downtown Louisville. The church that I moved my membership to was First Missionary Baptist Church were Rev. C.D. Simmons was the pastor. It was under the pastorate of Dr. Simmons that I discovered the Holy Scriptures and how to fully connect to God through His Word and the power of the Holy Ghost. Thanks to Miss Henry, I knew how to read and why to read.
I had not been able to get much help in navigating life in general. A drunken or drugged-out parent fosters hopelessness and helplessness in a child and makes the spouse feel stranded and alone, so I did not get much help in navigating life in specifics at home. But one day I read in Matthew 15:21-28 that, even if I’m not born all that special, if I ask Him, He will help me.
To this very day, my theme song, so to speak, is Father, I Stretch My Hand to Thee. And, true to His Word, He hears and helps me. I know that, through His grace, love, and mercy I am special: I’m His child.
“Know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em. Know when to walk away and know when to run,” Kenny Rogers-The Gambler. Why? Discern when it’s sin then flee!
Friends describe me
As having a sense of humor . . . which I don’t . . .
Crocheting and visiting lighthouses
Fantasy dinner guests
The Apostle Peter, George Washington Carver, Bill Federer, and President Donald J. Trump; Perry Mason, Cordell Walker, and Police Chief Wm. O. Gillespie
Best advice I ever received
From my mother-in-law Frances Bullitt, “You’re better off with one piece of real jewelry than a drawer full of costume junk.”
My undergrad alma mater
University of North Carolina at Pembroke
My worst subject in school
In college I drove
1992 Buick Park Ave . . . the same one I drive today
If I weren't a professor, I would
Anything written by A.A. Fair
Any of the mountain cities of North Carolina
Plain-no added flavoring-with half & half
Nobody knows I
Haven’t got a clue what’s going on – or maybe they do and I don’t know it
My latest accomplishment
Surviving coronavirus challenges
Notable differences between motivating and facilitating
← Go back