08/04/2024
I Am But A Pilgrim (Post #3)
In this essay, I speak only for myself and the discoveries —I would like to say ”that I have found along the way”, but in reality, I will speak concerning the discoveries — that found me.
I was born into a Christian culture whose church craft included an altar call at the end of every sermon. I cannot remember missing not one call to the altar. Those repeated walks down the aisle to the prayer bench of that country church was the beginning of my personal life’s journey. Again, even then it was He who found me, not I that found Him. He was not lost—I was.
I seem to have been born knowing that I needed, more correctly: wanted God in my life in a very real way. I have often pondered: From where did this “want of God” come? Finally, in a winter revival meeting at my home church in 1963 I was baptized and filled with the Holy Spirit.
From the moment of Holy Spirit infilling, a burden of the Word of God lay heavy upon my heart. I shared this with my pastor. The next Sunday, Pastor O. T. Cottrell came to my Sunday school class room and announced, “I am placing Jerry in my Bible class from this time forward”. I, then, walked behind my pastor out of the junior class into an association with the Pentecostal ministry. From that day I was my pastor’s shadow, accompanying him to conferences and minister’s meetings, etc.; I was his adjutant. The congregation ordained me as a junior deacon at age 16; then at age 18 I was ordained into the ministry by the laying on of the hands of over 20 pastors.
At age 18 I left my secluded rural community and embarked upon the journey of a full-time evangelist. The churches opened up to the style of preaching that God had blessed me with. The UPCI, ALJC, and PAW all welcomed me into their pulpits.
In those early days it was customary for the visiting minister to live with the pastor and his family during the duration of the meeting. Consequently, the Lord gave me access to the most spiritual and intellectual minds in the Pentecostal movement at the time. Most every night after the service the conversation between myself and the pastor (often the church elders were included) would go on deep into the morning hours. This was an education that no college or seminary classroom could possibly provide.
Read the complete essay at the link provided here:
We are travelers, you and I. Our journey will never end where it began. It is what we discover along that journey about ourselves and our G...