CHAPTER 2 BORN AGAIN AGAIN

I got born again beside my bed after just getting done throwing up, after being beaten up, which led me to look up. My life had steadily spun downward until this point. I had been laid off for over a year from working on the railroad. A relationship, in which I was engaged, was heading nowhere. The only good thing happening in my life was a part time janitor’s job working at the local Catholic Church.

My brother got married and started a family while he was still very young. I was a young uncle and I loved spending time with my nieces. I would take them to the zoo and other outings. As a young adult I enjoyed playing with young children. They seemed to really enjoy me too. I am embarrassed to say that I lived with my parents until I was twenty-eight years old. During that time neighborhood children would come knocking at my mom’s door asking if I could play in the yard with them. I guess they saw me as a big brother or maybe a fatherly figure.

Immediately after I prayed to receive Christ I got a stirring to leave home. It was about time! I would still go out with friends and drink but something had changed, it was not fun like it used to be. I felt guilt while sitting at the bars. I sold my hunting rifles and had just enough money to drive to Virginia to start a new life. I packed what little I had into my van and off I went. I was staying at a campground in Virginia Beach. I almost headed back to Pennsylvania when I was filling out a job application and realized that I had no address or phone number to put on the application. It was then that I remembered a friend from high school who was living nearby in Norfolk, Virginia. I called him and told him of my situation. He said I could use his couch until I could secure a job and another place to stay.

One of the priests from the Catholic Church in Pennsylvania referred me to his uncle who had a management position at the Newport News Shipbuilding Company. I met him at his house to fill out the application and within a week I had a job at the Shipyard!

During my time working at the Catholic Church I converted to Catholicism. I did this for two reasons. First, the girl I was engaged to was Catholic. Second, I was feeling a need to know God and the influence of the Capuchin Priests made it a logical choice to convert. They were so kind to me even when I showed up to work hung over. I did not know then what “Charismatic” meant but I now realized that they were “Charismatic Catholics.”

I started attending a Catholic Church in Newport News, Virginia. I had developed many Catholic friends in Pennsylvania and had good fellowship with them. I tried to find the same kind of relationships in Virginia but it was not the same. Western Pennsylvania was predominantly Catholic while Virginia was predominantly Southern Baptist and Pentecostal. The Catholic Church I was attending was not as alive and welcoming as what I had found in Pennsylvania. I was lonely and trying to find Godly friends. The relationship I was in was rocky before I left and trying to keep it going four hundred miles away was not working.

My so-called fiancé in Pennsylvania had left the Catholic church and said she was now “born again” and attending a Christian Assembly Church. This was huge as she was a born and raised Italian Catholic. That just does not happen! When she told me this there was a peace in her spirit that had never been there before. Her dad died of cancer and she was bitter with God until now. Although she was definitely changed by this new experience I thought I was comfortable staying a Catholic.

After about a year I got a realtor’s license. I worked at it part time while working full time at the shipyard. The shipyard was good steady work but the recession was ending and the strong military population in Southwest Virginia made the real estate business start to increase. Being tired from working two jobs I woke up late one Sunday morning and rushed off to attend Catholic mass. On my way to mass I passed a church called Warwick Assembly of God. The word “Assembly” caught my attention. I thought about the new church my fiancé was attending. I was late for mass so I turned around and decided to see what she was in to.

There was a man at the door with a huge smile greeting people as they entered. He extended his hand to me and with a strong southern accent he said “Welcome Brother!” My defensive response was, “I am a Catholic!”
“Never mind, we love Catholics around here.” He exclaimed as he ushered me in and introduced me to the elderly pastor and his wife. They were just as nice as he. What a sweet old couple. The pastor’s wife tried to help me find a seat up front but I quickly took the back seat by the door so I could escape as soon as they would leave me alone.

I said earlier that I had no idea what “Charismatic” meant and I sure did not know what “Pentecostal” was about! For some reason I did not leave. Everything on the outside wanted to but everything on the inside said “stay.. The music started and they clapped with the music. Some of them had their hands raised high in the air and were waving them. The music did not stop but the singing did and they in confusion. When the music did stop one man started shouting like he was the preacher and said, “Thus sayeth the Lord!” I felt like I wanted to get out that door but something or somebody kept me there. This was all kind of strange but I was not afraid. I sensed goodness through all of this confusion. The preacher finally did preach and he sure was a lot longer than the priest’s homilies. Yet it was interesting. At the end he asked everyone to bow their heads and close their eyes. The next thing I knew he was talking to me and about me in front of all those people. Before I knew it, I was standing up front with him, crying my eyes out and praying a prayer with him.

Looking back I know that I asked Jesus in my heart beside my bed in Pennsylvania. The Catholics did not teach about being “born again” so I like to say that in that little Assembly of God church I got born again again.

CHAPTER 1 "WHAT IF?"

Our family attended the local Methodist church in our small town in western Pennsylvania. We attended regularly until I was ten years old. My parents would go the adult service and my brother, sister and I would go to the Sunday school. I remember my class being incredibly boring! I was a kid who loved to be active and play outside. I did well in public school but I dreaded going to Sunday school.

The Sunday school teacher for my class was the typical teacher of that time. She was probably in her late fifties. She had grey hair that was always in a little bun. She always had a sweater and a long skirt on. Later when I went to Junior High School I was surprised to find out she was our school librarian. I remember her being very nice, probably too nice. The other boys in the class were very mischievous and noisy but she never seemed to get too upset with them. In fact the class was always out of order and the boys made fun of her constantly.

The class was in a multi-purpose area of the church. The rooms were separated by a folding partition that was not sound proof. You could hear all the other classes going on at the same time. Some classes were singing, some were reciting Bible verses and to me it all sounded very confusing. There was an old piano in our section and the teacher would play while she tried to lead us in songs from the adult hymnal. The room was obviously used for other classes and purposes so there was nothing on the painted block walls. I remember even the color of the paint was boring. It was pale and faded green. We did have a window in our class that looked out to the main street of the town. The cars going by was the main thing that kept any of my interest.

The teacher taught from a Sunday school manual. She read directly from the manual and she seemed to follow it exactly. She would have the students read from the King James Version of the Bible. Many of kids read poorly and did even worse with all the “Thee’s and Thou’s .” I remember it being so grueling as each child had to read a section. Afterwards she would ask questions.

Some of the stories did catch my attention but it was not due to any creative ways of teaching or dramatic flare as the other children read. I liked the stories and I felt something special or holy as we read them, especially the ones about Jesus. At the same time it was still very boring to me.

I remember complaining each Sunday morning as my parents would get us out of bed to get ready for church. Obviously, my brother was having the same experience as me. He also complained and being older his complaints were a little louder. My sister was four years younger and I cannot remember if she complained or not? I think she went to church with my parents each week. I am not sure if it was our complaining or if it was the pastor visiting our home and offending my dad by asking for a donation for the building fund, but one day we just quit going to church.

At fifteen years old I stole some of my father’s liquor. I joined some friends who did the same. We gathered down by the creek near our house. I got drunk for the first time. We had fun and we thought we were very cool that we accomplished this without getting caught.

This was the beginning of a young life that was very lost until I found the Lord at twenty-eight years old. I became an alcoholic. For the next thirteen years I was an alcoholic and a drunk. If I had one drink or one beer it always led to more. I started smoking pot very heavily at sixteen years old. I dabbled with some narcotics but mostly it was pot, beer and liquor. I drove many miles while stone drunk. Thank God I did not kill anyone or even myself. At twenty-eight years old I hit bottom. I had quit the drugs but I was a full-fledged alcoholic. I was in a bad relationship. A recession had hit the USA and I was unemployed. It was the mercy of God that got me a part time job as a janitor in a Catholic church. It was there that some kind Capuchin priests befriended me and started to point me to a relationship with Jesus that saved my soul and saved my life.

The big “What if?” What if the nice but boring Sunday school teacher had made a little extra effort to make the class interesting to a bunch of ten year olds. Maybe if the room was more welcoming with some fun pictures or colorful posters. This was the mid sixties so I am sure there had to be some good Sunday school curriculum with visuals. What if we sang some kidsy type Sunday school songs instead of singing out of an adult hymnal? What if we read out of a Bible that was easier to read and understand than the King James Version?

Would have I enjoyed it enough to not complain to my parents every Sunday morning? Did those complaints help my dad make the decision to quit taking us to church?

I do not blame the Sunday school teacher for my lost years. Perhaps I would have complained even if it were fun and interesting. Nobody is to blame for my sinful life but me. I am not a victim and the only thing I can say is thank God that He rescued me and saved me before it was too late.

There is that possibility that if the classes were relevant, fun and interesting that maybe my brother and I would have begged our parents to keep going to church. Perhaps my teenage years and into my twenties might have been different.

This is the reason I have been involved in children’s ministry for over twenty years. This is the reason I am so passionate to develop children’s ministries that are fun, exciting, relevant and a place where they will meet and know Jesus, my Savior.

My mission is to help churches develop a children’s church that the kids run to and bring their friends to because it is everything but boring. Kids church and Sunday school should be one of the most exciting times in a child’s week. My hope is that my efforts to develop this kind of ministry for children has preserved many a children from going through the lost years that I experienced.

I hope that my efforts to make Sunday morning children’s church and Sunday school a place where kids want to be has preserved many a child from living the lost years that I went through. Perhaps by striving to make that hour on Sunday morning special that lives have been changed and saved.

I hope as you read this book you catch my passion. There will be some practical applications that you can learn and duplicate but mostly I hope that you understand the “Why” of what I try to do. Someone once said if you know the “Why” you figure out the “How”.

Today’s world is full of things that will capture the attention of the children. We will never compete with video games and media, but with some extra effort and sincere care we can communicate the love of Jesus in ways that are relevant to the way children receive and learn.

It Doesn't Take Much

During the 1990's I visited five times and ministered at the Mendies Haven Children's Home in Nepal. The home was founded by "Mummy" Elizabeth Mendies. Mummy was an awesome woman of God from Canada. She went on to be with Jesus this past fall at ninety years old. She took in children for over forty years and raised hundreds of children during that time. The home is still operating and you can visit the website at www.mendieshaven.org.

Twenty-two wonderful children were being raised at the home during our visits. The children had devotion time every morning and evening. We would join them during our visits and teach the children fun songs about Jesus. They loved the songs! We also taught Bible stories in our usual fun and relevant ways. It did not seem like much at the time, but it was fun and the children were loving.

This past Saturday I was able to get with two of the boys from the home, Rajaram and Krisna, in Washington D.C. They were brought to the States to visit supporters of the home, complete internships with Christian politicians and learn leadership skills to take back to Nepal. The boys were now young men at twenty-five and twenty-four years old. It was so awesome to be with them again and hear about their lives and the lives of the other children from the home. I was overjoyed to hear that twenty of the children were now serving the Lord. The other two they were not sure of as they had lost touch with them.

Rajaram and Krisna sang all the songs that we had taught them. I was amazed that they remembered them! They excitedly shared that the reason they were Christians and walking with Jesus today is because of our devotion times with them. They shared how many people visited but we were some of the only ones that spent the time sharing Jesus with them in ways kids like to learn.

I was overwhelmed with emotion. I told the boys that I was so happy to have a small part in where they were. They objected and said "No Ka Ka B (Uncle B, my title in Nepal), It is because of you and the teams that you brought that helped us follow Jesus!"

I continually pray for lasting fruit from our ministry. I look back and it really did not take much to impact twenty-two of most wonderful kids I ever met!