Journey of a Janus 4, a friend calls me back
From where we left off with three....
So for a couple years I did not go to church after I outgrew my Sunday School. I was torn between not learning anything new from my "kid" classes and not being able to stay awake from the "adult" classes in the upstairs chapel. Eventually I just kind of let it rest and figured well...Jesus loves me, I don't don't kill people or rob banks, so I am good enough I don't need church anymore.
For a few years I just kind of existed. Learning nothing new but not rejecting what I had learned (though I hadn't learned as much as I should of.) Bible reading became less and less though due to the monster that every boy and girl eventually faces. That being puberty. Suddenly Jesus and God were not nearly as exciting to me as girls, after school stuff, and basically anything that was all about me. (Yes...did I mention the girls, important you get that I no longer found them icky about eleven years old or so.)
Then I heard rumors that a stranger had pulled come into town. A middle aged fire and brimstone preacher from Missouri had moved into our little town and got a new position as a pastor in the other church in town. He had aspirations of reviving the dead (spiritually) town of Boucanville and he already had his attack plan. He was starting a youth group.
At last God and girls could be experienced in one place on Wednesday night. Not only did we have a lesson but we had a bunch of other preteens and teens in one roof and this guy was going to let us hang out together. I was actually excited about both the God and girls thing pretty equally, most of the guys I knew kind of leaned more towards the lady part.
So Jim Cheffs the kid that sat in front of me in math class let me in on this youth group thing as I casually asked about where everyone was hanging out on Wednesday and stuff. Jim said that he could get me in the door, and that the bus would be around at about 7:00. I was trying to figure out if this was a serious thing or just a party so I kept my questions guarded like I was trying to find a speakeasy.
Well that first week was bad, I missed the bus because I got home late and missed it while I was in the shower. So I got desperate and asked my Grandma if she could give me a lift to the brown church. (Our churches are seperated by color of paint.) You can tell I was desperate because I wouldn't normally want my grandma driving me anywhere in front of the other kids back then.
I eventually did find everyone else, since I found out that everyone was at Pastor Goode's house, and doing a bit of detective work and calling a few trustworthy adults (cough...my scoutmaster, his next door neighbor.) I got there about 10 minutes until 9:00 and I knew I was already about 2 hours too late. His wife let me in and told me they were downstairs, and I never have been able to walk late into a classroom so I sat on the stairs and listened.
I heard about Jesus, the real Jesus for the first time. Not this lamb holding Mr. Buddy that I always thought of him, but as an innocent man (and God) that suffered and died for me and my sins so I could live. It was like meeting him for the first time. I almost cried, but knowing that all those people in the next room would see it, I held it in. I heard Pastor Goode ask if anyone wanted to ask Jesus into their heart and be saved, the room was as silent as a tomb.
I didn't feel brave enough to ask.
Later when we all went home I called Pastor Goode up at house, and hoped I didn't wake up Mrs. Goode. I then asked what I had to do to be saved. After a brief conversation he talked me through the verses and what to say. That night, August 12th, 1989 I became a Christian. (Though the road is far from over, and we will get into that soon enough.)
I got my first "modern" Bible from Pastor Goode a month or so later when he found out that I wanted a Bible that I could actually understand. I started going to his church and learned quite a bit about God, though I was still not learning the trust and forgiveness thing yet. I at least knew who he was without any watering down.
Pastor Goode became, and still is my good friend to this day. We went to breakfasts together and we had great discussions...kudos to Mrs. Goode for letting me borrow her husband so much so he could deal with my little teen problems and big questions that would make Billy Graham want to take aspirin. God had called me to a new friend and kept his promise to me, that he would not leave me, and sent me a teacher.
Things of course got adverse later, because Pastor Goode made the mistake that many small town preachers make, he tried to get people to change their hearts. Apparently in his church he offended Ernest Mckellan, who was the Chairman and chief financial support of the church, and Ernest used his influence to terminate his contract. After that injustice, and losing the minister that brought spirit to that church I stopped attending soon after.
My friend Pastor Goode told me that I had to find a new church for my own grownth sake, and then he had to get a job driving Semi's full time to support his family. So soon I was back on the search again.
So for a couple years I did not go to church after I outgrew my Sunday School. I was torn between not learning anything new from my "kid" classes and not being able to stay awake from the "adult" classes in the upstairs chapel. Eventually I just kind of let it rest and figured well...Jesus loves me, I don't don't kill people or rob banks, so I am good enough I don't need church anymore.
For a few years I just kind of existed. Learning nothing new but not rejecting what I had learned (though I hadn't learned as much as I should of.) Bible reading became less and less though due to the monster that every boy and girl eventually faces. That being puberty. Suddenly Jesus and God were not nearly as exciting to me as girls, after school stuff, and basically anything that was all about me. (Yes...did I mention the girls, important you get that I no longer found them icky about eleven years old or so.)
Then I heard rumors that a stranger had pulled come into town. A middle aged fire and brimstone preacher from Missouri had moved into our little town and got a new position as a pastor in the other church in town. He had aspirations of reviving the dead (spiritually) town of Boucanville and he already had his attack plan. He was starting a youth group.
At last God and girls could be experienced in one place on Wednesday night. Not only did we have a lesson but we had a bunch of other preteens and teens in one roof and this guy was going to let us hang out together. I was actually excited about both the God and girls thing pretty equally, most of the guys I knew kind of leaned more towards the lady part.
So Jim Cheffs the kid that sat in front of me in math class let me in on this youth group thing as I casually asked about where everyone was hanging out on Wednesday and stuff. Jim said that he could get me in the door, and that the bus would be around at about 7:00. I was trying to figure out if this was a serious thing or just a party so I kept my questions guarded like I was trying to find a speakeasy.
Well that first week was bad, I missed the bus because I got home late and missed it while I was in the shower. So I got desperate and asked my Grandma if she could give me a lift to the brown church. (Our churches are seperated by color of paint.) You can tell I was desperate because I wouldn't normally want my grandma driving me anywhere in front of the other kids back then.
I eventually did find everyone else, since I found out that everyone was at Pastor Goode's house, and doing a bit of detective work and calling a few trustworthy adults (cough...my scoutmaster, his next door neighbor.) I got there about 10 minutes until 9:00 and I knew I was already about 2 hours too late. His wife let me in and told me they were downstairs, and I never have been able to walk late into a classroom so I sat on the stairs and listened.
I heard about Jesus, the real Jesus for the first time. Not this lamb holding Mr. Buddy that I always thought of him, but as an innocent man (and God) that suffered and died for me and my sins so I could live. It was like meeting him for the first time. I almost cried, but knowing that all those people in the next room would see it, I held it in. I heard Pastor Goode ask if anyone wanted to ask Jesus into their heart and be saved, the room was as silent as a tomb.
I didn't feel brave enough to ask.
Later when we all went home I called Pastor Goode up at house, and hoped I didn't wake up Mrs. Goode. I then asked what I had to do to be saved. After a brief conversation he talked me through the verses and what to say. That night, August 12th, 1989 I became a Christian. (Though the road is far from over, and we will get into that soon enough.)
I got my first "modern" Bible from Pastor Goode a month or so later when he found out that I wanted a Bible that I could actually understand. I started going to his church and learned quite a bit about God, though I was still not learning the trust and forgiveness thing yet. I at least knew who he was without any watering down.
Pastor Goode became, and still is my good friend to this day. We went to breakfasts together and we had great discussions...kudos to Mrs. Goode for letting me borrow her husband so much so he could deal with my little teen problems and big questions that would make Billy Graham want to take aspirin. God had called me to a new friend and kept his promise to me, that he would not leave me, and sent me a teacher.
Things of course got adverse later, because Pastor Goode made the mistake that many small town preachers make, he tried to get people to change their hearts. Apparently in his church he offended Ernest Mckellan, who was the Chairman and chief financial support of the church, and Ernest used his influence to terminate his contract. After that injustice, and losing the minister that brought spirit to that church I stopped attending soon after.
My friend Pastor Goode told me that I had to find a new church for my own grownth sake, and then he had to get a job driving Semi's full time to support his family. So soon I was back on the search again.
posted by Janus Torrell at 3:48 PM
5 Comments:
Parts of your story sound very familiar to me. But least said, soonest mended. It takes a Goode man to convey the Spirit to thirsting hearts and you found one, Janus.
I think many can relate to some parts not all of them happy memory, but looking back it did shape me in many ways...from the good and the bad.
As for me finding him, I think God moved him into my town for me...at a low point of his career he said sometimes he doesn't know why he is led to some places, but he was glad at least to see that some of the seeds have taken root. I am happy to show him that I am making things right finally.
Pastor Goode sounds like a really good guy. It's a shame that Ernest Mckellan ruined things for him. It's nice that you and Pastor Goode are still friends. :)
Frodo
No pun intended.
Frodo
Well Frodo, It all works out for the best, my friend started his own church eventually (It's a bit far away though.)
Don't worry about the pun, as soon as I came back from work I realized that while it is less pun friendly than his other name, it still was just beggin for it. No offense taken.
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