I Hear You

Hey!

I'm still getting emails in response to my last and I'm
still reading and responding to them.

It seems  we have a lot of new people who don't know anything
about me, where I came from, or how I got to be the way I am.

So here's my story.

I've always told people that I felt like I came out of the womb
knowing God, or at least, seeking Him.

In fact, I wrote a letter to God when I was five years old.

It was Christmas.

Something gave me the impression that even though it was supposed
to be Jesus' birthday, no one was really paying much attention
to Jesus.

So I wrote Him a letter to tell Him happy birthday and to let Him
know that I had not forgotten about Him.

I also suggested that He send an angel to retrieve my note, since I
didn't know of any other way to get it properly delivered.

When I got home, I put the letter under the rug in the living room,
figuring the angel would know where to look.

The next day I checked under the rug and behold - the letter was
gone!

I was in awe.

It wasn't until many years later that I found out that my
parents (not Gabriel) had found the letter and put it away for
safekeeping.

My parents didn't go to church, but I would read my
grandmother's Bible, and she took me to Sunday School each
week.

I was eight years old on September 1, 1979, when my Sunday School
teacher gave me my first Bible.

In the front of the Bible my teacher had handwritten this verse:

"I have called you by name, you are mine" (Isaiah 43:1b).

I felt as if God was talking to me, calling me, and saying,
"Hey Chip, you belong to Me!"

Could it be?

I had read where it happened to Samuel when he was a little kid.

David had this special relationship with God as a boy.

Why not me?

And so, not long after that, I snuck away to the little prayer
chapel there in the church to have a quick talk with God.

I remember entering the room as if I were entering the Holy of
Holies.

I got down on my knees and I asked Jesus to be the Savior and Lord
of my life, promising to do whatever He wanted me to do.

No one led me in a prayer; He had called me, and I had accepted,
simple as that.

That's kind of a big deal for an 8-year-old kid.

Then I went outside to play.

When I was 12 years old, we were living in an apartment complex in
Rocky Mount, North Carolina.

One day there was a knock on our door.

It was our neighbor, Kathy (she was friends with my mother).

So we answer the door, and there was Kathy, with this ridiculous
smile on her face, crying and shouting: "I'm healed!
I'm healed!"

From what I could make out, something weird had happened.

Kathy had been cooking in the kitchen and had spilled a pan full of
hot grease, badly burning her arm.

She had wrapped her arm with a towel and prayed, and when she
removed the towel, she was completely healed.

That REALLY freaked my mother out.

And now Kathy wanted my mother to go with her to this new church.

I overheard my parents talking and they concluded that Kathy had
become brainwashed by a cult. My mother decided she would go check
it out.

Of course, it wasn't a cult at all - it was just a group of
Charismatic Christians who believed in the baptism in the Holy
Spirit, speaking in tongues, clapping your hands, healing, and a
lot of other stuff that we Methodists had never been exposed to.

Soon my mother was going to church regularly and (wouldn't you
know it?) one night she came home speaking in tongues and praising
God!

I knew my mother - and even as a 12-year-old-boy I knew that
whatever this was, it was the real thing.

It was a GOD thing.

Eventually my mother dragged my father to church and he "saw
the Light" as well -another transformation with "speaking
in tongues."

I thought WOW.

Over the summer I went to a few services and really liked it.

Turns out it wasn't really a "church" like I was used
to - they were meeting on the second floor of the YMCA.

I was fascinated by the worship, the preaching, and especially the
way people exercised spiritual gifts - tongues, prophecy, healing,
etc.

But the biggest thing that impressed me was the JOY.

Man, those people were happy!

One Sunday evening in August, 1983, our family joined the church -
and my destiny changed.

What usually happened is you would go forward during the service,
the pastor would announce your joining, and then he would lay hands
on you and pray for you, receiving you into the fellowship.

So there we were - my father, mother, younger brother, and younger
sister - lined up across the front of the church, and the pastor
was laying hands on each of us and praying over us.

I started shaking.

It was embarrassing!

I thought, "Why am I shaking? I'm not afraid."

I tried to make myself stop shaking but I couldn't.

When the pastor got to me, I had my eyes closed.

He paused in front of me and didn't say anything, and I
wondered, "What's taking so long?"

But I didn't open my eyes.

Then I heard him say, "The Spirit of God is all over this
boy!"

(He sounded a little bit amazed.)

I certainly wasn't expecting THAT, and I sure didn't plan
on what happened next...

The pastor touched my head, and before he could say anything, I was
GONE.

I mean, I wasn't sure where I went; but I was glad I went.

It was like I had left the earth and had been transported to heaven.

The biggest thing was the JOY.

And right along with that came an incredible PEACE and a powerful
PRESENCE that seemed to be rising up from within me.

And LOVE.

I felt one with God.

I cried with the joy, completely unaware of anyone or anything else.

This went on for a long time, and when I opened my eyes, I was
lying flat on my back on the floor.

How did I get there?

I became aware of people around me, praying and praising God.

And when I opened my mouth to say something, I was speaking a
language I had never learned and didn't know.

I lay there on the floor for a long time, just crying and praising
God.

If that was all there was to the story that would be enough.

But there are a couple of other things that converged on that night
to shape my destiny.

This cute little 12 year-old-girl was sitting on the back row of
the church; I had turned around once and caught her staring at me.

Now she was watching everything going on with me up at the front of
the church.

That little girl's name was Karla.

A few years later she told me that God spoke to her that night and
said, "You're going to marry that boy!"

Isn't that cool?

(Plus, she thought I was cute too, which helps.)

But that night I wasn't thinking about girls or anything else.

I was thinking about this incredible new life I had just
discovered, and I wanted to just STAY where I was forever.

I KNEW God was real.

People tickle me when they debate whether or not
"tongues" (or anything else) is "for today."

But the man with an experience beats the man with an argument every
single time.

I don't know what you think, but I know what I experienced.

But that's not even the most important thing.

The question is: do you still have the JOY of your salvation?

If not, I know what happened to you, because the same thing
happened to me...

Life happened.

Bad stuff happened.

You grew up and got too busy with "real life problems."

Or, you got too religious and become a grumpy old sourpuss.

If that's the case, drop whatever it is you're doing, go
back to the beginning, and get in touch with that JOY again.

Because the JOY of the Lord is your strength!

Just as God's Grace is bigger than Your Sin, God's Joy is
bigger than Your Situation.

Don't ask me to explain it, because I can't.

But I know it when I see it.

Oh yeah... I said TWO other things happened that night.

But this email is already long enough, so I'll save the third
thing for later.

Make the rest of your day special!


I am your brother,


Chip Brogden
http://TheSchoolOfChrist.Org


PO Box 552, Canandaigua, NY 14424, USA