From Death to Life, Part 5: A New Dream

Four weeks after Neil Armstrong made “one giant leap for mankind,” the Woodstock music festival was winding down its last night, and I was attending my third evening service with real people.

Real people, as in genuine, caring individuals who appeared to accept me as someone searching for something I didn’t have, but couldn’t define or explain. Just 17, full of anger, fear, and resentment towards women. A resentment based, in part, on my relationship with my mother, now out of the house. For which I was, at that time, glad.

Pastor Kline led us in a few songs, took the offering, and gave the evening message. To this day I don’t remember one word of what he preached. What I do remember was him doing something at the end of his sermon that he hadn’t done the previous two Sunday evenings: he gave an invitation for anyone wanting to invite Christ into their lives, to raise their hand.

One fear that I had was that if I raised my hand and came forward I didn’t know what people would do to me. My heart was open to God, just not to people I didn’t know.

God’s pretty smart about a lot of things. Actually God is omniscient-all knowing-and knew this about me. I was reluctant to raise my hand because I thought this girl from high school would see it (embarrassing). To this day I have no doubt that an angel helped me to raise my hand, because all of a sudden it was in the air. In the air, with no human assistance.

Instead of having me come forward (whew) Pastor Kline acknowledged the raised hand and said “if that person would come see me after service, I’d like to talk with you.” With service ended I told the family I sat with “I think Pastor Kline wants to talk to me.” 

After everyone had cleared out the pastor and I went into the side room I mentioned in my previous post. Pastor Kline briefly explained that everyone needs to be what Jesus called “born again”, having Christ in their heart. This meant we turn from our old life to receive the new life that God offers through Jesus Christ, His Son. 

Pastor Kline led me in a prayer in which I asked Jesus to come into my life. At a little after 9:00 pm, on Sunday, August 17, 1969, I passed from spiritual death to new life, in Christ, as a child of God. I was the same physically and mentally, but something had happened in my heart. Not the physical one but in my spirit, that now had the very life and nature of God in it. According to 2 Corinthians 5:17 I was a new person in Christ. There was a new me in me.

Natural babies have no past. In the eyes of God, neither does a spiritual baby. God sees new Christians with no past-only a bright future. That’s the life that I entered into, over 50 years ago.

By God’s grace and mercy-and the patient assistance of many people over these 50+ years-I am growing. Am I fully developed, spiritually? No. Am I satisfied with where I am in my walk with God? Again, no. But, in the words of the apostle Paul, “But by the grace of God I am what I am..” (1 Corinthians 15:10.).

Thank you for taking the time to “hear” my story. This is only the beginning of many such stories of God’s workings in people’s lives. This one happened to be mine. I hope you were blessed.

© Hubert Gardner Ministries 2019-2024

From Death to Life, Part 4: New Dream

Attending a new church is one thing; going to an evening service-other than Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve-was, for me, another matter entirely. By myself, not knowing what to expect, I drove across town to a building that appeared to be not much bigger than where I lived with my dad.

I cautiously approached the front, where I was greeted by folks who seemed genuinely glad to see me. So far, so good. To my left were a few classrooms, followed by the all-important bathroom. Inside the small sanctuary were pews, a small platform, and a side room that became significant later on.

I sat with this family who had opened up their home and, more importantly, their hearts to a lost young man. One with no direction. Loving someone who cannot love you back is true love.

The pastor of this church doubled as song leader, accompanied by a woman on the piano. She certainly knew how to play. None of the hymns we sang were familiar. I was used to singing out of a hymnal,-just not the one this church used. Different church. Different people. Different songs. Different, for sure.

I don’t remember the sermon, only that there was no invitation to become a Christian. That was fine with me; I wasn’t ready. The small turnout of around 50 were real people. They seemed to also have what the family I was with had: a genuine interest in me as a person. And no one was trying to get anything from me.

Service over, back to my house. Another week of questions, more questions, and some arguing as my visits continued. Another invitation to attend Sunday service, which I accepted.

The second Sunday evening service was, as I recall, pretty much the same as the first. Same nice people, same hymnal with different songs. Just a different message, with no invitation.

Around this time I asked this now-familiar family for prayer for a job. Young men then-as now- needed their own spending money. A few days later I was hired at a local drug store, a real answer to prayer. This store had a lunch counter and, interesting to me, underground storage bins for overstock. Going below the main floor to store/access merchandise was a space saver-and kind of fun at the same time. To this day I enjoy watching movies with secret passageways and entries.

Getting this job after prayer was an attention getter to someone looking for answers It also caused me to do a better job of managing my time. My part-time income eliminated outside assistance from my Dad.

Being turned down by two colleges meant I was going to the local community college. I could go to school and work part time. With Mom working there I had no tuition, just books. Nice.

Once again I was invited to Sunday evening service with this family. The date was August 17, 1969. Some will remember this date as the last night of some music festival called Woodstock. For me this night was to be beyond anything I had ever dreamed before: A night with a new dream.

I’ll tell you about it in my next post, on August 17th.

© Hubert Gardner Ministries 2019-2024

From Death to Life, Part 3: Searching Questions

Having previously shared about meeting a Christian in high school, the summer after graduation became a time of searching. Searching for something-or someone-to live for. A purpose.

What I was searching for wasn’t in drugs, alcohol, or sex. The effects those things were having on participants-people I personally knew-was reason enough to avoid them, though all were available. Someone, somewhere, was surely praying for me.

One reason to avoid the drugs and alcohol was to be in the best physical condition possible, to live out my dream of being a major-league baseball player. My previous post stated that I didn’t make my high school baseball team because I was a senior, with no experience. Having no meaningful purpose in life, I held onto my dream. A dream that was soon to end.

Seeing a major-league tryout invitation in the paper, I responded by attending, along with dozens of others my age. Baseball is more than running (in which I did well), resulting in me failing the tryout. My dream was ended. Over. What now?

As it was an opportunity to share the love of God with me, I kept getting invited over to this family’s house, nearly every weekday throughout the summer. Despite the father later claiming that I was an atheist, I wasn’t. An atheist denies the existence of God, whereas I certainly believed in God, even to the point of serving as an acolyte for one year in the church I attended. I’m further proof that just going to church doesn’t make one a Christian. Religious? Perhaps. But a Christian? No.

June became July, turning into August, consisting of more visits, more questions about God and the Bible, arguing on my part, and a growing hunger for what this family had. Interestingly, not once did they invite me to church throughout June and July. 

In either late July or early August, I was invited to come to this family’s church, to attend their evening service. I was attending morning services at a denominational church in a nearby city. Agreeing to attend, I prepared for Sunday evening, August 3, 1969.

Having never attended this kind of church, I had no idea what I was getting into. Join me as I come face to face with a group of people with something I didn’t have: love and peace. Not the love and peace being shouted and sung by my generation then. A different kind of love and peace, for sure.

Next: Part 4: New Dream. Enjoy this journey with me.

© Hubert Gardner Ministries 2019-2024

My True Identity

Whether young or old(er), married or single, male or female, everyone's looking for an identity. Everyone is looking to, somehow, identify with a person or organization that provides security. Someone or something to make sense of this life. Beginning at about age 11, I played organized baseball until I was in my late teens. With home life deteriorating my identification with baseball grew into becoming my reason for being. Although fast afoot, fear kept me from trying out for our high school football team my senior year. Basketball tryouts resulted in being cut, as was the case for our baseball team. Failure at basketball was tolerable, but not making the baseball team my senior year: devastating.

To make matters worse Coach Miles took me aside and told me that, if he took me, he'd have me (a senior) for one year. But, taking a junior meant having him for two years. With summer league eligibility expired, my high school playing days were over.

Still worshipping baseball, I attended a major-league tryout camp. Still fast, but, again, not enough of the skills necessary to go further. Another failed attempt at identifying with something capable-or so I thought-of providing meaning, purpose, and security.

Due to the unconditional love shown me by one family, I gave me life to Jesus Christ within days of the tryout. What happened that night of August 17, 1969, put me on the path of a life that I had needed my whole life, but had never been told about.

After a few years of stumbling around, I was introduced to teaching on our identification with Christ. I began to (slowly) find out who I really was-who I am in God's sight. I began to learn about who I am, in Christ, what I have in Him, and what I can do, through Christ. In short, I found my true identity, my purpose for being. Thank God for giving me true identity in Christ, not in temporal things which will eventually pass away.

God and gangs both offer an identity; both are available by choice. One is free and forever; the other costs you more than you're told and results in death-sometimes sooner than later. The second choice is one of force; the first is one of open invitation to all.

My true identity is found in Christ, in how God sees me. Although married with three grown children my identity is in Christ, my reason for being, security, strength, and rock. I still love the game of baseball, but its no longer my identification, for I can live without baseball. Not so with Christ, my Life, Peace: the one in Whom I have my true identity.

Confessing Jesus as Lord, out of a believing heart, and believing in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, will give you an identity that the world can't match.

Where's your true identity? In a gang? Sports? Music? Money? Ministry? Or in Christ?

The Value of Your Testimony

Not every Christian is called to preach from a platform, to children or youth, or on the mission field. Not everyone is gifted to regularly speak in front of groups of people. Every Christian, however, has something so valuable, yet often overlooked: their personal testimony of what God did for them to bring them to a saving knowledge of Christ. Since no two testimonies are alike, what you have to share will vary, in some measure, from what others have to say.

What is a testimony? A testimony is testifying (telling) to what God has done in someone's life. It usually includes sharing how that person came into a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. It can include what God is now doing in that person's life, as well as what differences God has made, since becoming that person's Heavenly Father.

Everyone Christian has a testimony, whether it has ever been shared with someone or not. Everyone who values his/her salvation experience has a testimony worth sharing. Everyone includes you, whether you think it's valuable or not.

What God has done in your life is valuable to God and, hopefully, to you. Jesus paid the ultimate price for your salvation (with His Blood). Now that's something worth sharing.

I was part of the so-called Jesus Movement, that started in the late 1960s. Even though I never killed killed anyone, never spent time in jail (by the grace of God), took drugs, or engaged in premarital sex, I was still a sinner in need of a Savior. Once saved, I got around other Christians, some who had been through some "stuff." While attending a Christian school, I heard numerous students tell of how God delivered them out of this or that lifestyle. What a thrill to see a life redeemed from sin and washed clean for Jesus.

Unfortunately, there was a tendency to "rate" testimonies: the darker the other life, the more glorious the testimony. Delivered from drugs, promiscuity, and satanic worship? Praise God. Been a Christian since as far back as you can remember? That's nice. Ho hum.

Regardless of that former life, your testimony is valuable to more people than you think. Someone is waiting to hear what God has done in your life. Your personal testimony is often more easily related to than many sermons and is, hopefully, shorter.

So, what's your testimony? What has God, through Jesus Christ, done for you? Are you willing, as opportunity arises, to share your (brief) testimony? Then ask God for opportunities, and always be ready to tell what the Lord has done for you.

Sharing your testimony with this ministry might be a way to get started. You can share your testimony with us at: info@hubertgardner.org. I'd certainly like to read yours.