|
|
CUPS OF COFFEE - A Young Boys Walk with the Lord by Gene Shrout Well dear friends in the last issue I told you about that marvelous night when the lord's loving grace cleansed my heart and history of all sin…how His Spirit was bubbling throughout my soul during that two mile walk home with my mother and sister. I wish that I could tell you about the victorious walk I experienced with my Lord from that night on…but I can not...it was not so victorious. That first Monday morning brought me face to face with all the old conflicts and deceptions I had going at school…face to face with opportunities (but not the courage) to be a witness among my schoolmates. The Lord had cleansed me of sin but I couldn't see that my ability to live a 'Christian life' had improved one iota! School in those days was an old two-room brick building north of Jonesboro, Indiana. It was situated on the south side of the old Kokomo road. A long stone's throw behind the school property and down a lover's lane was a deep hollow. A picturesque babbling creek meandered through the hollow, and at the right time of day and year you could hear the croaking of frogs…I guess that's why they fondly referred to the school as 'Old Frog College'. There was a footbridge across the creek. If you crossed the bridge and walked up a hill, out of the hollow, you would find where the town limits of Jonesboro began. Some of my classmates lived in that group of houses that surrounded the old rubber tire factory there on the edge of town. But most of them lived in scattered homes and small farms in the area north of Jonesboro. There were four grades in each room of that old school building. I was in the sixth grade (though only ten) and in the 'Big Room'. This room facilitated grades 5-8 while the 'Little Room' contained grades 1-4. Interestingly enough, the rooms were the same size with similar arrangements and furnishings. There were six rows of desks as I remember and a huge smoke puffing stove in each room. Obviously, the title 'Big Room' came from the size of the kids. Mr. and Mrs. Shugart were our teachers. Mr. Shugart was the principle and teacher of grades 5-8. Mr. Shugart also did all the spankings. Some of the eighth grade boys were sixteen and planning to drop out of school after completing the eighth grade. Spankings took place in front of the entire assembly of the older kids in the Big Room. I shall never forget Mr. Shugart's decision that one of the sixteen-year-olds was to receive a spanking and the battle that ensued after his announcement. It was a wrestling match as George resisted. He even took some swings at Mr. Shugart but none of the punches landed. The contest ended with George being forced to bend over the teacher's desk and spanked with the big paddle. As I recall, George left and never returned to school. This was a tough school. There were wrestling type fights between the boys every recess and lunch time. Now I was a teller of tales in those days and very competitive in all things (except spelling). It seemed to me that I was a favorite target for the bigger boys who had a yen to push somebody's face in the dirt and make them say, "uncle". Of course, I would never concede to saying, "uncle". Old habits were hard to break and I just couldn't figure out how to retrench from my old ways without losing face among my competitive peers. How do you share about the experience of salvation with these tough kids. Some of the boys in my class, such as Joe Campbell and Pug McCoy, were three and four years older than I. The subject of Sunday school and church never came up in any of the conversations. I was, in many ways, a shy kid; my wonderful salvation experience and I just faded into the shadows. My life had changed. My soul rejoiced in my relationship with God and Jesus Christ. But I really had become two people. One person at home and church where I was a gratefully redeemed kid participating in all the Sunday school and church events. Yet, another person at school where amongst my schoolmates I was shyer and more withdrawn, but still portrayed toughness and gave no hint of a Christian walk. I still told those far fetched braggart tales, I still participated in those tangled webs of school boy conflicts, and I still could not resist the temptation to do whatever it took to save face among those rowdy school boy friends. In my school world I was an unhappy failure as a Christian…while at the same time less of a leader among my tough boyhood buddies. In my church world…my soul was shrouded in the guilt of failing to be the Lord's witness to my school friends. I'm quite sure that Satan thoroughly enjoyed raining little drops of confusion upon my two mixed up beings. I existed in this state of frustration for several young years. Our little church held a doctrinal position that further added to this frustration. They believed sanctification to be God's second 'definite work' that would allow you to live a victorious life free of sin. Throughout my youth, I made many trips to an altar of prayer seeking this wonder. However, I never received such a thing, and consequently felt somewhat rejected by the Lord…spending extended periods of time in a state of defeat. But I loved the Lord and He loved me. I now can see how He mentored me day by day, month by month, year by year. He gradually taught me that I could not live a life of perfection, but rather I was to live a life within His Grace. His most amazing grace. He took me just as I was. He molded my stubborn clay as I gradually submitted, bit by bit, to His care. But I lived ignorant of this process, drawing further and further into shadows, and feeling more and more outside of the realm of where a Christian boy was to walk. The ten-year-old boy eventually turned eleven and was getting used to walking in his two worlds; being tough, being reclusive, being Christian and feeling guilty. An event was on the horizon, however, that would dramatically change his life…not only how he lived it, but who he became. I'll share that event with you in the next issue of 'Cups of Coffee'. |
Copyright ©2001 Dale Freeman. All rights reserved.