Read the book 2 PORK CHOPS!

 2 Pork Chops!

JOHN MASTERS

 

For anyone who may ever need a miracle.

We live in difficult times, and in a world that offers little relief. Somebody once sung, “Stop the world, I want to get off!”

Maybe we have all felt like that at times, but you cannot just get off. Like little ants whose anthill has been crushed, we scurry around in circles, desperately searching for the answer, trying to make sense of it all.

A thousand troubles and problems may surround you every day, and nobody ever seems to understand what you are going through.

Somewhere, sometime, somehow, everyone needs someone to come along and do the impossible or the incredible for them.

It may be trouble in the family, a financial crisis, a broken heart, or a messed up life. Perhaps it is shattered dreams, or a life-threatening illness. It may be the need of a job, a long-awaited answer, somebody to love you, or just finding a reason to go on.

But whatever it is, there is an answer - there is a miracle just waiting to happen.

I’ve seen a few myself.

This book tells about some of them, but more importantly, it shows the secret for releasing that desperately needed miracle.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” (King Solomon)

This is your time, your season, if you can dare to believe!  

Discovering a Miracle

I sat alone by the edge of the sea, the moon bathing the stillness of the night with its mellow radiance. The gentle lapping of the waves against the rocks seemed to melt away the rush and tear and struggle of yet another day. How wonderful, how beautiful to be alive!

And in some strange way, it felt really good to be alone!

I thought of the poem, that I had learned as a small child, ‘What is this life, if full of care? We have no time to stand and stare?’

I needed this time to just stop; to take time off, or as they say, ‘chill-out’. My greatest enemy was boredom (I hate being bored!) and so I filled my life with activities and projects, and worked as hard as I could to achieve results.

However, every morning I would come down to this spot and walk along the coastal path to think and prepare for the day ahead, and just for a change I ventured back down after work on this particular evening to get away from it all.

There were a hundred and one things pressing me for attention and I could do with a few miracles to sort some of them out, but I just popped them all into a little drawer inside my head, and decided to enjoy the air and freedom of the night.

And there it was, right in front of my eyes, staring down at me, a marvel, a wonder! A miracle indeed!  That lonely and desolate object we call the moon, hanging there in a cloudless sky, filling the entire ‘nightmospherics’ with a sense of hope and expectancy.

I say a marvel, a wonder, because truly that’s what it is.

By all accounts, I am told the moon is dead: a cold and lifeless spectacle that at first sight has no apparent value, and no sensible reason for being there. But every night by some peculiar chance of nature, a metamorphosis takes place (I like that word. It means ‘to change miraculously’).

This barren loneliness, trapped in time and space, is transformed from darkness into light. That great light of our solar system, the sun, shares its power and glory with a nothing.

Meaningless finds purpose: this moon suddenly finds reason for being - a miracle indeed! Surely, no chance or accident this, but master-minded in a perfect plan!

I thought, “If there is a reason for the moon, then there is a purpose for my life as well.”

Miracles come in all shapes and sizes. To be precise, I suppose that a miracle might be the birth of a child, the supply of money, the curing of a dreadful illness, peace in time of trouble, or just finding a reason to go on. It is not always the obvious though, and sometimes it is the most unlikely source that brings it about.

However, there is always a key to the miracle - but we have to discover what that key is.

The key that causes the moon to shine is its ‘position’. Its position in relation to the sun brings about the miracle.

We may not like the key when we first discover it, but if the door to your miracle is ever to be opened, the lock must be turned. This book presents the key.

This book could be dangerous. It may just be your position that is preventing the miracle from happening. It could change your life.

Looking for a miracle’? Perhaps there’s one just in front of your eyes!

Miracle at School

A little about nothing really!

One of the earliest miracles that I encountered happened during my second year at Plaistow Grammar School.

I have always found it much more enjoyable to do practical things than to sit down and study. During the first year I managed to skip the best part of the first nine months of schooling by just not bothering to go. This was probably because I had a brick thrown at my head during the first week there, and subsequently I would spend most days walking around East London trying to find scrap metal to make some easy cash.

I had a friend called Pickles, (that was his surname actually), and together we used to get up to some real mischief at times! I don’t think that we went to a single P.E. lesson for two and a half years after the sports master picked me up off the ground by my hair for not having plimsolls (or ‘training shoes’, as they call them now), because my parents could not afford any.

We found a wonderful old lady who lived in a bungalow just round the corner from the school. She used to make us a pot of tea and supplied us with biscuits and cakes during P.E. lessons whilst all the other kids were busy exercising.

Rocket hits school!

One afternoon, school being ended, we drifted slowly and aimlessly through the corridors towards the main entrance. The cleaners had left a bucket and mop outside one of the classrooms. Instinctively, I grabbed the mop and ran around the corner.

The anticipated shouting of an irate cleaner failed to materialise, so we slowed our run to a walk. We heard some noises coming from another room where the door was half-open. Inspiration flashed across my imagination. The mop suddenly ‘transformed’ into a rocket. The rocket was prepared for launch.

Countdown! Aim! Fire! We have lift-off!

Flying mop hits teacher! Teacher rendered unconscious!

We ran, but were not quick enough. Somebody spotted us.

Funnily enough, that same evening as I was making my way home from a friend’s house, I slipped on the ice and ended up in hospital with concussion.

The teacher (who had been so unfortunate to be in the wrong place at the right time) was in fact my English tutor. She was a good teacher and I enjoyed English more than any other subject. When I went back to school a week or so later, I had to apologise to her and then report to the headmaster’s office. We called him ‘Killer’!

He was a real mean character with sharp pointed features, a Hitler-type moustache, and dark beady eyes. When you saw him coming down the corridor you hid out of sight until he passed by (especially if you were anything like me).

I was not his most popular pupil. In fact, on one occasion he ordered me not to stand outside the front of the school buildings because it would give the school a bad name!

Pretending to have a severe headache due to the concussion, I avoided ‘six of the best’ that day (this was the corporal punishment back then). However, this was to be only a temporary reprieve. My excuse began to wear thin after two weeks, and ‘Killer’ said it must be delayed no longer.

The long, thin, bamboo cane came out of his desk. I leant across his two-armed chair, and my punishment was meted out. Six stinging strokes across one’s rear end!

At the end of term, I was handed by my class tutor an official-looking Report Book. This large A4 black book was decorated in gold with the name of the school, and contained an indelible record of assessments and comments, along with my results for exams and yearly achievements. This was a frightening day. My father would be waiting for this!

Imagine my absolute astonishment and surprise, when, turning to my English teacher’s comments, I found that she had given me an incredible A+ for my years’ work, and 99% for my exam results! There was no mention whatsoever of my misbehaviour.

This was the biggest miracle that I had ever seen.

OK, so maybe my teacher was just dead nice, but to me it was a miracle! 

Back from the Dead

Whilst living in the South West, I worked in a sawmill for three years, and during the evenings and weekends I would hitch a lift over to a little village called Chulmleigh. There I had the great privilege of studying out in the country with my own personal tutor, Lt.Col. Sir Rowland Biddulph.

Whilst everyone else went to college, I took advantage of the extraordinary opportunity to be privately taught in the comfort of a large rambling country house.

As there were never any college fees to pay, and no charge placed on me for my tutor’s time, I always considered it an honour to help around the estate whenever possible.

During the summer one year, the local farmer who was contracted to cut and bale the fields of hay, had got behind on his work-schedule. The grass had been cut, but he was quite unable to ‘turn’ it ready for baling. It was essential that the hay was brought in as soon as possible to keep it fit for the horses during the winter season.

I volunteered my services and promised to get a tractor and hay-turner within the next couple of days. (The estate did not have its own machinery for the job.)

Down in another village I managed to borrow a rather old tractor from a local farmer (well, his son actually - the farmer was away on holiday), and I located a somewhat rusty ‘Cock-Pheasant’ hay-turner (an old-fashioned machine for turning the hay over to dry it) at another farm. The young farmer showed me briefly which lever did what, and which switch turned the different functions on or off. Hoping that I would remember the essentials, I set off towards the road.

I had never driven a tractor before and used the twelve miles to the estate to get the hang of all the controls. Over the next few days I was pretty successful in turning the hay, in spite of getting the machine entangled in the barbed-wire several times.

I think the Colonel must have thought me quite brave, or maybe a bit daft!

About a week later I received a telephone call from the farmer’s son asking me to return the tractor because his father was due back from holiday. I went to the station the following morning and caught the first train to Chulmleigh, and climbed up over the hills to where it was parked. I knew that if I could get it back before 7 o’clock I would still be able to get to work on time at the sawmill in the village of Chapleton.

As a child, I had been taught to say my prayers at the start of every day, and so it did not seem an odd thing for me to stand out there in the field with the Colonel’s daughter and pray, “Oh God, whatever happens today, let it be under your perfect control.” That was to be a prayer that I would never, ever, forget!

I started up the engine and put the David Brown into gear. It was an older tractor and had no cab which made me very grateful that it was not raining. I rattled along at a fair pace and decided to take a shortcut down a single-track lane to save going on the main road.

This lane suddenly turned into a very severe hill with two extremely sharp bends half way down. I was travelling in high gear as I approached the top of this dangerous incline. I knew that I had to slow down, because, even if I could negotiate the first corner, I would never get round the second one. If I did not slow down I would end up going over the edge and crashing onto the other road some eighty or ninety feet below.

I reached for the gear-stick and depressed the clutch. The gear would not budge! Being an old tractor, there was no synchromesh in the gearbox. I had forgotten about that! I hit the brakes, trying not to over-brake in case it went into a skid. Nothing happened. The brakes had failed!

I remember looking back to see if I was skidding on the grass verge perhaps, but no, those huge rear wheels were still turning, unabated.

I had a choice. It is funny how quickly the mind works when you find yourself in frightening situations. I could just jump off and let the tractor plunge over the edge to the road below, but what if there was another vehicle there? I remembered my father telling me when I was quite young that if ever the brakes were to fail on the car, the best course of action would be to use the gears to slow you down, or try to edge the car into the bank on the side of the road. I had already tried the first option. It didn’t work!

Half-on, half-off the tractor, I committed myself to trying to jam the machine into the raised bank along the nearside verge.

I remember the tractor beginning to climb.

 

On their way to work that morning, two men travelling in a van decided to take a shortcut up a very steep hill. On rounding the first corner they came across a tractor upside down in the middle of the road. It was still rocking to and fro. Jumping out, they realised that there was someone underneath the wreckage. The ‘rear wheel of the tractor was virtually bent in half, the huge engine had sheared off its mounting plates, and diesel was running from the tank down the hill. One of them ran up the road to a farmhouse about four hundred yards away, from where they called the emergency services. There were no mobile phones back then.

Returning to the scene with a local farmer, they waited for the police and ambulance to arrive.

The nearest hospital was a good 20 miles away, but as far as any of them were concerned, the young man underneath the tractor was dead. Motionless, he lay there with his eyes wide open, staring up at the blue sky.

Eventually the police arrived, and as they were stood around looking on (supposing me to be quite dead), the farmer saw what he said was just a little ‘twitch’ in the cheek of the young driver.

“Thank God!” he cried, “He’s alive! - get him out!”

Apparently, (though I was quite unaware), after they had pulled me free, I went quite crazy! Some weeks later, the farmer who called the emergency services told me, “We pulled you out OK, but then all hell broke loose! We could not hold you as you dragged two of the policemen down to the bottom of the hill. After we lay you down, you were constantly smashing your head against the concrete road, and I feared that you would kill yourself.”

In fact, this man eventually put his legs underneath my head to stop any further injury being sustained. As a result he had to bandage both of them, and went round with a walking-stick for some weeks after! 

I was aware of a foreigner asking me what my name was. It sounded as though he was down a long tunnel, and it annoyed me that he kept asking the same question. I was sure that I had answered him the first time.

There was a terrible pain in my head, and I was trying to figure out where I was. I thought that I was lying on the kitchen table at my old friend the Colonel’s house! This did not make a whole lot of sense, but then nothing did at that moment. My parents had been rushed to the hospital with a police escort after being asked to identify a shoe belonging to me. They were told that I had sustained serious injuries to my head, and did not know what internal damage I might also have. They were later advised that I would have serious brain damage for the rest of my life.

I did not recognise them and did not make any response to their questions as I lay in the intensive-care unit.

It must have been gone midday when I actually became conscious. For the rest of the afternoon and night my body went through severe spasms every few minutes, all my muscles suddenly seizing, bringing my knees and arms violently up into my chest. This quickly sapped me of the little strength that I felt I did have.

At three in the morning I asked the nurse for a drink, my throat being as dry as the desert. She eventually brought me a teaspoonful of water in the smallest beaker that I have ever seen. I felt insulted and would not even touch it! Apparently, they did not know what internal injuries I may have suffered (this was before hospitals even knew what a CT Scanner was).

At around six in the morning I looked in the locker next to my bed and found most of my clothes were there. I put on the diesel-soaked, blood-splattered T-shirt and the torn trousers, but failing to find my shoes, I walked barefoot out of the ward down to reception.

I have always hated hospitals! I asked the receptionist to call me a taxi, and around an hour later I was knocking on my parent’s front door asking them to pay the cab driver. They were somewhat stunned, to say the least!

The following three weeks were very troubling for me with literally no short-term memory and falling unconscious every time I turned my head too quickly. Yet not a bone in my body was broken, and within three weeks I was back at work.

The police came to see me and said, “You should be dead!”

I visited my doctor, who sat back in his chair just shaking his head in amazement. He said, “What are you doing here? You should not be alive!”

I have no doubt whatsoever that my miraculous survival came as a result of that little prayer out in the field that morning, and the fact that my sister called everyone she knew to pray for me 

Oh yes! I believe in miracles!

 

£62-29p Miracle

I guess that I had always believed to some degree in God, but not to the point that it made any difference in my life.

I remember the time that I was locked up in a police cell in Hastings at the age of eighteen for something rather stupid that I had done. They removed my belt and my shoe-laces, in case I hung myself with them I suppose.

Well, I prayed that day! I said, “God, if you get me out of this, I will be the best person that you have ever seen!”

In fact, when my case went to court, I was given twelve months conditional discharge. I thought to myself, “Brilliant God! But look, I’ll become a good Christian when I’m eighty years old. I want to live my life first, make some money, and have a good time.”

The trouble is that none of us have any guarantee on the length of our life. It was actually just two years later that I did became a Christian. As a result my whole life was revolutionised, and my complete outlook changed. I discovered purpose and meaning to life and I began to experience real miracles in my everyday circumstances. I share some of these experiences in the next pages, and I hope that one of them might strike a chord with you.

Perhaps the miracle you require seems daft to everyone else, but to you it is of great importance. All things are possible to him or her who can believe!

Maybe, like the moon, you just seek a reason for being who you are. But whatever the miracle, remember this, the sun is always shining. The moon must simply come into the right position before it catches the light.

Somebody once said, “It is better to give than to receive”. In our high-speed, instant-cash, instant-credit, money grabbing society, this philosophy does not have much chance of being believed. However, I became a believer in this principle many years ago, and I’ll tell you why.

This is one of the little miracles that helped build my faith and confidence to expect even greater things.

There were not many things that I owned or possessed that I considered of any great value, but I did have a six-string EKO guitar which I felt I could not do without. This was not because I was a talented guitarist, (in fact I struggled to play anything unless it was in the key of C), but rather due to the children’s work that I was involved with every weekend.

I used to go down to the park in East Ham (London) with a couple of ‘real’ musicians, and hold an outside get together for the local children. We would do a few songs, tell a story (their favourite was about a man-eating plant), and get the kids involved in a bit of activity. It was like an open-air Sunday School.

One of the guitarists (Mick) who worked with me had recently come over from Australia where he had been touring with a band. He is an extremely talented blues and classical guitarist, but had got mixed up in the drug scene and subsequently had become a heroin addict. It was while he was out in Aussie that a massive change occurred in his life, (as a direct result of reading the Bible!). He was completely set free from his addiction without going through any ‘cold-turkey’. When I first met him he weighed just 6 stone 6 ounces, and stood around six feet tall!

I was sitting in my bedroom one night and felt that perhaps I should give Mick my guitar as he himself did not have his own and was constantly borrowing one. I struggled a bit over this and thought, “I need my guitar for the children’s programme, I am out of work, not claiming ‘State Benefit’, and cannot afford to buy another one. How can I give it away at this time?”

However, after an hour or so I gave in, and made a decision to let Mick have it. God says that if you give, it will be given to you; and so I took Him at His word and gave my friend the guitar.

It was around two weeks later on the 25th February that I received a letter from the Inland Revenue. (It was my birthday funnily enough). Inside was a printed cheque for £62-29 and I immediately knew that God had answered my prayer for another guitar. You see, I had been praying to God and explaining to him that I really did need another instrument so that I could carry on the children’s work. When the cheque came, I instinctively knew that this was the answer to my specific prayer.

I caught a bus to Ilford where there was a little music shop by the traffic lights. I walked in and looked all around at the dozens of different guitars available. What did I know about guitars?

My attention was drawn to one high up, hanging from the ceiling. It was a beautiful red and yellow sunburst colour with little humming birds on its belly and mother-of-pearl inlay all around its circumference. The only drawback was that it had 12 strings instead of 6.

It was hard enough for me to play on six strings with four fingers, let alone twelve with the same, but I figured that if there were twice as many strings then the sound would be twice as good as well.

There was no price tag on the guitar, so I asked the shop assistant to get it down for me.

Yes! This was the one!

I asked him for a canvas carrying case, a plectrum, a capo, and a strap to go along with it, and then asked him how much it all was. He totalled it up on a piece of paper and said, “That will be £62-29 please.”

I said, “Would you take a tax-man’s cheque?” He said “Yes.” (That was back in the days when you could simply sign the back of the cheque and cash it at a shop.)

I went down the road a step higher up the ladder of faith!

Oh yes! You see, God is not ‘nearly’ right, He is always, but always, spot-on!

This was a wonderful miracle to me in those early days as a new believer, and it would be so easy to dismiss it as just coincidence, if it was not for the fact that these sort of ‘coincidences’ continued to happen and grow both in frequency and size!

I was to see and experience greater miracles than this. 

Jed

Jed was just a few months old when we moved into our new home on the Island. He was a bright spark with a beautiful smile and was adored by all who saw him. His birth was miraculous owing to the fact that he should have been born dead or brain damaged due to severe complications during delivery at the hospital.

I had made myself a really decent mug of tea, piping hot (the only way to drink it!), and placed it on top of the tiled fireplace next to the gas fire. It was a cold night and I turned the fire up fully before picking up the baby and sitting down in front of the coal-effect, ‘living-flame’ heater.

You are told never to place hot liquids within reach of a baby or toddler. The information brochure for new parents warns of the dangers of hot substances to children. A cup of tea spilling over a baby is like pouring a boiling kettle over an adult.

Naturally I was always cautious of where I put my drink in case one of our other children accidentally spilled it on themselves, but for some unknown reason that night I had placed the drink down on the tiles just three or four inches above floor level. Perhaps I did not consider it a reason for concern, with the baby being only a few months old and the other children in bed, when I laid him down on the floor in front of me.

Things happen so quickly that you are not always quite sure how they came about.

So it was this night.

In a split second, what should have been a very relaxing half-hour, turned into every parent’s nightmare! Without me even noticing, baby Jed had somehow reached out and grabbed the mug, pouring the contents all over his chest and arms! His scream pierced the night and brought my wife running from the other room.

There are certain distinctions in a child’s scream that parents have a unique and intimate knowledge of. You just know when they are hurting. There is the scream of anger, the cry for attention, even the ‘pretend I’m hurt’ cry, but there is something else in the cry of genuine pain and anguish that, although quite indefinable, is quickly recognised by a mum or a dad. Such was the scream this time.

Immediately, noticing what had happened, I grabbed Jed and cried “Oh God!” I did not mean it irreverently, but knew that He was the only one who could help me. I ran through to the kitchen with him and thrust him under the cold water tap. He had one of those all-in-one ‘grow-suits’ on, and I just immersed him in the water that filled the sink. His screaming increased as the cold water added to his discomfort, and I tried to calm him by talking to him: “It’s all right, it’s all right; I’ve got you, I’ve got you!”

I kept him submerged for some minutes before rushing him back into the living room. I put him down on the carpet and began to undo his clothing. His chest and left arm were bright red where the scalding tea had permeated his thin blue clothing. I noticed the skin beginning to rise into what I knew would be blisters.

The nearest hospital was over twenty five miles away and would take a good half-hour to get there even if the road was clear. The ambulance would take even longer because it would have to come all the way across the Island first.

I quickly wrapped a wet towel around him and just prayed over him. I said, “God, I pray against what I can see. Let these blisters go down right now. Heal this little body by Your power, in the Name of Jesus Christ!”

I held him and comforted him until he slept, and then placed him in his cot under the care of a God that I had come to trust and love.

Sometime later I picked him up from the cot, placing him on the bed in the other room. I undid his clothes. There were no blisters, and not so much as even a pink patch anywhere on him!

God had heard my cry and answered my prayer!

The Bible says, “Call to me in the day of trouble, and I will hear you, and save you!”  

I did.    He did! 

 

Scared to die!

A lady came up to me one evening at the end of a young people’s meeting I was speaking at, tears running down her face. She demanded to know who had been talking to me about her! I told her that I did not even know who she was, and that if something I had said affected her in some way, then it was not because I knew anything of her situation.

She said that everything that I said was to do with things in her life. I suggested that perhaps it was God seeking to get through to her. 

She went on to tell me that she was just 35 years old, but had only six months to live. She was dying of a virulent cancer. She said, “I am so scared! – I am scared to die!”

I told her that I would like to sympathise over her sickness, but would not at that time. She looked astonished! I said, “Your sickness will undoubtedly bring you to an early grave, but there is something far worse that will bring your soul to a lost eternity and hell, outside of heaven and all that is good.

Well she just looked at me!

I explained to her, that like the entire human race, she had a ‘spiritual’ problem. There is a spiritual sickness inside all of us called ‘sin’ that keeps us from God’s presence, and ultimately will send us to hell. Well, she cried a whole lot more.

I was a bit amazed at myself afterwards when I came to consider what I had said, especially in the light of her terrible affliction.

I never heard from her again until she turned up at our Tuesday youth night two weeks later.

She was a different woman now. There was a broad smile on her face and a confident assurance in her eyes. She told me that when she got home that night after speaking with me, she considered what I had said. She decided that what she had heard was true, and asked God to forgive her sin, and accepted Jesus Christ as the answer to her life.

She told us that she had to put right some of the things in her life that she knew were wrong, and after praying to God, she felt clean and brand-new inside.

She was no longer afraid of death. She told me not to pray for her to be healed, because she wanted to go to meet this Jesus face to face!

Well, I tell you, that was a bigger miracle than if she had been healed right there on the spot!

The Bible tells us that Jesus came to destroy him who had the power of death (that is the devil), and set people free from its fear and terror. She moved from her position of fear, and stepped into the position of faith. 

Christmas

You may have been one of those people fortunate enough to have been born into a rich family, although I think that that may not necessarily be the best way to be born. I was not.

We struggled through and learned to survive. I remember going to school once with the soles of my shoes tied to their uppers with string!

When I was a child there were no designer-label track shoes, or fancy named sweatshirts costing ridiculous prices. You wore what you were given and tried to make it last is long as possible, especially when you grew up in a large family as I did. I had nine sisters and three brothers eventually! Most of my shoes and clothes came from the jumble-sale, and it would never have entered my mind to ask my parents for anything more. We learnt that money did not grow on trees, and every penny really did count. As a result we appreciated the little things in life, and never more so than at Christmas.

The thrill of Christmas Eve when I was a child has left an indelible memory of excitement, anticipation, and happiness on my life. We would hang up our little ankle socks at the end of our beds (in the expectation that ‘Santa Clause’ would sneak in and put some nice things in them), and wait for my father to say good night to us. About three hours later we would still be wide awake listening to the rustle of wrapping-paper and general chit-chat between my Mum and Dad downstairs. Sometimes we thought we could hear Santa’s bells ringing, and around midnight, ‘Santa’ could be heard climbing the stairs! We all pretended to be asleep as his footsteps approached the bedroom.

Peeping out from under the bedclothes we could just make out his red suit and white beard, but as quickly as he had walked in, he vanished out of the room again.

We would jump up to see if there was anything in our socks, but alas, Santa had not done his job - they were still quite empty!

It was oh, so difficult to get to sleep, and when eventually we did doze off, it was not for very long. At five in the morning we were jumping up again to have another look at the foot of our beds, but still nothing there. We sneaked downstairs and into the living-room: and there hanging over the fireplace were not our short little socks, but several very long grey socks filled to the brim with all sorts of goodies.

Our parents never complained at their lack of sleep that night, but enjoyed all of the fun and excitement as we unpacked all that ‘Santa’ had stuffed into those socks, spilling it onto their bed at that unearthly hour!

I guess we worked out pretty quickly that our Dad was ‘Santa’, but we enjoyed playing along with it, and it made no difference to our joy and happiness.

Christmas dinner was always the best, with the biggest turkey you have ever seen! Dad always carved, and our plates were just loaded to giant size. We would sing a ‘thank you’ prayer (that really was the worst part!) and then tuck in and eat like kings.

We had to wait all day until the early evening before we went into the ‘best room’. This was where the Christmas tree and our presents were displayed. We never got to see the tree or the decorations until it was dark on Christmas night. The room was locked and the curtains drawn all day against prying eyes!

Before going into the room we all had to wear blindfolds as part of the preparation for what to us was the most important moment of the whole year. Once inside, the blindfolds were removed. A tree covered in amazing lights in the shape of snowmen, Santa Clauses, and other Christmas characters met our widened eyes. Paper garlands seemed to cover the entire ceiling, and intriguing shaped presents cluttered the floor around the base of the Christmas tree.

It may have been second-hand, but my father had spent hours and hours cleaning and repainting that huge blue and red tipper truck that was hidden under the wrapping paper with my name tag on it. When I opened it, the thrill on my face was sufficient reward to my dad for all of his hard work. To me, it was the best gift in all the world 

Of all my childhood Christmas presents, I remember the big lorry, and a wind-up metal submarine. It was a clockwork submersible that used to duck and dive in the bath every time you wound it up. I think that my father bought it for himself really, the time he spent playing with it in the bathroom! It rusted out in the end.

Little things in life are so important!  

When I was about nine years old, I went to Dungeness lighthouse on a school outing. I have never forgotten opening my packed lunch to find (to my absolute delight and shock) a whole portion of Sainsbury’s cooked chicken in there. I felt very special and privileged that day! I had never had a shop-bought piece of roasted chicken to myself before.

I guess it must be hard for young people these days to appreciate how valuable these early memories are. In all of our fashion-conscious, materialistic, disposable, easy-come-easy-go society, such little things have no relevance. “Give me, give me, give me!” is often the only language spoken by many these days.

But it is the little things in life that are so important, and one’s appreciation of such small incidents and gifts produces a thankfulness that is becoming very rare.

 

A funny Miracle

In Great Britain they say that one person in every sixty five is a millionaire! At the time of writing this I happen to take up residence among the sixty four that are not!

It has been those incredible ‘in the nick of time’ miracles that have given such quality and diversity to my life. You know, that time when a bill is shouting at you to be paid immediately, and being completely broke, you cannot raise any cash. Out of the blue, someone comes round with the money they owed you from six months ago.

Or like the time the Land Rover (which I had borrowed) broke down just outside London. I was an awful long way from home with six or seven other members of my team, and wondered how we would get back that night with no spare money available.

The temperature gauge had gone into the red, and the maximum speed I could get from the engine, even downhill, was 30mph! Thinking that I had lost all of the oil or something, I pulled onto the side of the road and attempted to inspect the engine in the pitch black (it was around I.30am). Not being able to see a thing, I decided to have another go at getting the vehicle home to Devon. We did not get very far.

I pulled over yet again and had another look inside the engine compartment. I couldn’t see a thing, and even if I could have, there was very little that I could have done in any case.

But prayer changes things!

Whilst I was outside in the rain, the guys in the back of the Land Rover decided that some prayer might help the situation. After all, if God made the heavens and the earth, and created the first man that ever lived, then was a turbo-diesel engine such a big problem to Him? I jumped back in, unaware that they had prayed, and pushed the gear-stick forward. We travelled for the next three hours down the motorway at 70mph with the temperature back to normal!

It doesn’t finish there either!

On arriving in Barnstaple, I dropped off each member of my team, and finally arrived at my own house in the early hours. After parking up, I switched off the engine and caught a few hours of sleep.

I decided that I would return the vehicle straightway to the garage from which it was borrowed, and tell them of our difficulty the night before. In the morning I went to turn the key in the ignition, but nothing happened. It was absolutely dead. There was not a spot of life in it. The garage had to come and carry the Land Rover away on a transporter. They informed me a week later that the problem was caused by the timing-chain coming off.

The whole engine would have to be rebuilt due to the ‘rods’ going up into the cylinder head. All four pistons and bearings would have to be replaced along with the cylinder head itself! They could not believe that we had driven that vehicle all the way from London after such a catastrophic breakdown.

Or what about the time I needed £3,750 by Friday lunch-time, and like today is Thursday? I prayed and asked God, in the name of Jesus, to meet my need. On Friday, at lunch-time, two young men walked up my driveway and knocked on the door. They said, “Today is a very special day for you!”, and handed me a personal cheque for £3,750.

 

‘2 Pork Chops’

Some years ago, when we lived in Devon, we were really struggling to make ends meet. All that we seemed to do was to pay bills!

As soon as one lot was cleared, another pile would arrive on the doorstep with the postman (anyone know what I mean?).

I had no salary or income to speak of, and we were not drawing any government allowances because I was engaged in a full-time Christian ministry.

Every morning I would go out a little way into the country lanes for a walk. This was, and still is, the most important habit that I have ever formed. This is where I developed my friendship with God and came to know more of Jesus Christ

One particular morning in the summer, the sun was rising high in the beautiful blue sky, and I was enjoying the warm air and the freedom and peace of the countryside. The single track lane that had become one of my favourite haunts was alive with flowers and shrubs. It was a wonderful place to think and talk things through with God.

As I was walking, I noticed something unusual in the hedgerow. Going over to it, I was amazed to discover two dinners sat right inside the hedge on separate blue trays, covered with cellophane! I prodded them and discovered that they were frozen solid. On each tray there were chips, peas, and two pork chops! Well, I just smiled to myself and wondered how on earth they had got there. This little country lane was hardly ever disturbed by traffic and it would be most unusual to find anyone else down there. Here was something most strange and bizarre!

Now, I know that Moses came across a ‘burning’ bush, but I came across a ‘frozen-dinner’ bush! The hedgerow was quite a few feet off the road, which made it most unlikely that they could have fallen from a passing vehicle. I sort of frowned to myself in astonishment, and continued my walk 

On arriving home some time later, I told my wife that I had seen an incredible sight whilst out walking. I said, “You’ll never guess what I saw today!” Well she never did. So anyway, I told her, and she just said, “Why didn’t you bring them home? That was God providing our dinner for today - we’ve got nothing else to eat in the house.”

I said, “What? - You think so, huh?”

“Do you want me to go back and get them (if they’re still there, of course)?”

“Yes!” she replied!

Well, I turned round, somewhat bemused, and went back to the lane.

There they were, still sitting there, still frozen, still inside the hedge! I brought them home, and at lunch-time she duly cooked them. Now, me being quite the sceptic, I watched her eat the meal waiting to see if she were to drop down or something, thinking them to be poisoned perhaps!

I asked, “Is that good?” She replied, “Excellent!” So after a while, and seeing that she was still alive, I figured that perhaps this was God’s extraordinary way of providing for us that day.

I tentatively picked up my fork and tasted the food. Yes, it was good, but then everything that God does is good.

A miracle, by one definition, is something that does not occur every day in the natural course of events. I think that this episode is perfectly qualified to be included in this category.

 

To fly or not to fly?

Is everything in life just a gamble, or is there a greater power at work, invisible to the human eye? Must we just leave everything to chance and live our lives as a lottery, hoping that we might see some good in our time?

I am convinced that since I became a ‘believer’, everything that I go through or encounter is within the scope of providence. What I mean by that is, if God is truly God, and if He has an interest in me, then I can totally trust Him with my life and my future. All that happens to me, all that is planned for me, is within His all-knowing foreknowledge.

Of course, such a trust can only be built on a real and very personal relationship with the Creator of this world. That relationship can only come about when I turn to Jesus and give my life over to Him. He said categorically, “I am the Way, I am the Truth, and I am the Life. No one comes to God the Father except through Me!” Pretty tough words, but I have proved the truth of them time and time again.

To illustrate this, I offer the following real-life example.

Towards the end of 1983 I was invited to address the National Conference in Lagos, Nigeria. There would be around seven thousand delegates, and I would be expected to speak once or twice every day for at least one week. The advertising was under way in the Capital, and my picture was being posted out to the delegates. I would be away from home for the Christmas season which certainly was not my idea of fun, especially as it would be our baby’s first Christmas. However, I settled myself, and packed my things in anticipation.

I would be travelling with a good friend of mine from Nigeria by the name of Jimmi Oshin. He had worked with me for several years here in the UK, and was desperate to get me out there to meet the various leaders. I had all of my ‘jabs’, and had stocked up with anti-malaria and water-purifying tablets.

A week before we were due to fly, my ticket and visa had failed to materialise, despite having made numerous telephone calls and visits to the High Commission in London. We were both getting a little concerned because of the arrangements and the schedule of the programme, and I began to wonder if God really wanted me to go.

I knew that He was absolutely in control, and so I made a suggestion to Him when I was praying on the Monday of that week. I said, “OK, God, You know what is going on here, and I trust you with the situation.” I made a proposal, if you like, and said. “If the visa and ticket comes on Tuesday, Wednesday, or Friday, I will still fly out; but if they come on Thursday I will not go, and I will accept that as being your will and plan for me.”

Well, guess what! That visa and ticket came on Thursday! My friend telephoned me to congratulate me on their arrival, and asked me to meet him at the airport.

He was extremely annoyed when I declined. I told him the conditions that I had put on the matter, and said that I believed God had dearly shown me His decision regarding travelling. He became quite agitated, and hung up. I did not speak to him again for about one month until after he returned from Lagos.

Well, I was most interested to hear that on the day that he flew out, there was a military coup in Nigeria, and as a result, a curfew was placed on the capital. My friend was locked inside the airport at Lagos for three weeks.

I enjoyed Christmas at home with my family!

Miracles happen when you begin to place your absolute trust and faith in God. As I have said before, such faith can only be born out of a living experience and spiritual encounter with Jesus Christ!

Like the moon, when it comes into the right position, the miracle happens!

 

Walking on Water!

We’ve all heard the saying “walking on water”, but it is not until you actually step out of the boat that you appreciate what it really means. It is when you dare to do something that your mind argues is quite impossible!

Most of us are rational beings who measure most of what we do with a deal of caution. What happens though when you are called to put your whole life ‘out ‘on a limb’?

What if that calling comes simply from the notion that you believe God has spoken to you to do something? (Now, I should just point out that God will never tell us to do anything that is wrong or against the truth.) You cannot see Him; nevertheless you believe in your heart that He really is God and that He does not make mistakes. You take on complete trust that He is just as concerned about your physical needs as He is your spiritual requirements.

You place your faith in an ancient book called the Bible, believing that God actually talks to you through its pages. You rest your life on that Book, and accept it to be holy, inspired, absolute truth, and authoritative: this is indeed the infallible word of God.

You believe that He plays an intimate role in your life, guiding you in every important decision that you will ever have to make. That is not to say that every decision you ever make is the correct one (I’ve made some awful ones!), but if you give time and place for God to get in on the situation, he can and will reveal his plan and purpose for your life.

In the Bible, Peter was called to get out of a small fishing boat in the middle of a stormy sea, in the dark of the night, by an eerie figure which appeared to be walking on top of the waves! The other guys in the ship must have thought him totally crazy! Can you just imagine the scene? “Hey, Peter, don’t be daft! What do you think you’re doing? You’ll die if you go out there!” “Pete, have you been drinking, man? Are you crazy?”

Now Peter was by no means stupid, but he had heard a compelling voice calling out through the wind and rain, “Come!” Faith rose up in his heart, (he knew it was Jesus), and he said, “OK, I’m on my way!”  He climbed out of the boat, and placed his feet on the water.

If you hear God speak to you, you have really got to do something about it. You cannot just sit there and do nothing. Oh yes, sure everyone else will tell you that you are going ‘over the top’ with your belief. They will suggest that you are being ‘too intense’, and that you need to come back down to earth. Even your very best friend will tell you to think it over before you do anything. But when you know that it is God talking to you, you just have to step out and trust Him with whatever happens!

I have done this on many occasions, and He has never failed me. Let me give an example:

 

Perfect Timing!

It was the month of June 1989, and we had been living in the South West for some four years holding Gospel concerts around the country, and recording some of our work in the studio behind the house.

I heard that Billy Graham (the most famous preacher of our time) was in London for a few days conducting a mission in the East End at Upton Park Football Ground. I suggested that we drive up to hear him and take a chance that we get a ticket for the evening’s programme. So, taking our two children, we drove the five hours up to West Ham Stadium.

On our arrival at four in the afternoon, I was quite dismayed to learn from the stewards that all the tickets were gone, and that there was absolutely no chance of getting into the grounds without one. I had truly believed that it was alright with God to go, and that He indeed wanted us to be there. I walked away from the ticket office a little bit flummoxed and most disappointed.

I had not gone more than fifteen yards when I heard someone calling to me from the entrance to the stadium. I turned and walked back to the official who was beckoning to me.

He said that he had overheard me saying that I had driven up from Devon. He asked me whether I knew a certain gentleman by the name of Gordon Friend. Well, you could have knocked me over! I mean, Devon is some huge place, and I lived in a tiny village!

I said, “Do you mean the Gordon Friend of Over Weir Farm?” He said, “Yes, that’s right!” I told him that he was the treasurer in my local church, and I knew him very well!

The steward then said that I was not to worry about getting into the meeting as he would give us front-row seats, and furthermore, we could park our car in the stadium car park reserved only for officials!

It was June the 16th, (a date that would become most significant), and I stood at the end of that evening on West Ham’s ‘sacred’ turf, looking up into the dark sky through the blaze of hundreds of floodlights.

Thousands of people stood all around me, some were counsellors, and others what you might call ‘seekers’. They were out there because of the message that Billy had just preached, and wanted to do some business with God.

I just felt that I wanted to be alone with God to hear what he wanted me to do with the rest of my life. I guess that I must have been stood there for three quarters of an hour. I was absolutely convinced that God had shown me during that time that we were to leave Devon and do a new thing somewhere else in the country.

Back in Devon I did not really know what the next step should be, but being convinced that God had told me it was time to leave the area, I was obliged to put the house on the market.

Around the same time, I was invited (through a series of those so-called ‘coincidences’) to apply to work within a Christian organisation as the pastor of a church. I had never done this before, and did not really think that it was quite my area of expertise. However, I filled in the forms and applied for a ministerial position within the denomination.

The process of application is quite long and involved, and culminates in a three hour interview, or should I call it an ‘interrogation’?

We were to wait to find out if we were accepted. That was long, painful, and hard, especially as we had a buyer for the house in spite of the ‘crash’ in property prices at that time. (It was not our house, but as it belonged to the family trust, we had to put it on the market before moving.)

I believed that we should move to a town in Wales. I felt quite convinced that this was where God wanted us to be. We had travelled up there a couple of times that year, and each time we were there the impression was the same. There was a sense of destiny about the place. I believe that God was telling me that we would go there to do something for Him!

It was the first of May 1990, when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find the prospective buyer for our house in a rather agitated mood. She explained that due to herself and her husband being college lecturers, they really needed a date for moving in, the sooner the better. I did not know what to say because we had not heard anything from our interview as to where, or even if we might be stationed. However, I knew that God was in perfect control of the whole thing.

I personally felt that things were running a little ahead of schedule perhaps, but knew that I had to act in faith and commit myself to a decision right there and then.

I invited the lady in and asked my wife to fetch a calendar. Kneeling on the lounge carpet, I sent a ‘thought-prayer’ out to God, and asked him to guide me with choosing a date for moving.

You must remember that we had nowhere to move to at that moment in time!

My eyes fell upon Friday the 31st of May. I had a sense of ‘knowing’ that that was the right date. So I told the woman that we would move out on that day and she could move in on Saturday the 1st June.

She was delighted and left to inform her solicitor, whilst I telephoned mine to confirm the same. I had a tremendous peace about it, and even when my wife said that I had now made us homeless, I knew that I could rely on God for the future. You see, I had learnt to spend a bit of time with God getting to know Him over the years, and as a result, I knew that I could trust him. He promised that He would never fail me or let me down, and He was not going to begin to do so now.

I said, “I know that we seem to be two weeks ahead of the situation, but we must act in faith. Who knows? maybe we will get invited up to Wales on Friday the 31st and get an interview for the church on the Saturday!”

That very same evening, at around 8pm, the telephone rang. A Scotsman on the other end introduced himself as an Elder from the church in Wales. He told me that he had just received an unexpected phone-call from his Area Superintendent asking him to give me a call. It was suggested that the church should interview us for the position of Minister.

“Would we come up on Friday 31st May, stay over, and have an interview on Saturday the 1st June?”

I slept very well that night!

So, burning the bridges behind us, loading all of our possessions into a large van, we followed the van up to Wales in our car on May 3Ist, arriving in the town at around 11pm. This was to avoid anyone seeing the removals truck. I did not wish for anybody to know that we had actually moved, thus making ourselves homeless, and prejudicing the interview on Saturday. The driver hid the vehicle out of sight. It was vital that the committee interviewing us did not feel obliged to take us simply because we were landed on them.

I was asked some rather awkward questions during our two-hour meeting the following day, and had to tactfully avoid answering enquiries.

“Do you have a ‘vision’ for this town?” and, “When would you be able to move up?” I told them I could not answer those questions, and suggested that everyone on the committee needed to know for themselves from God whether we should be there or not.

It was a pleasant interview, but no decision was going to be made there and then, and we were told in those infamous words, “Thank you for coming. We will let you know in due course.”

 The short journey back into the town was insufficient to deal with the big question-mark that hung in the air. How long is “in due course” going to be?

We were homeless, with three little children, stranded in a place that was quite foreign to us with a hired van that needed to be returned after the weekend. And none of the committee had the slightest inkling of our predicament.

 But I knew that I had heard from God, and He would not let me down. I had put all of my trust and faith in Him, and the problem was His and not mine. This is the assurance that you have when you belong to Jesus.

We were staying in a large house that overlooked the Irish Sea with a lovely family who were members of the same church. On arriving back there, we had barely sat down when there was a telephone call for us.

It was the Chairman of the Committee on the other end. He told us that for the first time in the history of the church the members had been unanimous in their decision! Would we consider taking the job?

I said, “Yes!” He then asked when we would be able to move up. I told him that we already had. He was (in colloquial language) ‘gob-smacked’!

About twenty minutes later we received another telephone call from a man called David. He informed us that he was the Regional Superintendent, and wished to confirm our ‘induction’ (the actual starting date of our appointment, which would be characterised by an official service in the church). This was to take place on the 16th June 1990 - exactly one year to the very hour when I first sensed God speaking to me on that turf at West Ham Football ground! God said that he had something new for me to do, and here was the precise timing of His word.

We moved into a church house in the town on the very next day!

When you step into the position of trusting God, miracles begin to flow!

 

The Winning Combination!

In 1995 I really wanted to do something to share my personal faith with others, without coming over all ‘religious’ and ‘churchy’. My plan was to make a ten-minute video and put it into the hands of thousands of people to give away to their friends and neighbours.

I knew that it was going to take many thousands of pounds to produce the film, and many more thousands to purchase the first twenty thousand copies. On top of that I wanted to produce a good quality booklet to send free of charge to anyone who felt inspired by the contents of the video. I intended to print forty thousand copies of this full-colour brochure just to begin!

I had absolutely no salary or income, having concluded my time with the church some months earlier.

While I was out walking across the fields one morning, and just sort of talking to God about the finances of such an operation, I felt that He wanted me to take a new step forward in the programme. I was to do something that I had never done before.

I was to book a conference lounge in a Post House hotel on the M6 near Birmingham, and then telephone Lawrence (who I had met just a few weeks previously) to ask for his assistance.

He was a tall, middle-aged man, who never quite knew when to stop talking! His job was to find me forty people who might be interested in my visionary idea and who would be willing to come to the hotel for a buffet and presentation on Friday 27th January. I could not really afford the hotel, let alone a hot buffet, but I just went for it in faith!

It snowed that week and the roads were pretty awful, but the motorway at least was clear. I set off early to arrange the head-table in the hotel ready for the evening.

To my disappointment just twelve people turned up, six of them being my personal friends who themselves probably could not even have afforded to contribute towards the meal!

We had the buffet first which was certainly worth coming out for on that freezing cold night! I then proceeded to share my heart about my concern for the moral and spiritual state of our country. I spoke of the need to communicate with people in a realistic way, outlining the concept of the video.

I felt that it was well received, and concluded the evening with a cup of coffee and a prayer.

At no time did I ask for money or donations, yet before we left, there were enough gifts in cash and cheques to pay in full for the hotel and the meal.

One man who attended, sitting two chairs along from me, looked very tired. Well, actually, he slumped in his chair and leaned heavily on the table. I wondered why he had come really and who had invited him! He went back to the buffet three times, and for most of the evening appeared quite disinterested in what I had to say, although he did manage a couple of questions during the question-time. I figured that someone had made a mistake in having him there!

Having said that, I believed that the event had been worthwhile, and I knew that God was always in control; and I sensed His peace on my life.

About one week later there was a knock at my front door. On my doorstep was this very same man dressed in his work-clothes. He asked if I remembered him. I most certainly did! He explained that it was his lunch-break and he wondered if I might have a few minutes to chat. We had a cup of coffee, and he told me (much to my astonishment) that he really enjoyed the presentation. He said that he believed that it was truly from God and would like to be of some help if he could. He suggested that he might have £300 saved up under his pillow for a rainy day, and asked whether it would be of any use to us.

I said, “Yes please, anything would help at the moment!” He had to get back to work, but promised that he would call again the following week for another coffee.

He did come back, and we did have a second coffee. We chatted about the video and its production and the possibilities of reaching our nation with its message. Then it was time for him to go back to work.

Just as he was leaving he handed me a crumpled white envelope. He told me that it was the £300 he had mentioned before, and said that he knew that God wanted him to give it to me. I took it and said, “Thank you”. Being typically British, I did not open it until he had driven off!

Pulling the cheque from the envelope, I stared in amazement and wonder. There in the right-hand box was the amount - £19,500-00! Yes, even in the scribbled writing it said, Nineteen Thousand and Five Hundred pounds!

Isn’t God incredible! 

On top of that, Lady Susan Sainsbury, after watching the sneak preview copy, gave a further £20,000 for the manufacture and copying of the first 20,000 units by the Rank Film company. 

And that is how we produced the ten-minute Winning Combination film! It was used by many individuals and churches throughout the country. In fact, one church in Swansea ordered 80,000 copies to distribute free to every house in their city!

I met a man (not so long ago) who told me a story. On one particular day, he had decided to go over the Yorkshire moors to kill himself. Things had gone beyond anything he could take any longer, and in his distress he saw no other answer to his predicament. He carried his alcohol and his tablets to do the job properly, and set off. As he walked down the road he kicked a black refuse bag awaiting collection. A copy of this film fell out.

He picked it up and decided that with a title like that, maybe his luck had changed!

He turned round and went back home to watch it. Whilst listening to the message on it, God changed his life and turned him around from his planned suicide. He is now a believer!

 

The greatest Miracle of all

This happened to me many years ago.

I was in the East End of London in a small flat in High Street North, living my life how I pleased. My ambitions were to make loads of money, marry a gorgeous girl, live life to the full, and stay alive as long as I could.

All of those things were uncertain at the best of times, and I ended up working in a London Co-op supermarket for a year! 

One day I got to thinking about what would happen if I were to die. I know that it is not the sort of thing a young man should be thinking about, but why not? Death does not affect only the old.

I figured that I would never make heaven, (God being so holy, and me, - well ...!) and that left only hell as an alternative. This thought occupied my mind for some days.

Returning from work one evening, I knelt down on the carpet in the apartment supplied by my company, and tried praying. I had heard the ‘gospel’ when I was a child, and knew that Jesus had died on a cross for sinners. I easily came into that category, so I just told Him what was in my heart. If He was truly God, then He already knew all about me anyway, including everything that I had ever said, thought, or done.

It felt as though He was in the same room as me, and I thought that I could almost reach out and touch Him!  I knew that He had risen from the dead and was very much alive, but I seemed to see Him hanging on a dirty, rough, wooden cross, under a darkened sky. It looked as though it were the middle of the night, and as if the burdens of the whole world were crushing down on Him.

It seemed as though he looked right into my eyes, piercing my very soul, and said, “You are the cause of my pain! You are the reason for this sacrifice! - and I love you!”  

“And I forgive you! And here on this cross I pay the price, in full, for your life and the right to your heart!”

I asked Him to forgive my many sins and to clean out my life. I asked Him to change my heart and give me a new start.

He did!

I just knew that He had. I felt clean, forgiven, alive, and brand new!

I heard no audible voice, neither did I see any flashes of lightning, but I knew beyond any doubt, that He had done something in me that was going to revolutionise my life forever!  

He was ‘real’ all of a sudden, not just some great ‘Being’ up there in the sky somewhere. He was with me, and I knew that He would never let me go.

I said, “Jesus, if you are going to take me on, then you must take me lock, stock, and barrel!” That meant that everything I was, the situation I was in, my past, my present, and my future, were all His responsibility.

I got me a Bible and started to read the Gospel of John. Suddenly that old Book started to make some incredible sense. It was alive, and God began to speak to me through the words that were on those pages!

I had to sort out some things in my life which I knew were wrong, and that surprised a few people I can tell you! I told my family and some friends what had happened to me. They were astonished, but agreed that something had indeed been done.

That was well over forty years ago, and because of that change of position in my life, I have enjoyed a wonderful friendship with God ever since.

You can too.

The same Jesus looks down at you right now, and says, “I love you, I forgive you, no matter how bad you’ve been; no matter how messed up your life is. I will receive you as my son, my daughter, my child, and give you a brand new start!”

Now, you may be a ‘backslider’ who once knew God in a real way, but like the prodigal, you have gone your own way. You have wrecked your life, you have spoiled your chances.

But let me tell you, God is willing to receive you back the very moment you step toward him in faith. He still loves you! I promise you he does! He brings a wonderful hope for your future. He has a plan for your life.

A Broken Plant - A Wrecked Life!

A flash of white over in the grass caught my attention whilst out walking one morning.

I have always had a keen interest in the countryside since a child. Every Sunday my father would take us out (my sisters and I) for a walk in the country down to ‘Three Oaks’, in Sussex. There, during the spring and summer, we would be rewarded for every new wild flower that we could find growing in the hedgerows. Three old pennies most times, but if the plant was a rare one, we might get a silver sixpence!

Even now, it still amazes me just how beautiful and varied the English countryside is; and I still find myself looking out for that new and undiscovered flower.

This particular morning (just a few weeks ago) my mind was having half-an-hour off before the day began in earnest. Attracted by this splash of colour in the grass, I walked over and saw that it was a type of multi-headed daisy that grew to about three feet tall.

Unfortunately this particular flower appeared to have been trodden down by some cruel boot at some time, and rather than standing vertical and tall, it lay along the ground, crippled, damaged, and broken.

Yet, in spite of its handicap and deformity, it had turned its whole head skyward, and looking up into the radiance of the sun, displayed a beauty and glory that shouted out, “Hey! Look at me!”

I had a ‘Wobbly-Man’ when I was very little. This was a plastic toy in the shape of a clown, but instead of feet it had a rounded bottom that was filled with sand. This meant that no matter what you did to Mr. Wobbly, he would always end the right way up!

You could kick him, throw him against the wall, drop him, roll him, slap him, but no matter what you did to try and put one over on him, he always, but always, came back up smiling!

I think of myself sometimes as that Mr. Wobbly!  As I looked on this damaged flower it reminded me of my own life in some peculiar way. This plant was supposed to be upright and perfect in all its ways. It should be standing proud giving testimony to its Creator as that of a wonderful designer, a caring benefactor, and a loving friend. And yet, in spite of its condition, - No! - I say, because of its condition, it did all the more represent its Creator as a wonderful designer, a caring and kind benefactor, and a genuine friend!

I wish I could say that all my life has been upright and pure, that I have never ‘messed up’, that I have never been hurt or damaged, or that there are no blemishes: but alas, that is not true. I guess that I have failed probably more than anyone else. Even as a Christian, I have ‘blown it’ on occasion and feel like I’ve wrecked my life.

But here is the wonder! – from out of the mess, the failures, the broken ruins, the light still shines! Just like that flower, though broken and smashed, yet somehow, by God’s mercy, love, and goodness, and a rather special miracle, this flower turns its face toward heaven above, and declares the truth that ‘God is love!’

When I have found myself in the lowest valley, the darkest night of my life, I have turned myself back towards God.

By His goodness and love, He has restored me, revived me, forgiven me, healed me, and shined His light into my life. Just like Psalm 23 in the Bible says, “He restores my soul.”   He picks me up again

There are a whole lot of us people out there who are well-wrecked. We’ve been told that we are rubbish, failures, useless, unwanted and unnecessary, a waste of space! They tell us that we could have been so good, so useful, we had so much potential!

But God is bigger than all of us, and there is absolutely nothing impossible to Him!

I went back over to see that flower just this week. Sadly, somebody had ripped it out and discarded it on the rubbish tip. Thank you God that you do not do such a thing with us!

I’ve got a special Friend who I run to when I’m in trouble. He never refuses to hear me out, nor stands in judgement over me. Even when I know that I am desperately wrong, and when He knows the same, he doesn’t stand there saying, “I told you so! You made your bed, - now you lie on it.”

He has compassion even in the worst scenario, and seeks for a way to restore, rebuild, and mend the damaged goods of my life.

When you were just a child (if you were anything like me) it seemed like you got hit every time that you did something wrong. The only possible value in such action was that of a threatening nature. You did not do it again because you did not want to get punished! The fact is, it just made you more careful in the way you behaved in the future simply to avoid getting found out! There was often no mercy that you could see in such punishments, but of course you were politely told that “This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you!”  Oh yeah?

My special Friend is always consistent. Perhaps that is why I wrote this little verse one day, ‘When no-one knows, he knows; When no-one cares, he cares; When no-one loves, he keeps on loving: that’s why I know that I can trust Him!’ His name is Jesus the Almighty God.

 

No valley too deep

I remember God telling me something most profound, and something that has been of great power and effect in my life over the last many years.

I was driving through the beautiful countryside of North Wales at one time and journeyed through a wonderful mountain range. The little road that I was travelling on, wound its way along the side of those majestic, soaring, peaks. I felt constrained to stop the jeep at one point and walk over to the side of the track.

Something had caught my eye!

Looking across the valley to the huge mountain rising up into the skies, I noticed what looked like hundreds of little white veins running haphazardly from the top and all the way down its sides.

Leaning against the railings, I peered down from the road into the valley below. At the bottom there was the most wonderful picture of tranquillity that one might hope to find anywhere. A perfectly still lake stretched itself out in the blazing sunshine, and I could make out the splendour of a glorious pine forest to one end with a lush green blanket of grass running down to the water’s edge. It soon became clear that the white zig-zagging streaks on the mountain were in fact little streamlets coursing their way down the rock face. These streams were of crystal-clear water, forever seeking a path down into the basin below. They increased both in width and power the further they went, until finally they came together as one, and crashed into the lake as a mighty waterfall and torrent.

I really sensed God speaking to me.

He said, “John, you see all this?” I nodded my head. “This is just like my love towards you. Those streams are a picture of my love for you. It does not matter how low the valley you may find yourself in one day; it does not matter how deep the pit you may have fallen into. Just as water always seeks the lowest level, so my love will always seek you, even at the very lowest valley in your life! There is no place or situation so deep that my love cannot reach you!”

Now, I have been in some low places, sometimes through no fault of my own, and sometimes because of my own folly and waywardness; but even in the darkest night and the loneliest of circumstances, God’s love has reached down to me and picked me up! My Friend has kept His word and found a way to rescue me.

The deeper the valley, the more powerful His love and mercy appears!

You may be in dire straits at this very moment. Maybe your whole world is crumbling all around you: pressures and difficulties, financial impossibilities, wrecked relationships, broken families, poor health.

I don’t know your particular situation, but let me recommend my Friend. His name is Jesus, and He has promised to anyone who is worn-out, under pressure, at the very point of giving up, that if they come to Him, call on His name in faith, He will rescue them and save them out of their troubles.

‘Come unto Me all of you who are weary, sad, and burdened with a heavy load and sin, and I will give you rest to your soul!’

‘Call on Me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver you, and you will give me thanks!’

‘Repent of your sin, and believe the good news.’

He will deliver your miracle the very moment that you stand in the position of faith, trust, and confidence in him.

So, how do I get this faith? 

Well, actually, it is quite simple: but maybe that is what makes it so difficult for people to grasp!

Faith is a gift from God. You cannot have faith by trying to have faith! To be precise, it comes by hearing. As you have read this book, so you have heard truths about God. The Bible says that faith comes by hearing, and hearing comes by the word of God. (That is why you should read the Bible – it is his word).

If somehow God has spoken to you through these pages, then faith will have begun to rise in your heart. I cannot make anyone believe in God or in the truth about Jesus. I am just like that moon that hangs there in the darkness. I have no light, power, or ability of my own to change anyone, but what I can do is reflect (in some very small way) the truth of God’s love to this lost world.

God is the light, and only He can shine into your darkness and bring life, and joy, and hope, and peace.

Jesus said, “I am the light of this world; if anyone follows Me, they shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life!”

The greatest miracle that could happen to you right now is that you believe with all of your heart in Jesus Christ.

To do that, you must do three things. You must firstly believe that he is who he says he is; that He died for you on the cross in order that you might be forgiven and washed from all of your sin by his blood.

Secondly, you must be willing to repent. That is an old fashioned word, but so relevant today. What it simply means is that you must ‘about-turn’. Turn from the direction that you are going in, and turn to God. Turn from what you know is wrong, evil, and sinful, and face Jesus Christ as the only one who can save you and transform your life.

And thirdly, you must receive Jesus into your life, and accept His free gift of forgiveness and salvation.

The Bible says that whoever receives Jesus Christ and accepts Him as their only Saviour and sovereign Lord, has the authority to become a child of God.

You cannot earn this or buy it through good works or turning over a new leaf. God’s forgiveness, love, and salvation is totally free to whoever will receive it!

To receive Jesus and his gift of eternal life, you could pray this simple prayer:

‘Oh God, I acknowledge that I am a sinner. Please forgive my sin. Wash me with the blood that Jesus shed at the cross, and make me clean. I believe on Jesus Christ with all my heart and declare my allegiance to him. I renounce every sin, and everything that stands opposed to his will and purpose. Fill me with Your Holy Spirit, and make me your child. I ask it in the name of Jesus, Amen.’

Better still, tell Him the truth of where you are, of what you have been, and that you need Him right now to become your friend and Master (we call Him Lord). Talk to Him as the One who knows everything there is to know about you.

He has watched you since the day that you were born. He knows everything anyway!

And now, if you have prayed that prayer, you should tell somebody. Don’t keep it to yourself! God says that if you believe, you will not be ashamed to confess your personal faith in Jesus Christ. If you believe with all your heart, then you will not be embarrassed to tell others what God has done for you.

Get a Bible and begin to read the Gospel of John; and pray - it is not hard! Just talk to God as though He was your greatest friend - He is!

And it is so important to meet with other true Believers who believe the same things about God and the Bible as are written in this book. There are all sorts of people who claim to be ‘Christians’, but true Believers are known by their love and by their new nature that shows that they have been born again (as the Bible calls it).

There is nothing too hard for God! No, your life and circumstances are not too difficult for Him!

Whatever your need, however desperate your situation, God can perform a miracle for you the moment that you dare to step out and trust Him with all of your heart. I have proved Him again and again. He has never failed me. Why don’t you just say, “Yes” to Him, and receive Him right now.

Whoever receives him has the privilege and the authority to become a child of God. (The Bible says so.)

There is no other way to be forgiven and to know God personally. We can only come to him through Jesus Christ.

I pray that God might touch your heart and life through reading this true testimony, for nothing in here is exaggerated or a lie, but is known to be true by many people that know my story.

May God give you faith to believe that what he says is true.

I wrote the song below many years ago whist sitting on a hill overlooking beautiful countryside:

I cannot understand, O God,

How you could love someone like me;

I don’t suppose I’ll ever know

Why you should send your Son;

I do not know the reason why,

I can’t explain why he should die,

And give away his life

For all that I have said and done.

And this one thing I’ll never know

How God himself should come below,

And humble himself

As just another mortal man

And live among the people he made

The very ones for whom he prayed,

And said to them, “Come unto Me

Just as you are, you know you can!”

 

He healed the sick and raised the dead;

He took the cripple from his bed;

He sat the little children

Right there upon his knee;

He touched the blind and gave them sight;

He said ‘I am this dark world’s light’,

‘My life I freely give for you,

So hear the truth, and be made free!’

 

But still I cannot understand

How you can love me as I am;

I’m not the sort of person

That can help your work along

And heaven seems too good for me

To live for ever? endlessly?

To be forgiven and made your child?

Oh surely Lord! it just seems so wrong!

 

But I hear you give a brand new start

To any with believing heart

New life begins,

And old things are passed away;

Indwelt by heavenly energy,

The future has a hope for me,

The night has gone, the light’s come in,

The dawning of a brand new day.

 

Oh God, reach out and take my hand,

And lift me up and help me stand;

Make me the person you have wanted me to be;

Give me the faith that trusts in you,

Show me the work you’d have me do;

Transform my life, renew my heart,

Oh Jesus, live your life in me!

 

Oh God, my words can never bring

Sufficient thanks, nor can I sing

A melody or song

That shows my gratitude and love,

’Cos every time I close my eyes,

And point my thoughts toward the skies,

I hear the greatest love song

Coming down to me from heaven above…

 

‘I have loved you with an everlasting love’;

‘I have loved you with an everlasting love’:

A love that never changes

And a love that knows no end;

It’s a love that shed his blood

To make this enemy his friend!

It’s the love of Calvary;

It’s the love of God to me.

                                                  

John Masters – praying for whoever reads this book.

The Crown Flag Commission will send you a copy of the gospel of John if you email them at 2pc@crownflag.com

The Hwyl Publishing Company

6^th edition published in Great Britain

Copyright © John Masters 2023

If you wish to print this off as an evangelistic gift

email me at: john@crownflag.com

Back cover picture: The author with his oldest son Samuel.

Picture used with the kind permission of Russ Busby 

of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association