Pulpit Truth
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new "2 Corinthians 5:17 Thirty-five years. Thirty-five incredible years. 1983, for me, slowly evolved into a very good year, a life changing year, a year that altered my dreams, my destiny, my desires, and my devotion. It was the year that I would meet a beautiful young lady who would gently, yet firmly, share the truth of Jesus Christ with me. It was the year that I would hear her witness, and eventually pray for God's grace to be real in my own despicable life. Thirty-five years. Thirty-five incredible years of walking with Jesus. Thirty-five years... In June of 1983, I had no idea that I would soon be a student at Mississippi State University. My life began to unravel during my final year of high school. This unraveling spun totally out of control as a Freshman seeking to find my way at the first university that I attended. I say that I was a Freshman, but I actually began my experience of higher education as a Sophomore, as I had received advanced credit for all of my core Freshman courses based upon my ACT score. I accepted an academic scholarship that covered all of my tuition, books, room and board, along with a meal plan for dining in the school cafeteria. This university had very high expectations for me as a student, and I was about to royally disappoint them. My first semester was more or less uneventful as I was trying to adjust to my new surroundings. By the time classes resumed in January, I realized there was much more to college life than classes, homework, tests and term papers. I decided I should make a few corrections to my lifestyle as the semester ended very poorly, but changes externally didn't produce any internal adjustments. My second year would not be finalized, as I was given an ultimatum during the spring semester by the Dean of Students to either withdraw from all my classes and leave the school voluntarily, or be expelled and escorted away by campus police. He said that I had twenty-four hours to make up my mind, but I decided before leaving the building to sign the necessary documents, gather my belongings, and head for home. To be perfectly honest, I do not have any recall as to the reaction of my family. They knew the circumstances, and I'm sure their hearts were broken over my foolish choices and decisions. But it was the spring of the year - an extremely busy season in the Mississippi Delta - and I resumed my position on the farm. I began to work again for my two uncles, which I had been doing since I was about age twelve. Returning home and working didn't solve my problems, however, as they just intensified with a steady paycheck. Now I had those finances that at one time hindered me from fulfilling much of my wicked desires. With money in my pockets, I could expand my horizons when it came to searching for new adventures, usually entailing wild parties, loud music, ample liquor, illegal drugs, and plenty of loose women. It was also amazing how many friends I amassed with my ability of foot the bill. Like the prodigal in Luke 15, I hand plenty of friends, as long as I had plenty of money. It seems that with each decision that I would make, circumstances did not get any better, they only got worse. Uncomfortable encounters with family, as well as with the law, would cause me to make promises that I could not keep. The book of Proverbs says, "As a dog returns to his own vomit, so a fool returns to his folly." My life was a perfect example of that eternal truth. In the first few weeks of 1983, I befriended a man several years older than I, and he quickly introduced me to new companions that carried me deeper into the darkness. There were times when we struck out on the trail for new experiences with the wrong crowd, that would have me absent from my family and from my job for days at a time. Funny how working with family always keeps the door of employment open for you, when you really should have been fired. Some of these adventures I can barely remember. I vaguely recall where we planned to go, but I cannot recollect if we ever made it to our destination, what happened while we were there, and how we made it back home. Life during that time was like a dense fog, and how I lived through it is a testimony of God's mercy. June, 1983, as far as I can remember, is when my precious Mom finally had enough of me and my ways. I had broken her heart too many times. She confronted me in the garage with anger, fear, love and rage all mixed together. With her hands on my shoulders, she shook me as best she could, crying and saying, "I don't know where you'll go and what you'll do, but you've got six weeks to get out of my house! I can't take this anymore!" I looked at her beautiful face, all red with emotion and covered in tears, jerked her hands off of me, and walked inside. To be totally honest, I wanted to hit her. As I pondered this encounter, I knew I had to make plans, but I couldn't think of anything. I didn't know it then, but Mom was practicing tough love on me before James Dobson ever wrote a book about it. Before the dust settled from this episode, I came home from work one day to find out that a dear friend from high school was going to be home for a few days from Mississippi State, and she wanted to see me. Lisa had done quite well at MSU. Good grades, really popular, school beauty, Homecoming Queen, etc., and this girl wanted to see me while she was home. I got ready as fast as possible and drove at breakneck speed to Scott, Mississippi. In the midst of my excitement, I had forgotten that Lisa was a Jesus girl, and as soon as I got reacquainted with her, she began preaching to me about my lifestyle. The audacity of that girl, for if there was one thing I really despised, it was anyone meddling in my life and preaching to me! Oh well, as beautiful as she was, I could endure her sermons for the opportunity to just look at her. In the midst of those few visits with Lisa, she talked at length about me trying to get back in school, and making a fresh start at MSU. Since I had the ultimatum from my Mom, with a time frame of getting out of her house, I decided to take Lisa's advice and call the number that she gave me about transferring to State. The lady on the phone had a nice voice and was very kind. When I told her the reason for my call, she informed me that I had just missed the deadline for applying as a transfer student. My heart sank, but then she said, "I tell you what, I will mail you an application today, but promise me to fill it out and mail it back the same day that you receive it. That means that you need to secure a copy of your transcript from your previous college, so that you can be ready to send it back to me on the very same day. You promise me that you'll do this?" I assured her that I would, and she bid me a pleasant farewell. When I got off the phone, I immediately began to wonder what kind of response she would have to my transcript. I thought surely she would burst out laughing and show everyone in the office what kind of idiot I was for trying to enroll at MSU. But since I promised her I would do it, I thought, oh well, it won't hurt anything to try. July, 1983. To my utter amazement, I received a positive letter from MSU not long after I mailed the requested material to the Office of Enrollment. I had failed to meet the deadline, my transcript was atrocious, and yet I was reading an acceptance letter that opened with this word in all caps: CONGRATULATIONS! As I continued reading, my heart sank. Yes, I had been accepted, but it was on a probationary status, and only about twelve hours of course work would be accepted. Plus, all of the advanced credit for the core Freshman courses were deemed unacceptable. As I read the letter, I thought, "Well this is just dandy, I'm 21 years old and will have to sit in classrooms alongside immature teenagers with zits and fake ID's." But at least I had the problem solved as to where I'd go, and what I'd be doing, even before my Mom's tearful deadline had come to pass. To read the rest of this story click here
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