This is an excerpt from my book:
I was raised in the Baptist community. I never knew if all Baptists knew nothing of the Holy Spirit, or if it was just in this particular area. I learned, in Sunday School, to sing "Clap your hands and praise Him" but no one ever taught me how to praise. I learned "Father, Son and Holy Ghost" but no-one ever told me the Holy Spirit is a real entity, with feelings and power and comfort for me.
My little brother and I always sat on the front pew. You see, we were two unruly children. The purpose for seating us on the front pew was to keep our every move within sight of the pastor.
The congregation had recently broken away from the First Baptist Church of Raymondville and built a new small church called Wood Avenue Baptist Church. The first spring, when revival time arrived, the grownups set up a tent no more than 40 feet from our new building. They were big believers in tent meetings.
I remember standing next to my mother, watching men carry armloads of folding chairs, across to the tent where they had just finished spreading sawdust. Standing next to my mother and watching those men working, I couldn't help asking. "Mother, why, when we have this brand new church with nice pews and air-conditioning, would we set up a tent and go to all this work so we can sit every night and sweat and swat mosquitoes?" My mother answered, "Atmosphere, dear, atmosphere." I gave up. I was barely 8 years old.
Every night, during revival, my parents sat with my brother on the left side of the aisle while, my grandparents sat with me, on the right side of the aisle. My folks were very good Baptists. They didn't sit on the very last row but there sure was nobody sitting in the rows behind them.
To set the scene, I was the third chair in from the center aisle. My grandmother sat next to me and my grandpa sat on the aisle seat with his long leg stretched out in front of him. The row in front of us also had only 3 people so there was one woman sitting in front of me. There were no other occupied chairs, to my right, to the right in the row in front of me, and certainly no one behind me.
To further explain the inner workings of the Baptist service, after 1 or 2 songs, a few announcements, another song or two, the sermon begins. At the end of the sermon, the pastor motions to the pianist to begin playing, while he begins his benediction prayer. The pianist always played one of two songs: "Just as I am" or " Jesus is Calling".
The pastor gave the invitation for anyone wishing to come forward and accept Jesus. Then the dismissal prayer and if there were new family members, all would come forward to hug and shake hands and welcome the new child of God.
Every night, during the revival, it was same old boring thing for my little brother and me. For an 8 year old, it's hard to sit so still for so long, night after night. How was I to know my life was about to change. During the sermon, I sat drawing with pencil and paper. I had to have something to keep me busy (and awake).
Friday night, the last night of the revival, during the benediction prayer, I was drawing and swinging my legs, just waiting for the grownups to get finished. There came a sudden sound. It was so loud, that had it been a physical sound, it would have been the last thing I heard. It was a voice. It was coming from about the middle of the tent, against the right wall, right where the wall and roof met.
The voice said only "Judy". The odd thing about that voice is that not only did it sound more familiar than my own, it was soft spoken and gentle and yet so-so loud. It was a genderless voice more male than female, not identifiable and yet so deeply familiar. I don't remember ever thinking about standing up. I was just standing up. This was not my will at all. I stood, for a couple seconds, in shock, not really understanding what was going on. Then I felt my grandmother jerking at my skirt, and reality came back. I was being very disobedient, right in the middle of the benediction prayer. I sat down.
I thought to myself, "God is mad at me, for not paying attention. He's mad at me because I was sitting here drawing instead of bowing my head, obediently." I bowed my head and squeezed my eyes so tight that I could see stars.
The voice came again. Again I found myself standing without knowing how I got there. This time the voice said, "JUDY! COME FORTH!!" That's all.
I did not know what "come forth" meant, except for what I had seen the grownups do. I didn't know what they did, when they got up front. I didn't know what to do but I sure knew one thing.......I was going to obey. The problem was, I was 8 years old. The adults, in this church, did not allow a child under the age of 12 to accept the Lord. They called it the age of accountability. I was already getting into trouble. Grandmother was jerking at my skirt, again, and making a point to show me her temper. I sat down. I thought about it. The preacher was still praying. I had to go! How? I leaned over and said to my grandmother "I have to go to the bathroom"....always guaranteed. She whispered to grandpa, his knees went to the side, grandmother's knees went to the side and my way was clear.
Of course, I didn't go off to the bathroom. I just stood there in the aisle. Now I had another problem. "What do those people say to the preacher, when they go up there?" Then the prayer ended and all heads rose and then all faces aimed toward the center of the aisle. There was a disobedient child standing in the aisle. I was definitely gulping. By now, my mother could see what was going on. I was in big trouble. I knew it was better to be in trouble with these mortals than it was to disobey God and I knew it was He. I started walking. I wondered, all the way down the aisle, what would I say? When I finally arrived to the front of the church, standing in front of the preacher, I looked up and said the first thing that came into my mind. "I tried all day, to be nice to my brother but I just couldn't." Who can understand the mind of a child?
It was as though the pastor knew. He turned me around and said, "This is the only one coming tonight." I had been accepted. The service ended and all the people came to hug me and welcome me. The minute the last one passed by, my grandmother grabbed me by my left upper arm, my mother grabbed me by my right upper arm, they lifted me up and carried me straight over to one of the classrooms. They plopped me down on a table and began the third degree. Each woman pushed the other back, in order to take control of the situation. They shot questions at me, one and then the other. These were the questions. "Why did you do that?" "Because He told me to." "He who?" "I don't know." "Was it God?" "Sort of." "Was it Jesus?" "No." "Was it an angel?" "No." "Was it God???!!" "Sort of." "Well then was it Jesus?" "No." "Then was it an angel?!" "No." "Then who was it?" I couldn't answer.
I was 30 years old before I discovered His name. It was Holy Spirit. Had they taught me about Him, I could have answered their questions.
The following Sunday night, I was baptised, which told me the church had accepted me.In our little church, until you reached the age of accountability, you were expected to be quiet, not to poke your nose is grownup dealings, not to join in communion until you were saved, which of course, you were expected to do promptly at the age of 12. During communion, as the plate was passed around, children were expected to hold the plate for the elders, while they took bread. The Sunday after I was saved, I reached for one of the crumbs only to have my hand slapped by my grandmother. (She had not accepted me.) From that day forward, I sat on my hands when the plate passed by. I refused to touch the tools of these dead sinners. My thoughts were, "How dare you prevent me from my Father's table?" Something no one had ever taught me. God had planted that in me, that night. God planted many things into me that night.
Within months, after this incident, my parents packed all their belongings and moved us all to Albuquerque, NM. My father looked forward to better work opportunities.
Acts 13:2 As they ministered to the Lord, and fasted, the Holy Ghost said, Separate me Barnabas and Saul for the work whereunto I have called them.
John 16:13 Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth: for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak: and he will shew you things to come.
