In July 1962 I went on holiday again to Douglas in the Isle of Man. I had just won a lot of money on the roulette wheel in Bolton and because of my change in fortune decided to join some younger lads to this old haunt. On the second day of my holiday, I decided to try to follow this winning streak on the roulette wheel in the local casino in Douglas. I lost all the money I had gained in Bolton and spent the rest of the week borrowing from my friends.
Later in the week, we gathered in a hotel in Douglas for our usual drinking session. As I sat there I began to feel an intense hate for the hotel and all it stood for. The hotel lounge was heaving with people and in a moment of madness picked up pint glass and threw it through one of the hotel windows. The pub began to empty quickly until the manager shouted for all to stay where they were until the police arrived. I did not care and when the police did arrive and question the scores of people in the lounge I still did not care what happened to me.
When the police came to our table my four young friends protested their innocence and after about an hour we were allowed to leave. This brief account of my life sums up the kind of aimless life I was leading and the kind of person I had become. On my return home things continued as before; daily work, the local pub, the local dance hall on a Saturday, Casino on a Sunday, borrowing and paying back and generally squandering all the money I earned. In the meantime in the dye works where I worked I began to hear and notice one of the work’s mechanics who was going around claiming to have ‘seen the Light.’
On a memorable day sometime in 1963 whilst working at the Dye Works I left the stenter to go outside for a break and a smoke. The man who had seen the ‘light,’ Ernie Westwell, was halfway up a factory chimney doing some maintenance work. It was a lovely sunny day and in jest I shouted up to Ernie that it was about time ‘He’ sent us some of this sunshine, Ernie was down the ladder in double quick time to share ‘his life-transforming experience.’ I cannot remember what he said to me on that day, but this encounter was the first of many over the next two or so years.
Initially, Ernie listened to me ranting on about Christians being a load of hypocrites and my belief in some kind of reincarnation. However, as the months passed by I began to warm to Ernie mainly because of his humour and the fact that, for the first time in my life, someone cared about me and my problems. All the preconceived barriers about Ernie and my prejudicial views of Christianity were broken down, such as the ‘holy Joe’ image which had been promoted by many in the factory and I began to learn that Ernie was no hypocrite.
Slowly over a period of many months, the things Ernie said about the Bible began to make sense. Ernie would often pull out his grease-stained New Testament out of his grubby overall pocket and quote the scriptures to me. I had at that time a kind of split personality. When talking with Ernie I felt different and acted differently. When I was with my macho work colleagues, like the chameleon, I changed colours, especially the colour of my language. I remember on one occasion sitting on a bench in the stenter room next to Arthur. Arthur was a friend of mine who liked to show off his muscles and we often engaged in acts of proving who was the strongest.
As we sat together on the bench Ernie approached us, and as Arthur made some derogatory comment under his breath Ernie handed me a book entitled ‘Peace with God.’ It was then that I really did change colour, a bright red! This embarrassing clash of conflicting allegiances became a turning point in my attitude towards Ernie and the Christian faith. On another occasion we were having problems on the stenter; the cloth had come out of the clips which meant yards and yards were ruined and whilst I was ranting and raving and cursing and swearing at the lady who was supposed to be watching it Ernie’s head appeared round the corner of the stenter, he was smiling which left me grimacing with embarrassment at my treatment of this lady old enough to be my mother.
Again my hypocrisy was exposed. It was events like this which exposed sides of my character which I was blind to. One day Ernie came up to me and told me that a friend of his had seen me staggering up Bolton Street, drunk. At one time, being told about being drunk in the street would not have bothered me, but now I was beginning to be concerned about these double standards. Deep conviction. Another ‘never to be forgotten moment’ in my conversations with Ernie is extremely vivid in my memory. For me personally to try and live the Christian life was a sheer impossibility. To leave my pleasures and live a life of church going and commitment to a few odd folks in a renovated Co-op building down in Summerseat was not going to happen.
However, on this occasion, Ernie told me that being a Christian first and foremost was to believe. I remember saying to myself ‘I believe’ and there was such a wonderful surge of joy within me, but at the same time one of fear for I knew then that my sins would have to go, but at that particular moment I was not willing to forsake my sins. It is hard to remember the sequence of events, but I do remember this time going into the Royal Oak, ordering my pint of ale, and sitting down to join my friends. I only had a mouthful of that drink before a deep conviction of sin came over me.
I felt utterly wretched; I heard the bad language and profanities of the tap room as never before. My friends were asking me if I was not well and for the first time in all my drinking sessions I got up, walked out, and left a full glass of beer. I made my way home and just sat in the armchair for the rest of the evening with an intense feeling of guilt. The following day the feeling of guilt had passed and I was planning for the weekend. It was not long before the feeling of guilt returned. Going into a licensed club somewhere in Bolton the guilt was as acute as ever, probably because the club had once been a chapel. I then embarked on a period of trying to reform myself. I succeeded in stopping smoking with the help of a few packets of mint imperials I also began to drink less.
Over the course of a few weeks, I managed to break off my relationship with the girl I had met at the local dance hall. Breaking off this relationship was not easy. She did not know literally whether I was coming or going. One day I would break it off, the next day I would be on her doorstep asking to see her again. I explained to her that I was being challenged by the claims of Christ and the Bible, to which she said that we could both start going to church, the problem was that she and her family were Roman Catholics with little concept of what following Christ really meant. On the Friday of the 14th of October 1964 Ernie once again invited me to the Sunday service in Summerseat, not very enthusiastically I might add as he was slowly giving up hope by now.
On the 15th of October, I went to the Bolton Casino on Crompton Way and lost what remaining money I had. I was twenty-four years old, in full-time work with not a penny to my name. On the 16th of October, Sunday afternoon, I sauntered down to the old Co-op building and plucking up courage joined those odd folk that I had for so long struggled to avoid. A new beginning. When I joined the congregation in Summerseat on that Sunday afternoon there were no spiritual fireworks or spiritual flashing neon lights. I do not even remember anything of the sermon. After the service, I made it clear to the Pastor and others that I was not far from the Kingdom of God, although looking back I realise that my entry into the kingdom was probably on the day I first believed.
The Lord Himself, in His grace and mercy, took away the worldly idols that had prevented me from embracing the new life of obedience He was patiently offering in Christ. The work of revealing eternal and spiritual realities had achieved the desired goal. Instances of the work of God in my soul were many and there are experiences which I will never forget. Being told that Christ is going to return in a moment and the twinkling of an eye one day had me in great perplexity and fear, fear that I would be left behind. Being told that all the hidden things that I had done in my life would be shouted from the housetops on the day of judgement left me with no place to hide.
The gospel from Ernie’s lips came not just in word only, but in power and demonstration of the Holy Spirit. Praise His Name! On the following day, Monday, came the challenge that I was not exactly relishing. However, confessing Christ before my work colleagues was not as bad as I had feared. I told my lady work colleague, the lady previously mentioned in the cursing swearing episode, and from there the whole factory of two to three hundred knew of my conversion within the day. Bessie, by the way, became a Christian a few years later.
For me a new life had begun, a life of learning to forsake the idols of this world and live for Christ and see the fulfilment of the perplexing question asked of Jesus by his disciples; “Who then can be saved?” But Jesus looked at them and said to them,” With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” Next year will be the 50th anniversary of the Lord’s wonderful intervening grace in granting me repentance and faith. Praise His Name!
Try God.
Also Read:
- Men in the Bible: A Man of Considerable Goodwill
- The Myth of Omnipresence (1): The 5 Places God Always Is
- Overwhelmed
- Great Truths Adults Learned
- I Passed a Professional Exam and Got a Job After 10 Years
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