When I first came to God almost twenty nine years ago, I left the past of the gross darkness of drug abuse, witchcraft, strife, and outlaw motorcycle club activities behind to maintain the simple joy of following Jesus in obedience with singleness of mind.

Everything was revelant to his word, prayer and witnessing which I gave myself to continually, because abiding in the Holy Spirit was everything. To please the Heavenly Father was my main desire. He so lovely exchanged my ashes for newness of life, and being able to share Jesus with others was my dying prayer that God answered on a night when my life should have been cut off. One week after being born again I was a multiple gunshot and stabbing victim on the streets of Houston. I was shot and stabbed, leaving 29 wounds, and it was God's grace that spared my life through a number of miracles.

I never stood in the ashes to brag how Jesus saved me from the big bad biker world (or from the loneliness in my room for that matter).

I didn't track the smut onto new ground with the church. However, since God advanced my testimony in 1974 to reach well over three million souls internationally, I was asked on many occasions to give my testimony. The door that God opened for me to share my testimony wasn't restricted to any one dominational church. God opened the doors of ministry to people in Independent Gospel ministries, Methodist, Baptist, Catholic, Pentecostal, Church of God, Church of Christ, Assemblies of God, Charismatic churches, Full Gospel churches and camp meetings.

It was very humbling to be so young, yet finding myself ministering at camp meetings where on one occasion alone hundreds of youths came forward to give themselves to Jesus. While at other camp meetings, my testimony was being shared to over 26,000 people in one service, with the Governor of Louisiana and other well known Senators in attendance.

In every case where I was asked to speak, I allowed the Lord to direct my thoughts and words. In some speaking engagements all that came forth from me was the quoted word and praises, until God's Spirit swept over the congregation with an out pouring of His Spirit. At times like these I didn't even get to share my testimony, but that was ok with me. God's will comes first.

But if I didn't tell my testimony or some bad to the bone story, some Christians voiced their disappointment that I didn't go into such.

In many cases I would simply explain, "Sister. There are no details. I am a new creature in Christ Jesus. I don't step in the ashes of my past to track it into God's presence, else I'd dirty your shoes! All things are new! I only speak what God gives me to speak."

Even still, many wanted the details. The dirt. The gore. The strutting' stuff and the "glorious" smut!

I realized early on that some churches in that day seemed to want 40 minutes of testimony on the glory smut of how bad I was, and five minutes of the word. Many Pastors called on me, and from the sound of their expectations they were banking on the idea that my testimony alone would draw the drugies and long hairs to flock like sheep for watering.

I came into the church world a few months apart from when Jesse Duplantis did, and many churches seemed to be caught up in the sensationalism of his story and my miracle story that had made headlines. Speaking offers were pouring in from every state of the union and from many foreign countries such as Sydney Australia, Paris France, West Berlin Germany, Mexico, Japan and other places.

I was turning down offers to be on TV because the issue of using TV to spread the Gospel was a debatable subject among many holiness churches at the time.

I had six paid off churches offered to me from pastors ready to retire, all within the short span of a year. I was only about that old in the Lord, but many didn't consider being a novice, in my case, that much of a hold back.

I had what they wanted; an anointed ministry of the Lord that brought on salvational results with miracle healings, a sensational story, dedication, some college, and lots of godly zeal to witness. Of course I was also conformed to the mode of how a preacher was thought to dress and conduct the professional image of a pastor.

While the saints wanted the glory smut, to the sinner on the street it meant little to nothing, if Jesus wasn't seen and felt in the one bringing the message.

Christians would often stop me in such places like Walgreens and Piggly Wiggly to ask for my autograph. Because my face was well known from flyers, testimony tracks and camp meetings, sometimes crowds of Christians would draw around me in a grocery aisle, and the manager would have to ask over the loud speaker that the aisle be cleared.

In most cases, the employees and the unchurched always stopped to take notice too.

Managers and cashiers along with shoppers often asked, "Hey mister. Who are you anyway?" My answers, of course, always differed, but it always lead to a witness such as, "I am born of the Holy Spirit and it is Jesus they seek to see. I am just a child of God. Do you know Jesus? May I introduce you?"

While the worldly ones scurried for the word that flowed openly from me, the church world scurried for the details of my past washed out life. But I was washed anew in the blood of Jesus! Clean! No stains!

There were no fond acid trip memories of traces of demons posing as chickens on the wall that I wanted to share at that time; no hard core sex orgies; no fond FBI arrests; no beloved and cherished thoughts on how I wanted to kill my dad in his sleep; no prideful puffed images how I was a leader of a motorcycle club; there was only the pure, undefiled, singleness of mind "first love" of Christ shed abroad in my heart!

After six months in the church and after my wounds were completely healed, the way was paved in the will of God to attend Texas Bible College in Houston. I had thrown my old acid rock record collection, worth hundreds of dollars, into a fire. However, I loved listening to Elvis Presley’s gospel record and kept that one. One morning while the record was playing I was moved in my soul to pray that Elvis would give his whole soul and talents to Jesus.

At the time I had mixed emotions whether or not the humble prayer of a financially poor Bible student could effect the life of one so rich and famous. I questioned, "Lord, is it really going to do any good?" His answer was simply the words, "It's according to your faith." I went ahead in intercessory prayer for Elvis like he was a member of the family.

Later that evening Jesus led me to the streets again, on old Broadway in South Houston. The Lord had made Broadway my mission ground and I could scarcely go a mile on that street without pulling over to witness Jesus’ love and his word to someone.

Broadway stretches on for miles and many people walk each side of the road. Usually, the things I witnessed that went on there were miraculous to say the least but, between Jesus and I, we kept that our little secret. If one of the students asked, "What have you been up to?" I'd usually just respond, "Oh, about 5 foot eight, Praise Jesus, he’s good!"

To share too much along the lines of my daily soul winning efforts could seem to some as appearing spiritual in a show off fashion. I wanted to avoid that appearance. There were students in my college from all types of backgrounds and places across the U.S. and overseas. There was one thing I noticed among the student body that disturbed me. There seemed to be an overall lack of concern for lost souls. I never saw anyone witnessing for Christ, nor was that subject hardly mentioned among the groups that gathered in social circles. Instead there were many balloon fights and alot of talk about "girls" among many of the male students. Most were preacher's kids and their carnality surprised me.

The game room and lounge were always filled while our men's prayer room had a spider web across the entrance when I first entered the room. It had been six months into the college year. I had not personally utilized the dorm prayer room during that time because I spent my prayer time in my dorm closet, or at a local church that had a 24 hour prayer room. This brought on a burden for my college and along with praying for lost souls, I began secretly praying for the complaisant believers as well. I asked God to put "a pleasant fire" with the desire to witness Jesus into everyone! I asked God to make my college a soul winning college!

In the mean time I continued reaching to the street gangs, walking the back alleys of the poor and I was ready to act on my calling without advertisement.

My mission became nearly a full time job, involving souls receiving salvation on the streets, with many healings taking place with praise reports going on right on the curb. I was invited to many households for Bible studies, and in some instances I ministered just outside of bars and gang hangouts because the Lord was guiding me and I wasn't afraid to go anywhere. On one occasion four out of eight adult gang members, from a pool hall, checked out the church I had recommended and all four went to the altar in repentance and were filled with God's Spirit!

Many of the street people thought I was a pastor trying to promote a church, but when they realized I was just a student that cared, many started giving gifts and offerings. The most common gifts were pawn tickets on expensive merchandise for a fraction of the costs, jewelry, clothes, pocket change and hot meals at restaurants and homes.

I wasn't looking for material goods or cash, but I knew if I didn't learn to humbly receive their offerings, how could I truly learn to give? It’s a two way street. Some would easily take offense if I didn't accept their humble costume jewelry or the such, and would think that I thought of myself above them.

If it wasn't practical or useful to me I'd turn around down the street and give many gifts to someone else who could use them. Such was the case with an expensive clarinet. I was given the instrument early in the evening after being some distance from my car on an unbeaten path. I had grown tired of explaining, "No man, I'm not a musician", to all the long hairs when asked, "Do you play?" It was a big let down for them. They see a preacher carrying a horn and they expect you to play!

I questioned the Lord about it and he shortly thereafter showed me a stranger hanging clothes and said, “Give it to her. Tell her: “Jesus provides.” When I did so, her mouth dropped open and her praises to God were loudly heard. The low-income mother had been praying for a clarinet so her young daughter could play in the school band!

The word of my testimony really spread to the street gangs after I stopped to pick up two long haired Latinos whom appeared to need a ride. The Lord immediately told me what their plan was. It was their intent to rob me of my money and car.

He told me to SHOUT as soon as they both were seated. As they squeezed up next to me in the front seat of my '72 Chevy I shouted, "WELL GLORY TO GOD. THANK YOU JESUS FOR ANOTHER ROBBERY! LET ME SHARE HOW JESUS SPARED ME FROM MULTIPLE BULLETS AND KNIVES!"

They both jerked by the shock of my loud voice and the word of knowledge by the Spirit of God. They became motionless with a startled look of fright on their faces. God had arrested them in their plans! They became uneasy and began quivering in their seats by the strong presence of God that filled my car!

The one next to me with the knife kept looking back at the other with a look like: "What have we got ourselves into?"

I lowered my voice and took the opportunity to calmly share the word equipped within my life and death personal testimony. The whole time I spoke they seemed frozen to the seat.

The inspiration of God was so strong upon me I stopped abruptly and let out another shout of loud praise! The knife was then slung from the man's hand! It stayed on the floor board as the one by the door attempted to hide it by covering it with his foot.

I glanced over at the gang members with a smile and said, "You know what I mean man? Jesus is real! You guys need some money and a car don't ya? Well, Jesus can provide for those needs. Saint Peter once needed money to pay the taxes, so Jesus told Peter to catch a fish. When he did, the fish had an expensive coin in it's mouth which paid all the bills. Jesus can show you where that fish is, but it's not me-and it's not by robbery that you will prosper! Put your trust in the Lord!"

The tears began to roll down the man's cheek that sat next to me. He reached and picked the slung knife from off the floorboard and gave it to me. He ask me to keep it, because it would only get him into trouble.

As much as the man wanted to, he couldn't cut me. He didn't even try! I knew there was a point when he wanted to because I later discovered cuts in the seat upholstery where he sat.

When I took them to their destination they both hugged my neck. Their names were Fuzzy and Lead Belly. As they were leaving, Fuzzy, the one with the knife, came back to thank me again, saying, "Never in my life man,...never has anyone told me about Jesus with so much love. I can feel him in you man. Keep doing what you do and I'll make sure the home boys know to leave you alone!"

Soon after, I was invited out for a free meal by a college friend. Many others crowded into his car and we took off to Howard Johnsons. As we walked in, I found Fuzzy and Lead Belly sitting and eating ice cream. There were also other members of their club at their table. Surprised, yet glad to see me, they introduced me to the other club members as: "the shouting preacher who was shot and stabbed man, you know... the one we told you about". I was invited to sit with them and ended up spending the whole time sitting with the cons instead of the Christians. I never got to order my free meal, but that never bothered me.

I was delighted to share with the gang as they began to ask questions about the book of Revelation. Their hearts opened to the Lord as Fuzzy and Lead Belly, along with another member of their club, prayed on the spot for salvation! They were saved in a Howard Johnsons restaurant! Lead Belly then wanted to give a testimony, explaining how he now knew why he had survived being gut-shot. He gave God the glory for his life being spared. He was excited with the thought of being a witness for Jesus.

So many types of these occurrences happened while witnessing Jesus. On two occasions stores were robbed while witnessing to store clerks, and because I had to stay for the Police report that meant getting back to the dorm late. But in one of those occasions it was well worth it because a store employee and a customer turned to the Lord in prayer, after being argumentive before the robbery. Facing possible death at the point of a gun after giving my testimony of being spared from the gun, made their immediate need for God real to them. (continue to next page)

Evangelism 101 © Copyright 2001 ~ by Chaplain Scott
All rights reserved to www.chaplainscott.com

Written Feb. 1, 2001.
Non commercial copies only permitted with copyright notice.
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