I grew up in Christian home. I was dedicated as a child by parents who were from a Baptist tradition. Throughout my childhood I attended Sunday school and one of my fondest memories was one group we attended where lots of sweets seemed to be on offer! I remember collecting stickers, bookmarks and the occasional Christian book award. I cannot say that faith particularly impacted my day-to-day life as a child. Church was just what our family did.

I have an older brother, and I would like to hang out with him when he let me. There was an event in town, which I later learned was put on by Youth for Christ. It was some way from our home, but they had laid on an old double decker bus to pick people up. My brother was going so I decided to tag along. It took the form of a concert by a young musician called Graham Kendrick and an equally young evangelist called Clive Calver. I recall it was packed and most of the people there were a lot older than me.

I have always connected with music and I guess that today I would be described as an ‘audio’. That is someone who has a particular attraction to, and engagement with, any musical form – I love singing. So that evening I was not really engaged by the speaker, it was the musician who captured my attention. And one particularly song, entitled ‘How much do you think you are worth?’, was the Spirit’s opportunity to work in my heart, and the gospel truth’s being sung penetrated my soul – as I listened, I prayed quietly to
myself and surrendered my life to Christ.

It is interesting to note that, although I was only 12 or 13 years old, I had probably heard countless presentations of the Christian message through the many bible stories and teachings, and the church messages I had sat through as a child in Sunday school and adult services. Yet none of this had impacted my life in any way. It seems that the Spirit had chosen this moment to quicken my heart to the truths of the gospel message. No doubt many readers will relate to this in their own story.

After the concert I was excited. Lots of people were milling around and I wanted to tell someone about the prayer of commitment I had said but there was no obvious person to speak to or tell – so I kept it to myself. As we walked home quite late in the evening, I noticed a can lying in the road. Almost instinctively, I took aim and kicked it down the street to some effect. Immediately, I felt a pang of conscience and remorse about it – perhaps I should not have done that, I am a Christian now – sorry Lord.

Fast forward to the age of 16 and I was in a very different place. My passion for music had led me to develop a taste for progressive rock music that was very prevalent in the 70s and early 80s. I did not think of myself as a Christian and went along to church very reluctantly. I had concluded that Christians were just nice people, and it was not for me. In fact, I had accepted an apprenticeship with the Royal Air Force and anticipated that I would leave home that summer after my exams.

My brother was a Spirit filled Christian, and his girlfriend was from a strong Christian family. They asked if that summer I would like to join them at a Christian camp that her family attended. This did not really appeal but as I was dependent on my brother’s goodwill to listen to my records on his player, I decide to say yes just to stay in his good books!

I recall arriving at the event and a smiling women came over to our car with a tray of squash. I groaned inside at the prospect of the 5 or so days I was about to spend with these overtly nice people. However, things took a dramatic turn because as the event got underway, I increasingly came under what I now recognise was the conviction of the Holy Spirit. At the time I had no clue – but my brother had taken me to a Pentecostal Christian bible week, quite central to what became known as the charismatic renewal in the UK!

This was quite different to how I felt before, when I gave my heart to Christ at the concert. This was overbearing and I struggled like a fish caught on a line. A battle was raging in my soul. Again, I now realise that in the years following that earlier commitment, Satan had got his hooks into me, and he was not going to give me up to Christ without a fight. As believers, we must fully understand that Satan is utterly tenacious in his determination to keep every single soul from eternal salvation.

By the Tuesday of the event things came to a head. I was sat in the evening meeting, and an American pastor was preaching the longest sermon that I had ever heard in my life (about Amos and his plumbline, I recall). I was not interested at all – instead, my inner conflict continued unabated, and it seemed like God was saying to me that this was decision time – I must choose to either go my own way (I thought about my imminent escape from all things Christian by joining the Air Force) or make the decision to live as a
Christian. The problem was, I did not feel that I had the strength nor the inner resources to live a ‘good’ Christian life.

The American guy finally stopped preaching, and the host evangelist of the event stood up and did what all good evangelists will do on any given occasion – hold an alter call for salvation. I made my decision, I decided I simply could not turn my back on God, so I went forwards in response to the call – I decided I would have to give being a Christian another shot.

I found myself in a prayer tent with a guy who happened to be the lead maintenance worker for the event. I briefly told him about my earlier commitment to Christ and the intervening years. In a very matter of fact way, he led me through a prayer of recommitment. He then said he was going to pray for me to receive the gift of tongues. Prior to this event I had no experience of the gift of tongues but had heard people using it in the meetings, as it was a regular feature of Pentecostal worship. He explained that he would start to speak in tongues, and I was to simply copy the sounds he was making.

The split second I moved my lips I burst into tongues. Then, what can only be described as an utter tsunami of love washed over me – I collapsed in heap and sobbed my heart out. Then the laughing started – I just could not stop laughing, I was overwhelmed with joy and felt utterly clean inside. My experience was exactly as Wesley had penned centuries earlier – ‘My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose went forth and followed Thee’.

To this day I do not know if that moment was my actual salvation (as opposed to the earlier commitment I had made), or if it was the time that I received the baptism in the Holy Spirit, which is so prominent in Pentecostal theology. What I can say is that nothing was the same in my life after that experience. I floated out of the prayer tent convinced that I could take on the world for Christ. I remember that night, as I settled down in my sleeping bag, saying over and over again to myself, I am going to live my life for you Jesus.