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Circle of Influence: Ron's Faith Journey- Part 1
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Circle of Influence: Ron's Faith Journey- Part 1

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Hi friends!  On today’s episode of Draw Near to Me, we will begin Ron’s faith journey.  For those who prefer to read, today’s content is also posted below.  I first met Ron many years ago when I felt called to go on my first mission trip.  It was a small group of 7 people total that were heading out to Kenya and Uganda.  Ever since that trip, Ron has been one of the main people in my life that I can truly say helped me be where I am today.  He has so much wisdom, concern for others, and has guided me through some of the really hard challenges of my life.  Honestly, I think he is that person for so many people.  He has encouraged me, helped me to grow, and spoken hard truth to me over the years, but only after careful consideration of what the Spirit was asking him to share.  He is a man after God’s heart. I have the added bonus of having his wife in my life as well.  They are family and even baptized me while on mission in Panama.  Ron is truly a godly man, humble, and kind. Perhaps another little known fun fact about Ron to sprinkle in is that he makes a mean shrimp and grits! Thank you, Ron, for being willing to share part of your story.  Since this is a man’s testimony, Jeff, my husband, will be the voice for Ron’s story.  If you enjoy this post, please share it with others using the share button below and consider doing a free or paid subscription.  With that, let’s dive into Ron’s story. Enjoy!

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I’d like to begin with my perspective during this season of my life.  Currently, I’m 66 years old.  If you look at the average American lifespan, males live until somewhere in their 70s.  Even the Bible talks about 70 years as a promise of sorts, so anything above that is kind of like gravy.  The fact of the matter is that even if I have the best health in the world, and lived to be 100, I’m still no longer at the beginning of my life. 

Since I no longer have my whole life ahead of me, I need to focus on my desires for the last 20 yards of my time here.  With that realization, my motivations have changed.  I know I have limited space and time to have as much impact for the Kingdom as I can.  So, that’s where I currently am with my sense of urgency for my ministry and what I’d like to see.  Now, let’s leapfrog back to the beginning to see what brought me to where I am today.

I was born in Alabama in 1957 to two loving parents.  I spent my first few little formative years in a town called Bainbridge, GA.  I remember it was a very happy place in my life.  At the time, my parents were happily married and there was no substance abuse in their lives.  I had a younger sister, but my brother was not yet born. 

When I was in first grade, my parents suddenly uprooted my sister and I and moved us to Jacksonville.  It felt very abrupt to me.  We left my happy place to be closer to my maternal grandparents.  My parents began arguing and fighting.  My mother went from having a social drink with the neighbors to full blown alcoholism. 

Years later, when I was maybe about 10 years old, my grandmother sat me down and told me something that happened in Bainbridge.  While we were living there, my father, who was a really good artist, did portraits of people.  Apparently he spent many hours together with a lady doing her portrait.  That eventually led to an affair.  Looking back, it put some of the puzzle pieces together.  It now made more sense why we got up and left Bainbridge so unexpectedly.  I believe that was also probably when my mother went from just having a drink every now and then to drinking more heavily. 

However, at the time we left Bainbridge I was only maybe 7 or 8.  All I knew was that I was going from Happyville to not so Happyville.  The arguments began to wrap around my mother’s addiction to alcohol.  There were many, many nights of fighting, and things being thrown around the house.  I was in fear and my world felt like it was crumbling and coming apart. 

Fortunately for my sister, brother, and me, God blessed us with wonderful grandparents.  Both my fraternal and maternal grandparents were four great people.  They were all Christians and only wanted the best for us.  Two of them lived in Jacksonville and the other two lived in Tampa.  I spent years of my life being in one of those two places.  I would get bussed back and forth between Tampa and Jacksonville to live with my grandparents in the summers.  I don’t know what would have happen to my character development if it had not been for them, particularly my grandfathers.  

For many years, when I was between 7 to 10 years old, I grew up witnessing many situations where my grandparents had to step in.  Whether it be financial assistance to my family or simply needing a way to heat the house, they were there to provide.  Back in those days we heated our house with fuel, so when it ran out you got cold.  I remembered being very cold and the next thing I knew my grandfather would pull up front with a truck full of fuel and take care of us.

My maternal grandfather, my granddaddy Hendricks, was a deacon in this little church.  It was in the Arlington area of Jacksonville and was called Arlington Baptist Church.  Granddaddy Hendricks was always, always pointing me to the cross.  Whenever I stayed at his house, I was going to church.  It wasn’t an option.  When I was a young teenager, I really wasn’t having much of it, but he didn’t care what I thought about whether I wanted to go or not.  I was going.   When I was with him, Granddaddy Hendricks often shared Jesus with me.  He would then look at me and say, “Son, I’m praying for you every day.”   Granddaddy meant it. 

When I lived at his house, I passed his bedroom every night as I went to bed.  Even though he was a big man and had serious health problems, I saw him kneeling at the side of his bed as I looked through the doorway.  Each time I knew he was praying for me.  That had an effect on me. 

By this time in my life, my father, who was a good man, was not in the picture very much.  He joined the merchant seamen and was gone most of the time.  So, Granddaddy Hendricks just swooped in and filled that role in a big way.  He was the man in my life that helped me get my first real job and my first car.  He even helped me put headers on it.  Granddaddy was very persistent and loving throughout. 

One Sunday, in the middle of all the craziness and confusion in my life, I remember going to granddaddy’s church.  Reverend Green was preaching this sermon and then gave an altar call.  The church started playing Just As I Am, just like Billy Graham used to do. 

I sat there and thought, “I ain’t going up there.  I ain’t going up there.”  Well, the next thing I know I’m up there crying my eyeballs out.  I know that night it was the real thing.  I had surrendered to Christ. 

Back in those days, if you went to a little Baptist church and said yes to “Jesus” one week, they were going to baptize you the next week.  Sure enough, I was told to come early the next Sunday.  The next week I was baptized.

Even though I gave my life to Christ, there was an obstacle in my walk with Him.  The main problem was that I did not know the people in this little church.  While many had grown up going there since kindergarten, I had not.   As a result, I guess the best way to describe it was cliquish. The end result was that I never got connected.  I may have gone a couple more times and then I went on back home.  After that I pretty much never went back to church.  It had such a significant impact that even now, as an elder at my church, that is one of the number one things I try to guard against because I remember what that felt like. 

I was no longer going to church, and I was back to living at home with my mom.  There were a lot of painful memories being made when I was there.  At that age, it became very embarrassing to have my buddies come over, spend the night, and see what was going on in our lives with my mom’s drinking.  It was hard in general. 

One time we were living in an apartment complex and my mom was intoxicated again.  She was so drunk that the next thing we knew she wound up next door.  It was a mess.  My grandparents were notified and came into the situation to rescue us out of that.  It was just a cycle.  A vicious cycle.  My mother had her demons, but she never really shook them.  Later in life, she did sort of sober up, but it was always her cross to bear.

By the time I was 14 years old, I could no longer take it.  I did not want to live with my mother anymore.  So, I gathered my things, and I left home.

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