- “A QUEST TO KNOW
GOD”
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- New Birth
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- I have known from a very young age that there was a
call of God on my life. When I was ten years old, I
confessed Jesus as my savior. I accepted Jesus as my personal
savior the old way. My mom told me how to pray. She said, “Baby
child, ask the Lord to forgive you for your sins and free your
soul. Do not think about playing. Do not think about anything
but what you are saying to the Lord, and He will free your soul.”
In my child’s mind, I set a day that I would start to pray,
and I did. The day was a Sunday night at Central Baptist Church;
the year was 1947. I think I prayed all night Sunday, because
each time I awoke, I was praying or I awakened myself saying
those words my mom told me to say.
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Early Monday morning, August 4, 1947, my oldest sister who was
home, Mary, was in the kitchen fixing breakfast, my other sister,
Elizabeth, was helping her, and Roosevelt, the baby of all, was
somewhere around. Mom was gone to a neighbor’s home; my
dad was at home ill.
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I was on my way to the barn when, suddenly, I heard an angelic
host singing over my head. I stopped to listen and see where
the singing was coming from. As I listened, I heard the angels
singing, “Have mercy” over and over again. The angels
were singing up above my head. I remember looking up; I wanted
to see if I could see where the voices were coming from. I was
not able to see in a distance; it just seemed to be a fog or
misty cloud. And I had great joy.
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I started back toward the house, and as I approached it and was
near the chimney, all of a sudden something came over me like
a shower of great happiness and I began to say, “I am so
glad I got Jesus and He is way down in my soul.”
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My sisters came running to me and we all were shouting and shouting.
I looked as if I were a new person; everything looked new around
me. I started to run to tell my aunt, and I saw my mom coming.
She had something on her head. (This is the way she always carried
packages.)
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I ran to her and told her my story and she started shouting.
Next, I ran to my Big Mom and Aunt Joe and told them my story.
My, sister, Elizabeth, was right behind me running. She had confessed
Jesus as her savior earlier, so we both were running. I went
to another neighbor’s house and told them and that Monday
night, I told the church. The church shouted.
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I WAS BORN AGAIN!
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- Each night, we attended revival until it was over for that
year. When the singing and mourning started, I remember becoming
full as if something inside of me was going to explode. I tried
to restrain myself; I would twist and shift from side to side.
But the more I tried to hold myself together, the greater the
pressure became until I could no longer contain the joy that
was housed in my soul.
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I thought to go out and as I tried to do so, I fainted. I could
hear my mom calling me as if she was in a far distance, but I
could not respond. I could not say anything. This happened on
several occasions. My mom took me to the doctor, and he told
her that there was an illness occurring in my body.
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- Thought: Make sure you know that God is in your life and
He lives in your spirit.
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- As a Child
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- Before I was born-again while playing in the yard,
and many times I played alone, I would hear
someone calling my name in a long singing voice. We lived near
a wooded area and the voice always seemed to have been coming
from those woods. I would run in the house and tell Mom that
someone was calling me, and she would make me stay in the house.
I remember thinking—“Who is calling me.” I often
heard the call time after time, and I learned to listen for it.
It was always my name. “Henreitta, uuuu, Henreitta uuuuuu.”
I believe it was a call from God.
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I did not know what it was all about then, but I believe today
that it signified something special since I am in the ministry
today. I am called by God and that vivid picture is still fresh
in my mind.
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When we were children, Elizabeth and I visited all the older
people in the neighborhood. Mom always told us to help people,
so we would sweep the yard and wash dishes. (Sweep the yard meant
to use a sage straw broom and sweep the walk-ways and the immediate
areas of the yard. Only people in the country knew what a sage
straw broom was.)
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Mrs. Ella and Mrs. Ema were great neighbors; we would always
go to their homes and do whatever they wanted us to do. Mr. Percy
was Mrs. Ema’s husband; he was blind. When he had to go
to the store, we would lead him with a stick that he always carried.
The store was about a mile through some wooded spots of the road-way.
He purchased us candy for walking him to the store and Mrs. Ema
made “T” cakes for us. They were big, round, and delicious.
Mrs. Ella made delicious fruit dishes. They were made of all
types of fruit. She also made big dinners.
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It was at a neighbor’s home, when we saw our first television.
I remember it being a foggy picture, but nevertheless, it was
a picture. This was probably in the mid-forties. We had a radio,
and we all gathered around the radio and listened to the news.
It had lots of static, but it was clear enough to hear the words.
I remember the voice of the radio personality being distinct
and clear.
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We had a happy life. Mom loved us and told us many fireplace
and front porch stories some of which we reminisce about at family
gatherings and family reunions. Mom’s stories were always
about moral issues that taught us good habits. Her stories have
helped us make right choices in life, enhanced our thinking toward
becoming successful, and in our taking pride in all we do. Mom’s
thoughts were deep and valuable.
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I often use many of her stories even now when talking to young
people. Repeating many of her thoughts for life in my discussions
with young people have become an intrinsic part of my speech
as well as in the Bible classes I teach. My mom’s stories
and thoughts for life means very much to me today when I have
to make important and life-threatening decisions or understand
issues of today’s many complex situations and circumstances.
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- Thought: We need to return to love and valuable training.
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- A QUEST TO KNOW GOD: SOMETHING TO TELL
- by Henreitta S. Tripp.
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