Two Pastor’s Testimonies- One for the Redeemed and one for the Masses.

Pastor’s Testimony

My Story

I was saved on August 24, 1983 when I saw myself lost, going to hell and trusted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. All my life I had tried being good, you know, stop sinning; but the hard I tried the worse I became. By the time I was fourteen I was drinking on a consistent basis, already smoking cigarettes, and soon was to take my first toke of pot, not really sure what I was getting into. By sixteen I was smoking pot and drinking almost every day. For those who have their kids in public schools, I might just state that I knew no one that did not smoke pot or drink at least a couple of beers a week. I went to college, but instead of studying I found the party life to be much more interesting. You say, “Well didn’t you get an education?” I could easily reply, “In How to Ruin Your Life 101”. I was well on my way to doing that. Finally, in my junior year I dropped out of college to work off shore on the oilrigs. That was a start of another chapter to the book of my life.
I started as a galley hand working for a drilling company called Diamond M. Drilling. My salary was $1500.00 a week. I could work three weeks out of a month, which made my total monthly income around $4500.00, which is too much to give a 21-year-old drug addict. Immediately, I went out and bought a Maxda RX7 and an ounce of the best pot I could find, nothing was too good for me anymore. I took my friends to the best restaurants, and on and on the story went. That was when cocaine entered into the picture. With the ladies and “the coke” I had become a party animal. I also learned to fly planes. That was one of the few things I do not regret.
I was having a ball until the first of December came around. I lost my job and in two weeks I lost my mother, whom I loved very much. I have too many regrets to list them all here. You would think that it would have been enough to wake me up, but it wasn’t. Now with a cocaine habit and jobless, I was in trouble. I flew out to Colorado to seize a job and to go back to school. My money reserves were not large enough to keep me going. In desperation and flat broke, I flew to my Uncle Sammie’s in Tulsa, Oklahoma where my rebellious attitude was about to set me back another step.
Almost as soon as I had arrived I was on a plane back to Pensacola with only $100.00 in my pocket that my Uncle gave me. When I arrived back in Pensacola it was so late that I decided to get a hotel that was about $28.00 and $6.00 for the taxi fare, which didn’t leave me with much money to live on. I called my old roommates to see what was happening, only to find the number no longer in service. I did not know what to do; but my pride kept me from going to my father’s house.
Soon all the money was gone. I ended up sleeping in the streets of Pensacola. Life was not quite as fun as it had been. I went eight days without eating anything. In a last attempt to get on my feet, I went and sold my blood. I figured with the money I got from selling my own blood I could get a bite to eat. They asked me the usual questions, “Have you eaten anything today?” “Oh of course,” I blurted out. While the blood dripped into the bag I started feeling weak and called for the nurse. She took my blood pressure and called the doctor. They ended up calling the paramedics and giving me two pints of blood and about 14 of those little orange juices. I left there broke and hungry. “I am ready to steal food,” I thought to myself. Still believing I was better than some, I threw that thought out the window. I ended up begging for food at a restaurant downtown called the Danty Del. The owner’s son fed me the leftovers from lunch, seven stuffed – bell peppers. I could not remember ever being so thankful for food even if I had to eat it where the cats eat (the back door). I now see, looking back, that the Lord was working on me through all those times; I was too rebellious. Pensacola has a rescue mission . I could have had a warm meal every night. I was too proud to go there. That was for street bums; not people who have as much on the ball as me. Pride was always haunting me. The single thing that brought Satan’s fall was slowly bringing mine.
I went to Charlie (whom I called C.P.) and MayWinn’s house to see if they would be gracious enough to let me stay with them long enough to get my feet back on the ground. So with a little convincing, my friends let me stay there ( I praise the Lord for those people). I was on my way back to a normal life. Two months I stayed there working on their house for one meal a day. C.P. in the end offered me a job with a landscaping firm where he was working. I was thrilled—finally a real job! It was the next few weeks that I secured an apartment around the corner on Barcelona Street. My life was looking up. I spent a year in the apartment. It was very personal time with much meditation, lots of prayers (none of which even hit the ceiling since I was lost, trusting my good WORKS). I went back to school not long after that. Six months later I was opening an arcade downtown called the Amusement Arcade with my buddy and old roommate Greg Morrison. How I thought the Lord was blessing me for cleaning up my life. Oh—I forgot to tell you that by this time I had quit smoking pot and drugs and drinking altogether, but I was still chasing the women and sinner in other ways. This is where something special happened to me.
I can’t remember the date I saw this girl but it must have been around early June. She was really special, clean, up front. She was just herself. She was talking to one of my cashiers, and as any warm-blooded American boy would have done, I started flirting with her. She was refreshing! She mentioned something about a health food co-op. The next time we talked I asked her if she would like to go to the movie and she said yes. I was in orbit. My heart pounded, as I never remembered. She mentioned she was saved and loved to study the Bible. I told her I was a Christian (I did believe in God). She was beautiful. She wanted me to go to church with her on Sunday. I could not refuse the opportunity to thank the Lord for my blessings. I told her I would go, not knowing what to expect.
I picked her up at her trailer that was right next to the church. We walked to church with her son, Jason. There weren’t very many people, but that didn’t bother me; it was that they met in a house. I thought to myself, “What kind of church is this?” She assured me that it would be a blessing. I don’t even remember if I had a Bible or not. The preacher’s name was Brother E. C. Moore. He started with a prayer and preached for forty-five minutes. We turned to what seemed to be about 400 scriptures (but was, in fact, probably only 30) of which I could only find two. Most of my childhood was spent in the military churches that only read one scripture and spoke about twenty minutes. This was a switch! I was so convicted that I almost forgot my name. Bud Morgan was one of the first to approach me after the service. He asked me if I was saved, and I went into a long spill that amounted to lies and confusion. I kept going although every time I stepped foot in the church there was great conviction. I started learning the terminology and could talk the talk. I was honestly learning something in the Bible. Brenda and I had grown very close. I knew she was the one I wanted to be my wife. There was something still very wrong spiritually; I was LOST. On the twenty-third of August 1983, for the first time in my life (that I could remember) the cross was preached to me.
The preacher started in Matt. 27, preaching the cross and describing the crucifixion. He kept adding the phrase, “You know why?” Because you are no good!” That really got to me: that I was simply no good. I saw for the first time that I deserved the cross, not Christ. I was so sad in my heart, confused. He kept preaching and convictions grew. I was at the point I could have jumped up and cried out for salvation, but something inside me kept me from doing it (the heart is deceitful). Now I know that it was pride. I had already told these people I was saved, now they would think I was a liar. The preacher kept saying over and over, “He did it all for you, why won’t you trust Him?” Thoughts flooded my mind—Oh, I was so lost! The preacher wouldn’t let up. He described a scene I would like to describe to you.
He mentioned how the Lord was spat upon, how he was stripped naked, how he was mocked, whipped, slapped—all because he was dying for MY SINS. How he was judged unfairly and was condemned to die a sinner’s death. Barabbas as the murderer, rapist, whoremonger, liar, cheater, stinky old scoundrel, and had been set free. Christ had to take his place. He had died for all my SINS, my filthy SINS, and the LUST I had done.
He went on to describe how it must have looked at Calvary that day. You have Barabbas sitting there watching the whole thing as a free man. You have his two henchmen facing the death for the crimes they had done and Christ facing death for the CRIMES I HAD DONE! You could hear the crowd yelling “crucify him, crucify him?” The thieves were screaming profanities. They laid the first cross down and grabbed one of the thieves, and he was fighting the whole way down. The preacher said, “It might have taken twelve men to hold his arm out to nail it to the cross; he was cursing, screaming and yelling.” He bowed his back as they grabbed his other arm to nail it. You could smell the liquor still on his breath. They lifted up the cross and dropped it in the hole. You could hear him scream a mile away as the weight of his body pulled against those nails. The agony he was in, the blood that covered his body; oh what a sight!
The other thief, being prepared to be nailed upon the cross, was much the same scene. You could hear as they nailed into his hands—Bam! Bam! Bam! You could listen for miles to the agony as he screamed. Bam! Bam! Can’t you hear him right now yelling, “When I get off this cross, I’ll kill you!” The Roman soldiers answering back, “You’ll never get off the cross,” laughing while they were hitting each other and pointing at the fool.
Then it was Christ’s turn. They put his cross on the ground and willingly he lay down. Do you know why? Because he was dying for Barry Hampton’s sins and yours. Some of the soldiers were still prodding him, but willingly he died for you. He took his arms and so very gently laid them upon the tree. No struggle at all. They started to nail the spikes into his hands. WHAM! WHAM! The nail painfully entered through his flesh, one pound at a time. Blood was everywhere. You could see the pain in his face, but he opened not his mouth. The Bible says they had already plowed furrows in his back with a whip. The pain was unbelievable, but he did it all so we could have eternal life. I was doing everything possible to hold back tears. For the first time, I saw what my Lord did for me. Me, personally! He became sin for me. The wages of sin is death and he died a sinner’s death but He was sinless. The sins that he had to pay such an awful death for came from somewhere. Yes, they came from me. Like if that wasn’t enough, the preacher went on. They lifted up his cross and dropped it in the ground. As the cross hit the bottom of the hole you could hear the echoes throughout the land. The nails ripped in his hands and feet when it hit. Then they stood around and mocked him some more, laughing “the King of the Jews.” Then one of them took a spear and thrust it through his side. Blood and water came rushing out. You could hardly see who he was anymore, all because of my sins.
One of the thieves yelled out, “If you are the Christ, get down off that cross. Save us both (that was me all my life). The other one answered, “Can’t you see that He is the Christ?” He had watched the whole thing happen: an innocent man was being crucified unjustly. Jesus said that he would see him in paradise that day. The other one died and in hell lifted up his eyes in torments, screaming for mercy, and will find none. I was so scared that hell was going to open up and grab me. That night I drove home afraid of having an accident or that the Rapture would happen before I got this matter straight with the Lord.
The next morning I was still under great conviction, and after two hours of conning the Lord I gave up and asked him to save me. I was simply lost, going to hell. I decided that if he didn’t forgive me at the cross as I Cor. 15:1-4 and Col. 2:1-3 said, I was going to hell. That moment a peace came upon me and I realized that he had already forgiven me of all my sins the moment he hanged on that cross and took my place. Thank the Lord for his mercy and kindness! Grace – It was all BY HIS GRACE. It was nothing I did, but what he did for me at the CROSS! Oh Salvation so divine. I thank the Lord for saving me that day and giving me the strength to testify of his Love, of HIS GREAT LOVE WHEREWITH HE LOVED US!
If you are not saved, stop everything and consider your salvation. What is it you have been trusting in: baptism, walking the aisle, church membership, or in absolutely nothing? If you are not trusting what the Lord did for you, you are lost going to hell. When was there a time in history you saw yourself lost, going to hell? When was there a time in history you saw yourself lost, needing salvation? I mean really deserving hell because you are NO GOOD. If there was not a time, how do you know what you are trusting for your salvation? Is it worth staking all eternity on? I knew the knowledge, but I was still lost. Don’t trust your knowledge. Trust the Savior! If you have any questions, please feel free to call Barry P. Hampton at 334-244-9434. If you trusted Christ, please write and let us know that we may joy in your salvation.