I was born during the last year of World War II. My dad was a naval aviator and went to fight in the Korean War on two different occasions when I was a little boy. He was stationed every two years to a new location.
This helped me develop social skills early in life as I was always meeting new classmates and finding ways to enter into an already established group of friends. As time unfolded, I began to realize I was not like the other kids. I was athletic and had a good personality, but I was academically challenged.
Nothing in the classroom came easy to me. I dreaded school, knowing I was always at the bottom and drowning daily in math, English, history, you name it.
In the ninth grade I brought home straight Fs. You generally get a C for just showing up! Needless to say my mom and dad were concerned. So off I went to have my IQ tested at the age of sixteen. The only results I was given, though my parents may have been given more, was that I was to stay away from tools. I apparently have no visual skills and trying to build anything would be a disaster. I took their advice. All I own is a hammer…and I cant figure out where to plug it in.
After a year of college I decided to apply for the United States Naval Academy. You read that right. One of the most prestigious schools in the world would get my letter of application.
At the time of my application, my dad was the Superintendent of the Academy. He was strongly opposed to me applying as he knew my academics fell well below Academy standards. He told me that I would be rejected and he didn’t want more academic trauma brought into my life. One day I received a letter from the Admissions Department. The opening line said, “Congratulations on being accepted to USNA.” I’m sure my dad died a thousand deaths.
I entered in June of 1964 with one year of college and a failed ninth grade. Not a great start. My midterm grades came out and I was the proud owner of a 0.56 out of a possible 4.0. That’s right, a 0.56. One day on the way to class I talked to one of my classmates about how hard the academics were. He responded by saying, “This is a piece of cake.” Little did I know he would graduate numero uno. Never had a B recorded on his grades. We had that in common!
For some strange reason I managed to survive for four years. I had to repeat my freshman (plebe) year, but when I was faced with Thermodynamics and Fluid Mechanics for my senior year the academic review board knew I was incapable of passing those courses, so I was released from the Academy.
I can’t tell you the tears that flooded my eyes and the disappointment of telling my parents. God in His sovereignty had other plans.
He had me read the gospel of John, which proclaimed over and over that salvation had nothing to do with my good works but with faith in Christ and Christ alone.
In June of 1970, at a bed B&B in Copenhagen, Denmark, I turned to Christ and only Christ for my salvation. At that moment I left the Kingdom of darkness and entered the Kingdom of light. At that moment I was born again. At that moment I was converted. At that moment I was declared righteous. At that moment the righteousness of Christ was placed to my account. At that moment my sin was placed to His account. At that moment I was guaranteed eternal life. At that moment I passed from death to life. At that moment I was saved. At that moment I was set free from the bondage of religion. At that moment I stopped trying to earn my salvation. At that moment I became a child of God.
It was an awakening like I had never known. The scales fell from my eyes and I could see the world through the lens of divine revelation found in Scripture.
My wife Kay and I planted Reston Bible Church in June of 1974 in the living room of Charles and Arnett Swift. The church exploded, not because of my great teaching but because so few had ever heard of the free gift of salvation.
After 47 years at RBC I retired and moved to Franklin, Tennessee, where I now serve as an associate pastor.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.