It was early October, 1973. I was in Denver looking for a gig in a mall as a caricaturist for the Christmas season. My home was in Taos, N.M. but I had lost my job as a teacher and was now making ends meet by doing caricatures, mostly on college campuses.
I arrived in Denver by bus and was concerned about my double life. I was an elder in a main-line protestant church in Taos, a respected member of the religious community, a husband and father in a wonderful family. Yet when I got away from all of that in Taos I lived a different kind of lifestyle in the city. I was a hypocrite in my own eyes. It was a bad place to be and it finally dawned on me that I was powerless to rid myself from that servitude to my flesh.
I prayed that night and asked God, who ever he was, to forgive me. To my surprise, I felt forgiven. Whoa!
The next evening, is was standing at a bus stop in Englewood waiting for a bus to take me back to my room at the downtown YMCA. A car stopped and backed up. In the car was my old friend and former boss, Peter Brock. We worked together at the Taos News. Peter, back then, was the editor of the paper and played the pagan role in our relationship. I was supposed to be the Christian.
He recognized me standing there in the dark at a bus bench on a busy street. He asked me what I was doing there. I told him I was going back to my hotel room. He offered to take me there.
As I rode with him I asked him where he was going…to a “Prayer meeting”? (chuckle, chuckle) You see, I had heard that Peter had got mixed up with a bunch of “Holy Rollers” in Denver. He said he WAS going to a prayer meeting and asked me if I would like to come along.
I declined the invitation, not wanting to do anything “weird”, but had second thoughts when I thought about what happened to me the night before.
So I went to the prayer meeting. It was a bit weird…people where holding up their hands and speaking in strange languages. Yet, I felt strangely comfortable with that. It seemed these worshipers really believed that God was present with them.
At the end of the service the worshipers were gathered singing “Amazing Grace” at the front of the Church. I was standing at the back and very conflicted. I wanted to lift up my hands in the sanctuary but didn’t want to do anything “weird”. It dawned on me then that I didn’t even trust the Lord enough to allow him to lead me in the worship of Himself. THAT was weird.
So I lifted up my hands in the sanctuary and felt I was in the presence of God. Jesus stood before me, high and lifted up and I touched the hem of His cloak. I somehow felt like the woman with the issue of blood (Mark 5:24-34). This was amazing to me.
I was amazed because I realized Jesus was not dead, he was alive and desired to be with me. My life was changed at that moment.
Since then I have had many exciting adventures with Him. There also has been many times that I failed to follow him. Yet he has forgiven me and keeps challenging me, to this day, to participate in His great work on Earth .
I know I have eternal salvation because I believe in Him (John 6:29). However, I still struggle to do the things he has commanded me to do. I figure everyone does that. We are, after all, human. But His Spirit lives in me. And many rewards await those who choose to participate in His Kingdom work.
Jesus has invited those who believe in Him to do the work that was started from the very beginning…to reconcile man, God’s creation, to the Holy and Living God.
So now I’m 68 years old and have known Jesus for 38 years. It’s been a wonderful adventure.
I'd be happy to respond to any questions anyone might have.
Blessings in Him, Chuck Asay, Colorado Springs