Sharing Our Stories

"Do not be afraid of life."

For a year and a half, my husband was aggressively treated for an equally aggressive, inoperable brain tumor. The experience was one that none of us wish to encounter. Just after we were informed of the diagnosis, he knelt one evening and prayed aloud. He thanked God for what he would be experiencing in the coming months, saying he knew that this would allow him to be a witness for God's healing power.

Though he was not healed, he was indeed a profound witness. He never questioned nor complained about the situation. Though eventually all body functioning was lost, my husband never experienced pain. He was totally dependent on others. His faith never wavered. He continued to plan, direct, mentor, and love.

We were so blessed, though the situation was so grim. God was always with us. God was always with our church family and friends who ministered to us continually. I learned to call for help when needed. More than any other time in my life I recalled scripture I had learned and studied. I realized beyond any doubt, God is love. His grace transcends human understanding. His love provides a peace that comforts in the darkest hours of our lives. Though we may not comprehend the magnitude of His grace at the time, it surrounds and insulates us.

As my husband told me, "Do not be afraid of life. God is with you."

- Brenda Walden

"Blessed and not cursed."

The time over the last few years has flashed by, but I recall the evening service for Jo Ann C. Harrelson, just before Christmas in 2003. The church was filled, and I was in an unmerry state all on my own - without grieving that family’s loss. I had withdrawn into a painful place after losing a baby the previous Christmas, only days before Christmas Eve. The winter and the warmth of family and friends did nothing to awaken my spirit, and I simply remember a very heavy sadness.

As the service for Jo Ann ended, friends were invited to greet the family and a great line formed. My anxiety and inability to “chat” and put on my best face became so great that I felt physically ill. I excused myself to the ladies room and found myself alone in this cold, fluorescent lit, hollow room, filled with so much pain that my body wanted to fold on itself.

I felt/heard the voice of God (or was it the Holy Spirit?) saying to get on my knees. Here? In the bathroom? I tried to interpret. I only know that I moved, without really thinking, to the Chapel. No lights, and I did not look for a switch. I moved to the altar and knelt there. I literally felt the hands of God over me, comforting me, loving my pain too.

I know that He wanted then to bless me—He did bless me. But how great the knowledge that He was right there when I felt cursed. Praise God!

- Darlene Powell

"A Faith That Was Truly Her Own"

Our family is a living example of how God came near. Neither of my parents grew up in a Christian home. Although my father died when I was young, my mother has told many wonderful stories about how they came to the Lord and how their faith in God grew. She now has dementia, and sometimes she even gets confused as to who I am, but she still remembers these experiences and shares them with me. On her behalf, I would like to share them with you.

My dad grew up in a broken down home with an abusive father. In their neighborhood lived a Christian professor who taught at a Christian college in Cincinnati, but traveled home on weekends to preach. He took an interest in the youth of the neighborhood, inviting them to his home for discussions and to church. God used him to change the course of many lives. He baptized my dad and several young people and taught them for years, helping them grow into mature Christians who became leaders in other churches.

My mom was abducted by her father and grandfather in 1925 when she was little more than a toddler. She was shuttled all over the South as they ran from the law, not even allowed to go to school until she was nearly nine. She knew little or nothing about God, except she remembers one day an elementary teacher told the class the basics of the gospel and took them to a revival. She cut wood and worked in the fields from the time she was ten and wasn't allowed to go to high school after completing the eighth grade.

After World War II began, my mom went north seeking a job and a better life. My parents met in a factory when my dad was sent to fix my mom's machine during a break. They began to see each other, and he slowly taught her about the Lord until she dared to place her trust in Him. They dedicated their family to the Lord and taught many others in the years that followed.

After 19 years of marriage, my dad was in a motorcycle accident, which left him with head injuries, unable to talk, and partially paralyzed. My brother and I were 6 and 10 at the time. She cared for him and us for over two years, during which she clung to God and hammered out a faith that was truly her own and stronger than before. God helped us in so many ways. After his death she trusted God to help her put two children through college, and she taught 5th and 6th graders in Sunday School until she was too deaf to hear them and her voice was too weak to be heard.

- Linda Smith Gurganus for Lena Marjorie Smith

"Surely the Lord Is In This Place."

One day during our daughter’s battle with cancer, we got a call from her with the devastating results of a recent test. With my heart breaking, I tried to be as loving and reassuring to her as I could. Then I hung up the phone and cried and cried.

Suddenly I felt that the place I wanted to be and needed to be was here at First Baptist. I called my husband to meet me. When we arrived, we found that Kelly had thoughtfully put a sign on the sanctuary door saying that a private meditation was in progress. We sat on the front pew, held hands, and prayed.

Nothing could change the final outcome, but I have never felt God’s presence more closely than I did that day.

“Surely the Lord is in this place.”

- Ann Brown

“Don’t Do It”

I had dedicated my life to full-time Christian service, and here I was in my last year at Campbell College and still taking algebra. I had never been good at math and, therefore, had avoided it in high school. I had taken college algebra so many times I had lost count; now my graduation depended upon my passing this subject. It was a Friday night, and I had been informed earlier in the day that, yes, indeed, I had failed again. I went back to my dorm and discovered everyone else had gone home. I was alone. I dissolved into tears and sometime very late that night I said, “Ok, God, this is it. I’m through. I quit. I’m out. Tomorrow I’m calling my mother to come and get me.” I went to bed with tears on my cheeks.

Sometime during the night I had a dream, a vision – call it what you will. I’ll call it a dream. In my dream I had gotten up from the bed and had taken a few steps toward my closet when I heard a voice behind me say, “Linda.” I turned and said, “Yes?” And there, sitting in my chair at my little desk in Strickland Dorm, was Jesus. He was sitting sideways in the chair, his left arm over the back. Looking up at me he said, “Don’t do it, Linda. Please don’t do it. Don’t do it. Please don’t do it.” He said those words over and over and then I woke up.

I called my mother and asked if my brother, who was a senior in high school and a whiz at anything mathematical, would tutor me that summer if I came home and attended Wilmington College. The answer was, “Well, of course.”

The rest is history. I have been at the Wilmington Baptist Association for 34 years as, would you believe, Financial Director? It hasn’t been easy, but every time I have wanted to throw my hands up and quit, I hear Jesus saying, “Don’t do it, Linda. Please don’t do it.” Even though I am close to retirement, I will “quit” only when I hear Jesus whisper in my ear, “Ok, Linda, you can quit now.”

- Linda G. Carroll

[After passing College Algebra and Trigonometry under her brother's tutorage, Linda did graduate from Campbell with a degree in Christian Education.]