My Road to
Faith in Christ and Christian Maturity
Part One
                                                                                        By Pastor F. M. Riley
                                                                                        May 19, 2017
     "For unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on Him, but also to suffer for His sake," Philippians 1:29.  
Introduction
     I have been asked a number of times over the years, by different brothers and sisters in Christ, about various aspects of my life, and about my calling into the Lord's ministry.  I have had young Christian men ask me how they could know whether the Lord was calling them into His ministry or not?  
     Some of these questions, I do not claim to be able to answer,  due to the fact that the Lord God works with every individual believer in the way He knows will best minister to their own personality.   
      I am therefore, in this study, giving only.......
My Own Personal Testimony
praying that my own experiences will be a blessing to God's people, and an encouragement and help to lost seeking souls.  
     I was born to Christian parents, and grew up in a Christian home.  My birthplace was a shack just a few miles south of Higgins, Texas, a small town of 741 people in the Panhandle of Texas.  My parents were literally living in a shack at that time, because of the Great Depression that was upon America, and other parts of the world.  The year was 1934, the year historians now claim was the worst year of the Great Depression.  There simply was no money to afford a better place to live, and my parents were thankful that they even had that shack for our family.      
     My parents would get up early on Sunday morning, hitch a horse or mule to the wagon [I don't remember the animal],  and leave for town early enough to make it to church on time. Due to being in the Depression, we didn't have a car until I was nearly four years old. My parents always faithfully attended the church services of the First Baptist Church in Higgins, and brought us kids up in Sunday School and church.  To this day I thank God for my Christian parents and home.   
     Some of my earliest memories were those of my Momma, laying me on a pallet under the church pew where my parents were sitting.  As I grew older, I heard my parents discussing the pastor's messages.  The pastor back then was a Brother Burkham.  
     Even at my young age; I couldn't have been more than two to three years old, I remember that our church brought in an evangelist (whose name I don't remember), and held a revival meeting.  On a Sunday morning during that revival effort, I was sleeping on my pallet under the church pew, when there was a terrific commotion.  I awakened to hear people laughing, crying,  shouting, praising the Lord, and going forward to take our pastor by the hand.   I asked my mother what was happening, and she told me she would tell me later.  And she did!  
     That Sunday morning eighty people in our community, who were attending the revival services, came forward to receive the Lord Jesus Christ as their Savior. I was too young to understand the significance of  what my Momma told me back then, but I have never forgotten all the commotion in that service that morning, nor how the salvation of those 80 people had a good moral effect on our entire little town for many years to come.
About my Parents
     Thanks to the insistence of my mother, we had Bible study and prayer in our home on a fairly regular basis.  So I grew up being well exposed to the truth of God's Word, and to how a true believer should live for the Lord.  Thank God for that early exposure to God's Word, and to how true Christians should live their lives for the Lord.
     My Momma was a dedicated Christian believer, having been saved as a young woman in an old time Missionary Baptist Church in East Texas, where her family was living at the time.  In fact, she told me that I was named after her old pastor who led her to the Lord.  
     There was nothing superficial about my Momma's Christianity.  She placed in the living room of our home, where one couldn't fail to see it every day, one of the old time "signs," which read "Only one life, T'will soon be past.  Only what's done for Christ will last."  What an impression that sign made on me as a little boy growing up in our home; an impression that stays with me to this day.   I still thank God that both of my parents were Godly, moral, people, who loved me enough to be concerned about my soul, and where I would spend eternity. And my Momma's tears and prayers for me were not wasted.  
My Salvation Experience
     When I was about eight or nine years old, our church called a new pastor.  His name was "Hicks."  I don't remember his first name after all these years, but I do remember his preaching, and his family.  He had a lovely wife, a lovely daughter, and a son who was my age.
     Pastor Hicks was really on fire for the Lord and His Word.  Up to his coming to our church, like many younger children, I had endured going to church, not really paying much attention to what the teachers and the pastor had to say.  But when Brother Hicks came to pastor our church, my attitude began to change.  I started listening to his messages, for he was so earnest and plain spoken in his preaching, that I realized he had something to say that was worthy of my paying attention.  
     At the age of eleven, I went to church one Sunday morning, [I do not recall the exact date, but I sure remember the event] and that morning the message being preached by Pastor Hicks really got a grip on my soul. Sadly, after all of these  years I don't remember what text Pastor Hicks was preaching on, nevertheless it was the living Word of our living God, and it cut right into my heart, Hebrews 4:12-13.    The convicting power of the Holy Spirit really awakened me to my lost condition.  I knew that morning that if I died in that condition, I would go straight to hell.  I do remember that I was sitting in the second pew from the front of the church on the right side of the sanctuary, and I was seated in the second seat from the church aisle.  Right there in that spot that morning, I cried out to the Lord God for mercy upon my sin cursed soul, asking the Lord Jesus to come into my heart and save me from my sins.  And He heard my cry, and saved me right there, as I sat in that church pew.  
     I truly experienced the "new birth" that morning, and I shot out of my seat to the front.  I could hardly wait to tell the whole church what had just happened to me.  Of course, all of those at church that morning came forward to shake my hand, or hug me, and express their thankfulness for my salvation.  It was, at that time, the most glorious experience with the Lord that I had ever had, and I am glad to be able to tell our readers today that I know I am saved, I know when I was saved, I know where I was saved, and I know WHO it was that saved me.  No, it wasn't my beloved Pastor Hicks who saved me; rather it was the Lord Jesus Christ.  Pastor Hicks was only the yielded instrument in the hands of the Lord to deliver the message of the Lord's saving GRACE.   Oh, that there were more pastors in the churches and the ranks of Christianity today like Pastor Hicks.    
     Pastor Hicks continued to pastor our church for another two years after I was saved until.....
The Great Tornado
     What I am now going to relate, being only thirteen years old at the time, was branded upon my mind and heart, to the extent that I can still remember every little detail, even after all of these years, though there were some details I would just as soon have been able to forget.   
     The date was Wednesday, April 9, 1947.   It was a warm Spring day, cloudy most of the day, and the humidity was high for our location way up in the Panhandle of Texas.  So the day was rather oppressive all day.
Then during the afternoon, the cloud cover broke away, and huge thunderheads appeared in the south and west.  
     The sun was still shining brightly, as my mother began setting our evening meal on the table.  The time was just a few minutes after 7 p.m.  There was a huge cloud in the southwest, but we didn't think anything about it, other than we might get some rain.  The truth is, no one in that area had ever been concerned with tornadoes. In fact, at the age of thirteen I had never heard of a tornado, and didn't even know what one was. It was only after that terrible tornado, that tornadoes began occurring every year during the Spring season of the year, following a general path from west Texas right up through the plains of the Midwest.  At some point in the years that followed, someone came up with the expression, "tornado alley."   But all of this was unknown in April of 1947, and only a few in our little town were concerned about the huge thunderhead cloud that was bearing down on our town.
     However, the manager of the local electrical power plant in our town was very concerned about what he saw approaching, and precisely at 7:28 p.m., he shut off electric power to the entire town.  This very likely saved some people from being electrocuted by fallen electric wires, for the tornado blew down electric poles and wires all over town.  
     My Mom and Dad and myself, had just set down to the table to eat our evening meal, when hailstones began falling, so big that they sounded like they were going to come through the roof.  I immediately jumped up and went out the kitchen door on to our enclosed porch.  Looking out the window I saw hailstones falling that were literally as large as baseballs, or even larger.  I rushed back into the kitchen to tell my Mom and Dad what I had seen.  
     But just as I re-entered the kitchen the entire roof blew off our house and the ceiling of the kitchen fell in on us and our dining table.  I do not know why, except for the direction of the Lord, that we took refuge in the corner behind the kitchen door.  All three of us knelt and begin to pray earnestly for the Lord's protection and deliverance.  And He heard and answered our prayers.  
     All of the walls of our home were blown down except for the corner of the kitchen where we were praying.  In a moment or two,  my Dad grabbed me and my Mom and told us we had to get to a cellar and out of the storm.  So we walked out of our house right over the fallen walls and headed for an old abandoned concrete cellar two blocks away.   
     When the storm hit, the sun was still shining.  Three or four minutes later, we were in the heart of the tornado and it was pitch black dark.  But it didn't stay that way.  In 1947, there were a lot of people still using wood and coal stoves for heat and even for cooking.  When the tornado began blowing down homes, many of those homes caught fire. Then fire was literally blown through the air by the storm, giving us enough light that my parents and I could see how to make our way to the old storm cellar two blocks away.  By the grace of God, we made it with only one minor mishap.  
      As we were holding hands tightly to keep from being blown away, we saw a large Collie dog coming towards us.  That dog was literally being blown through the air three feet off the ground.  That dog struck my mother right in her  mid-section, and knocked her to the ground, and then flew on off into the darkness.  Thankfully, the three of us were  holding hands, so Dad and I lifted Mom back to her feet, and we continued to move towards the old cellar.
     Within a few more minutes we were safe within that old cellar.  But others in the area knew about the cellar too, and soon the cellar was packed with people, some of them seriously injured.  One young girl, a school classmate of mine, was brought into the cellar with a board actually having been driven right through her chest. The board was sticking out of her chest in the front, and out of her back.  Each time she breathed, we could hear the blood gurgling in her lungs.  
     Finally, after several minutes the tornado moved on out of our town, and towards the northeast.  But the damage was done!   Nearly every home in our little community was damaged or destroyed.  And when the authorities were finally able to review the whole situation, 46 people in our town had been swept into eternity in little more than the five minutes it had taken for the tornado to pass through the heart of our town.  Others died later from injuries received, raising the final tally in our town to 51 people who perished in or from the effects of that terrible tornado.   
     But the storm wasn't over when it left our town.  The tornado raised back into the clouds, went over two more towns, and then descended upon Woodward, Oklahoma, where another 50 people were killed, and many homes destroyed.    
From Childhood to Maturity
     After the storm was over, my Dad wanted to see if anyone needed help, and since I wasn't injured, he took me with him.  Folks, my Dad and I spent the rest of that night helping people get out of the wreckage of their destroyed homes, and yes, helping some to remove the dead bodies of their  loved ones from the wreckage of their homes.    
     My daddy's brother, my "Uncle Joe Riley," had just sold his farm in the country a little over two weeks before the tornado. He had moved his family to town, where he purchased the town Pool Hall in order to have a business and source of income.  
     The Pool Hall was a huge old wood frame building, built back in the early 1920's.  It was heated by a large wood or coal burning barrel type heating stove.  Due to it still being early Spring, there was a fire burning in the heater.    When the tornado hit, the entire old building collapsed and immediately caught fire from the heating stove.  There was my uncle and nine other people in the Pool Hall that night.  When the building began to collapse, all of them dived under the pool tables for protection.  Only one man was able to escape from the wreckage, and he didn't bother to try and free my uncle or the other eight people.  He was so frightened by what had happened he ran for his home, ignoring the cries for help of the others trapped under the pool tables.   All nine of them burned to death.  
     Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, my Dad and I had worked our way to the business area of town, and went to the Pool Hall to check on my uncle.  By that time, the town was swarming with people from other towns who had heard about the storm and had come to help.
      I was called upon that night to identify the remains of my uncle.  There was literally no remains to identify.  All nine of those men had been burned into ashes.  They were identified only by the things which they had carried in their pockets, or on their person.  My uncle had a pocket watch he always carried in the bib of his overalls, and his pocket knife.  I was able to identify his pocket watch and knife on the spot where his body had burned up.    Likewise for the other eight people who were trapped in the wreckage that night.  The spot where each of them burned up was  identified from only what they had been carrying in their pockets, or perhaps a ring they had been wearing.  It is needless to say that my experience during that long night, seeing friends and neighbors I knew personally dead or dying, or severely injured, had a profound emotional effect on me.  That was quite a burden to be laid upon a  thirteen year old boy.  
     One young girl in my class at school had her head literally cut off, obviously by a piece of flying sheet metal hitting her right in the neck.  Another of my classmates at school was killed in the wreckage of their home.  And I had no choice about being confronted with all of the death and suffering over the next few days.  And how did it effect me?
     Folks, I was a carefree thirteen year old growing boy on April 9, 1947, when the tornado struck.  The next day I had matured into a man!   And from that day forward, I helped my Daddy, working like a man right beside him as we tried to clean up the wreckage,  rebuild our lives,  and find another place to live.    
The Power of Almighty God
     It is needless to tell our readers that in such a situation, the presense and power of God shines through brightly.  
     That young classmate of mine, who had a board literally run through her body, after help had arrived, was taken by ambulance to the hospital in Shattuck, Oklahoma, just 18 miles from Higgins, Texas, and operated on.  The surgeons were able to remove the board and repair her damaged body, and she miraculously survived and lived for many more years.  
     But let's return to Pastor Hicks, the beloved pastor of my church home in Higgins.  Our church owned a parsonage for the pastor and his family to live in.  The parsonage was an old frame house, having been built back in the 1920's.  The house contained a huge built in brick and mortar chimney, where a wood or coal heating stove could be hooked up for heat in the winter.  Of course, the pastor and his family were all home, and were partaking of their evening meal when the tornado suddenly struck their house.  Excited, they all jumped up from the table to see what was happening.    
     When the tornado struck, the roof was blown completely off the parsonage, and the walls were blown down.  The old brick and mortar chimney, having nothing left to support it fell over into the living room floor without even breaking apart.   But when it fell, our pastor was right in front of it.  That falling chimney knocked him to the floor, and then came to rest on part of his body and on his head.  
     My pastor's son, Claude Hicks, the same age as myself, dearly loved his daddy.  Terrified that his daddy was hurt or killed, Claude reached down, picked up that whole chimney, moving it from off his daddy, and literally threw it to the side of the living room.  His mother was right there and saw her son do this for his daddy.  For the moment he literally saved his daddy's life.   
     Folks, building engineers later calculated the weight of that old chimney to be 12,000 pounds.   There was no way a normal strong, able bodied, man could even move the chimney, and certainly no way anyone could pick it up.  The chimney had to be broken apart by construction workers before it could even be removed from the house.  Yet Claude Hicks, the thirteen year old son of my pastor, lifted that whole chimney off of his daddy, with his mother being an eye witness to his having done it.  So what is the explanation for this miracle having taken place?  The supernatural power and mercy of our Living God!  
     Sadly, our pastor was badly injured by that falling chimney.  His skull had been crushed by the weight of the chimney.  Yet the Lord God graciously permitted him to live another four months with his family, before taking him home to glory.  Let every reader who is a true believer give glory to God!  How great and gracious is our Lord and our God!  
     But I'm not finished yet!   When the tornado struck, one of my cousins, at the time just five years old, lived in a house on a high hill on the south and east edge of Higgins.  Of course their home was blown away.  The little girl was rescued later in the night, found wandering around in a pasture at the edge of town, with not a scratch on her.  She excitedly told those who had found her, about being lifted up into the air high above the town, and flying around and around over the town.  She said that she could see people on the ground below, and she waved and called to them, trying to get their attention, but they couldn't see or hear her.  Then after a few minutes the storm brought her back to the ground, setting her gently down in the pasture where she was found, with not a single injury on her body.  And yes, her parents were Bible believing Christians. There is no question that the mercy and grace and power of God was manifested in my little cousin's deliverance.  Glory to God!  Praise the Lord!  
     Oh, one more account, this one from the negative side.
     There was a man in our town who was considered to be a hermit.  He lived in an old abandoned house about a mile out of town, exactly in the path of the tornado.  The man spent much of his time drinking.  He never attended church and had no use for God, for God's Word, or for others who were Christians.  He lived mostly off of welfare, and whatever he could scrounge off of other people.  
     After the tornado had passed through our town, some went to check on the old man, knowing that his house was right in the path of the storm.  Before they ever reached the man's house, they heard him screaming and cursing.  When they got to the house, he was on the
floor in the basement of the house, severely injured, and thrashing about wildly with his arms, and kicking with his feet, and screaming and cursing so loudly he could be heard for a great distance.  Those who had come to his home, and were eyewitnesses, later said that he was cursing God, and also cursing demons who were trying to seize him and drag him into hell.  And he died still cursing God and screaming for the demons to leave him alone.  Oh, that men and women, boys and girls, everywhere would lift up their hearts to the Lord in faith, before it is eternally too late for them to be saved.  
Conclusion
     Dear readers, I have much more to relate on the subject matter set forth in the Title.  But I must stop for right now.  The Lord permitting, I will be writing a Part Two to this article.  I hope this personal account  will be a blessing to our readers.  I have not written it for any personal glory, but rather that I might glorify and exalt the Lord God of the Bible, and the faith of my parents, and now by God's grace my faith.
TO BE CONTINUED
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     Please feel free to share this, a portion of my personal testimony, with anyone you desire, or to quote from or use any part of it, for the glory of God.
     Thank you again, dear readers, for your prayers for this old preacher, and for your gifts in support of the Bible Study ministry the Lord has laid upon my heart.  I appreciate every kindness so very much.  
     Please address all comments, questions, and correspondence to me at:  Pastor F.  M. Riley, 14275 County Road 8120, Rolla, Missouri 65401.  
     I have had lots of phone problems the last couple of months.  If any reader has tried to call me and couldn't get through, you have my sincere apologies.  The Lord permitting, I will be getting a new phone within the next week.  In the meantime, just keep trying 573-201-0491.  Sometimes your calls do come through.  
     God bless you all is my prayer.   
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