Cactus Club
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My Testimony
Richard Moore a/k/a Cactus Jim about 1940 (This is the bike with the moldy seat. Dad had a bottle of Old Spice that I dumped on it with the bike turned upside down. Wherever I rode the bike, I stunk like Old Spice Shaving Lotion for a few hours!) :-) My Testimony After WWII I attended the University of Tennessee where I met a pretty young widow from Northern Ireland. After her husband had been killed in an auto crash, she moved to Knoxville, to live with her sister who had also married an American GI. Within six months we were married and I dropped out of college to go to a school for radio announcers in Minneapolis. We were both raised as Protestants in the same mainline denomination, but neither of us attended church very often. After having three little girls and appearing daily on a television show for children (as a cowboy) we felt that it would “look good” if we attended church. At this time in my life I was hooked on beer. Many Sunday mornings I would sing the hymns with a big, bursting hangover, trying my best to look like nothing hurt. I NEVER heard the gospel in that church; everything was “speak with love” and “God loves us all”. There was never any mention of Hell. The reason and the wonder of the cross; the power of the cross was never mentioned. Nor was blood of Jesus Christ. In 1959 I became a full-fledged alcoholic and was locked in the ninth floor ward of the VA Hospital in Iowa City, IA. My doctor said I must learn to live without ethyl-alcohol of any type. She suggested AA, (Alcoholics Anonymous). AA is a wonderful program. In the third step, a member is to turn their life over to a “higher power”...in my case, God, as I understood Him. I did not understand so I went on a “God Hunt”. Not knowing where to turn for the Truth, I sent a letter to every organization I could find...and included a one dollar bill with a note which read: “Please send me all you know about God”. My mailbox was soon filled with conflicting material. I was now staying sober but I was fearful and not happy. Life was a constant battle. At noon I would go home and after lunch I would lie on my bed and repeat the “Lord’s Prayer”. One day I reasoned that I was no different than a Hindu in India spinning a prayer wheel. All I was doing was repeating mere words. The only respect I knew to give this God was to get on my knees. If John F. Kennedy would have come into that bedroom, I would have stood up and said, “Sir!” and would have been respectful. (Though I didn’t even vote for him.) With this in mind, I dropped on my knees beside the bed and prayed something like this: “Whoever You really are ... whatever name you go by, I want to want you...’cause I really don’t want you deep down. You’ll tell me not to look at the girls, not to drink that old beer, not to tell dirty jokes, nor to use vulgar language or think nasty thoughts. I have done ALL these things and I’m sorry. I don’t even deserve to be even asking you this.” I KNEW that someone had heard my prayer. I felt it in my hearts and in my whole being. My cheeks were wet from tears as I got up from that bed. About three days later, a Gideon I respected asked me out of the blue, “Dick, what do you think of Jesus Christ?” In reply I made a dumb remark about wanting to go directly wanting to go to God the Father. My Gideon friend took the Scriptures and showed me that no man can come to the Father except through the Son. I lied to him and told him that I had already accepted the Son. But at that moment, inwardly I was saying “Yes, Lord I do!” It has been a wonderful, growing relationship ever since that moment. Sure, I make stupid mistakes. I have disappointed and still disappoint Him. But He has never disappointed me, no matter how badly I have ignored Him. I am still battling pride and ego in “the Old Man” as well as in a host of other carnal snares. He loves me in spite of this. Surely the writer of the hymn, “At Calvary” must have been reading my mail. For the words of this hymn fit my testimony to a tee. “Years, I spent in vanity and pride...caring not my Lord was crucified...knowing not it was for me He died, at Calvary. Mercy there was great and grace was free. Pardon there was multiplied to me! There my burdened soul found liberty, at Calvary!” In closing, I must report to you the following. In Him I have found all the peace, joy, contentment and abundance I was seeking when I was drinking. Look what I have to look forward to now! Wow! |
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