Hand in Hand

As I became a teenager, girls began to change. For some reason, they were getting prettier and prettier. I started giving valentines, but I was so bashful that I didn’t sign my name to them. I wanted to sit with the girls on the school bus, but what if they said, “No?” or “I don’t like you?” At 15 years old, my last year of school, I finally worked up enough nerve to sit next to one girl. I just knew I loved her, but I didn’t dare tell her.

Two of my cousins (J.E. and Emory Stinson), a little older than I, came for a visit. Promptly, they said, “Grady, let’s go get us some girls.” We drove by Mary Sally Bridges’ home, and I asked her to go with me for a ride. She said, “Yes,” and it scared me to death. The older boys had told me how to act, but I just didn’t have the nerve — probably didn’t say three words to her the whole time.

Later, two other cousins (Randolph and Robbie) came. I had my driver’s license then, so I had to show off a little. I asked Randolph, “Where can we go to get some girls?” “Let’s go to the Ikners’ house. They have a bunch of kids, including a pretty little girl.” (Actually, though I didn’t know it at the time, I had seen her before — the first year she came to Lowry School. I thought then that she looked like a little midget woman.) Anyway, we went to the Ikners’ and played with the boys. Agnes was only 13 years old then, and I did not recognize the significance of that visit.

A little while later, I received an invitation to a Christmas party. Not able to read very well, I took the letter to the little country store where I liked to hang out. “Can you tell me who this is?” I asked Lois Winn. She looked and laughed, “That’s Agnes Ikner.” Of course, I accepted the invitation and met her at the party since her dad would not let her go on a date then. Then I knew I wanted to see her more.

Agnes went to White Springs Baptist Church, so I decided to go so that I could see her more. At first, I would sit with her in church on Sunday nights. Then the teenagers, after the Sunday morning service and lunch, started going to Jay Bird Springs to bowl, swim, etc. Of course, we had to be back home in time to milk the cows and get ready for the evening service at church.

On one trek back home, Agnes was sitting in the middle of the back seat, and I was beside her. While we were stopped at a traffic light in McRae, Georgia, we saw a man and his wife with two children (maybe 6 and 8 years old). They were holding hands, and each one had his Bible with him. Obviously, they were walking to church. Agnes said, “That’s the kind of family I’d like to have.” “Me, too,” I said politely. That night, though, as I was praying before going to bed, I asked God to give me that kind of family. I knew the answer was “yes.”

Finally, Agnes’ dad allowed her to start “dating.” We spent time together, but we were both so shy that a three hour date might include only a three-minute conversation. When Emmett, my older brother, came home from the army, I introduce him to Jewel McKenzie. She had an outgoing personality, so she kept our double-dating active. Soon Emmett and Jewell were engaged, and they were talking about it all the time. One day, we had picked up Jewell in Soperton and were on the way back to my house to get my family to go to church. Hearing Emmett and Jewell talk about getting married, I asked Agnes, “When are we going to get married?” She said, “When school’s out, I guess.” I guess that was my proposal.

Since we did not know anything about college, or know anyone who had gone to college, we followed the “normal” route. It was common for a girl finishing high school to get married. So we started making plans to be married in the last part of May. In March or April, I took a job with Horseshoe Bend Dairy driving a milk truck.

Back then, you could get your marriage license and post it at the court house. If no one took them down in a week, then you did not have to have permission from your parents. We were unsure that Agnes’s dad would give his permission, so I drove the milk truck to the court house in Dublin, got the license, and posted it. Since Mr. Ikner only went to town once or twice per year, I figured that he wouldn’t see it. After the week was finished and I picked up the license, I stopped by the Ikner place. When I asked Mr. Ikner if I could marry Agnes, he asked, “What would you do if I said, ‘no?’” I told him that we already had the license and would get married, but we really wanted his permission. “Well, I don’t guess I have anything to say about it, have I? he replied.

We didn’t have a car, so I told my sister, Alice, that we wanted to get married on that next Saturday, June 4. So she and her husband, Duncan, picked us up and drove us to the home of Barker Couey, the Justice of the Peace. As we drove up, Mr. Couey was walking out of the yard towards the hog pen with a slop bucket in his hand. Duncan drove right up to him and said, “Barker, these kids want to get married.”

It was a hot June afternoon (2:30 to 3:00), and we had no air conditioning. On top of that I had borrowed my Dad’s white wool suit, Agnes was wearing a “sort-of-peachy-orange” dress that a lady had given her to wear for her graduation, and we were sitting in the back seat of the car. Mr. Couey asked me if I had our license, and I handed it to him. “Oh, it seems to be in order,” he said and pulled out his “little black book.” From the front seat, he read the wedding vows and, finally, came to the question. Of course, I said, “I will.” So did Agnes. Mr. Couey then said, “Y’all are married. Go have fun.”

Fun? Well, it was. Hand in hand, we stopped by the store to buy some pillows, sheets, and dishes. Then we purchased some groceries, and went home to the house that the dairy provided as a part of my pay. Early the next morning (4:00 am?) I left my bride sleeping as I headed out on the milk route.

With that, God started answering our prayer for a Godly family.

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My Beginnings

Every Christian life has a beginning, actually two beginnings. Our physical life begins at birth, our spiritual life at our second birth. Jesus startled Nicodemus with these words, “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God…. Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.” It actually makes sense. To be born of water is to be born physically, and we must have physical life to be able one day to see the Kingdom of God. However, we must also have spiritual life, so we must be born again — spiritually.

My physical life began July 19, 1929. I remember the date, because my parents reminded me of it each year. In fact, I have celebrated 82 reminders so far. However, I don’t remember actually being born. I don’t question it, though. I am alive, and that is evidence enough.

Unfortunately, I don’t remember the exact date that my spiritual life began. That does not bother me, though. I am alive spiritually, and that is evidence of my spiritual second birth. Hopefully, these writings will offer the proof.  It is the grace of God that saved me, and it is the grace of God that has caused me to follow Him with all my heart. May God receive all the glory.

For a long time, I have thought that I was saved when I was thirteen or fourteen years old. It was in 1943, but I simply do not remember whether these events took place before or after my birthday.

I grew up in a home where the Bible was a very sacred thing. But if my parents ever read it to me, I don’t remember it. However, when I was in the fifth grade, my class was in charge of the school chapel program. My part was to quote John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” It took me a while to memorize it. I kept saying, “only forgotten ,” and my teacher kept correcting me. Finally I said it correctly, and that verse lodged firmly in my memory.

Mostly we went several miles to church only once a month in a mule-drawn wagon. However, after lay-by time (time after we planted, ploughed, and hoed the crops; and were waiting for the harvest time) that summer (1943), we had revival time at Beulah Baptist Church. Evangelist Gizzard (giz-ZAHRD) preached on John 3:16 every night, emphasizing a different part of the verse each night. Friday night, during the invitation, he challenged us to “turn loose” and come down to the altar. Looking down at my hands gripping the pew in front of me, I saw that my knuckles were white because of my conviction. I “turned loose.” That night I asked God to forgive me of my sins and save me.

On the way home, I excitedly told everyone in the wagon that I got saved. They thought I had just joined the church, but I had actually asked Christ to save me.

Recently, as I was telling others what it means to be saved, I realized that I was probably saved earlier. When my class presented that program from the book of John, the teacher gave each of us a printed Gospel of St. John. In the back, a “sinner’s prayer” was printed, giving an example of a prayer to pray to be saved. I read the book many times, and each time I prayed the prayer. In fact, I prayed it so many times that I memorized it. I meant it, too. I believed that Jesus Christ was God, that He died on the cross to save me from my sins, and I asked Him to save me. As I look back at it now, I believe I was actually saved when I first prayed that prayer.

Being a new Christian, I thought that I needed to be baptized to wash my sins away, so I eagerly looked forward to being baptized. Since our church did not have a baptistry, we went over the White Springs Baptist Church to be baptized in the springs there. They had built a small pool, fed by the springs, big enough to hold several people. Being spring water, it was cold, and I remember how hard it was to walk down the steps into the water. I think there were eight of us, all children, who were baptized that day. I felt clean that day.

Not knowing any better at the time, I thought I had to make at least 70% in good works, kind of like a grade in my school classes. I kept doing wrong things, though, and asking God to forgive me over and over. Without a complete Bible, I just started reading the Gospel of St. John over and over. Prayer, to me, was simply asking God for what I wanted, so I started asking Him for just about everything that I wanted.

By the time I was 16 years old, we were going to church every other Sunday. I don’t remember a lot of what I might have learned in church, but I did grow in a child-like faith. I always wanted to do what was right, and that desire cleaned up my language and other parts of my life.

During the last 68 years of my life, I have learned a lot. Salvation is simple enough that even a child can be saved. Even though I misunderstood some things, Jesus Christ saved me and continued to work in me. He has now taught me what it means to be saved experientially and to know it. I look forward to the day when I get to see my Savior face to face.

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