As a boy I was raised in a Christian home. Upon graduation from high school, I went on to college. The teachers were atheists, and I was soon following their beliefs. I came to Canada, an atheist, a drunkard and a gambler.
One night coming home from the tavern, drunk as usual, I walked through a gospel meeting on the sidewalk. The speaker had the God-given sense not to argue with a drunkard, but he slipped a tract into my pocket.
About noon the next day, waking up, I went through my pockets, looking for something to steady my nerves. Instead, I found a tract containing the Word of God. I read it and knelt down, but did not know how to pray.
Finally a verse of Scripture came to me that my aunt had taught me when I was a little boy. It was Isaiah 53:5: “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed.” This was just what my weary soul needed.
I rose from my knees a new creature in Christ Jesus, and today it is my privilege to teach and preach the Lord Jesus Christ everywhere I go.