Tom’s Story
• 5 min. read • grade level: 4
Well, I was the sinner of sinners here in our little town. Everyone knew Tom Morris. His very name stood for wickedness, as many here would still tell you. My poor mother, as far as she knew, tried to train me right, but I started to drink at an early age. As I got older I began to drink more than ever, and my youngest brother was right with me in all kinds of wickedness. But God had mercy in store for me! One day my brother and I decided to go together up into the mountains for a sort of wood-cutting, picnic spree. We took some drink along, and after we had enjoyed ourselves for some time the weather became very calm and still. Suddenly black clouds covered the sky, and a few minutes later came one of the most terrific storms that I ever witnessed. Hail, thunder and lightning-I thought the end of the world had come! I grabbed my brother’s arm and said, “Come away home! The Old Man up in the sky is very mad today!” As I spoke these profane words, I was blinded by a vivid flash of lightning which struck me and threw me some yards. I lay stunned for some time. When I came round my brother was shaking me and anxiously calling my name. The storm was still raging furiously. I got on my feet and ran for a house far down in the valley. I rushed into their front room and fell on my knees, overcome with the thought of where I should have been if an angry God had cut me off in my sins. I promised Him I would be a good man, if He would only spare me. I would sin no more, but be holy. My brother came home with me, and we vowed together that we would give up our evil ways and be holy men from then on. But within three months we had forgotten our vows and were as bad as ever. About this time I got married and settled down a bit. The first year I was very happy and steady; the second year I began farming with my brother-in-law. One day, when quietly working on the farm, I heard a voice. It was perfectly clear, just as if someone spoke to me. I am sure it must have been God’s voice saying, “You have sinned and denied the Lord.” The words never left me, day or night, for six weeks. At last my sleep left me. I could not sleep for one whole week. When Saturday came I said to my wife, “I can’t stand this any longer! Get a few bottles of the strongest wine so that I can get drunk and go to sleep.” My wife refused, thinking I was going mad. I went myself and got two bottles of very strong wine and sat down to drink both off at once. But somehow I could not get what I called drunk, though I felt wild-mad-like a very devil, in fact. My family did not know what was the matter with me; I had told no one of my feelings. My brother came in, and even he said, “Now, Tom, you are going on too badly.” But I just threw him out of the house. My wife tried to speak to me, but I turned her out also. My father next came in and said some very hard things to me. But he had to retreat as the others had done. Last of all my mother came in. Walking towards me slowly, she gently took my hand in hers and asked me to kneel down. Then she prayed for me. I don’t remember what she said, only she cried for mercy for her poor boy and made me promise I would not harm my wife. That was on Saturday night, and I could neither get drunk nor go to sleep. I just lay awake through every hour, crying to God for mercy and for the light of another day. Just before dawn I took a sharp knife and went outside. I planned to end my miserable life. I had no other feeling but misery! misery! misery! I began to blame God. Why had He made me so wicked? Why had He not made me like others? Why should He send me to hell? I grasped the knife to cut my throat. As I did, a thought came. The Bible! I should look at a Bible! I certainly had none, but I went to my sister’s house and asked if she had a Bible. She brought out a New Testament from the bottom of a drawer, and it opened at the seventh chapter of Romans. We read it through once, then a second time. We read it again a third time-and the light broke through! I saw that if the great Apostle Paul could not be what he should be, how could I expect to be? And I saw that it was not a question of my being what I should be for God, but of what Christ is for me! At once I was filled with peace and joy. What Christ was for Paul, He was for me as well! If I was mad before with guilt and despair, I was now almost beside myself with joy. I forgot all about the knife! I told my mother what God had done for my soul, and we knelt down together and thanked Him. Truly, it is “a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Tim. 1:1515This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief. (1 Timothy 1:15))-even the chief of sinners!