SALVATION--Betty Baxter

© Danna Shirley

            I was an okay person. I hadn’t murdered anyone. No criminal record, no addictions, etc. If anyone had asked me, I would have said I was a Christian because my parents took me to the Methodist church growing up. I quit attending at age 16 when my parents also quit attending.

            Then twelve years into our marriage (I was 32), my husband, Ron, began reading the Bible at night. I don’t know where he found one although we must have had one in the house somewhere. I noticed immediately he had quit drinking his usual six-pack per evening and his bad language had all but ceased, both linked to when he first began reading the Bible. I was elated to see these changes but hesitated to draw attention to them, so I remained silent and just watched to see what would happen next.  

           This behavior, reading his Bible and not drinking or using profanity, continued for a few weeks before I finally asked what had spurred on this new development. He said he realized that drinking was going to kill him if he didn’t stop. I assumed he was looking to God for help in this area. 

           Ron’s life changed drastically with this new found faith. I, however, was my usual self. One night he shared with me an experience that he had with God. Ron had been a drinker since his teens and much more of a drinker during his Navy days. Quitting cold turkey seemed an impossible feat but he had done it with God’s help. Then one afternoon, sitting at his desk, a craving for a cold beer came over him. He sat there and prayed, “Lord, take this desire from me.” He said he felt a physical sensation of a huge weight being lifted from his shoulders. He never craved alcohol again. He was 33 at the time.

           Then Hurricane Frederic hit the Alabama coast on September 12, 1979 and because Ron worked for the Alabama Power Company in Demopolis, he was sent down to the coast with a crew to help restore power. His orders were to give the guys anything they wanted. Some of the first places they restored were restaurants so people could at least get something to eat. Of course, the restaurant owners fed the crew handsomely for their trouble. 

           After a few long, hot fourteen-hour days, the men wanted something cold to drink so Ron sprang for a keg of beer. Unfortunately, he was hot and thirsty, too, so decided to have a few beers with the guys.  His thought was that he had quit drinking so easily the first time it should be a snap to do it again after the job was finished. Not so! He suffered through three days of pain and sweats to cleanse his system. At that point he realized God’s grace had helped him quit the first time but He was not so merciful the second time. It was a hard lesson learned and one for which he never put God to the test again.

           Shortly thereafter, Ron resigned his job in Demopolis to return to Montgomery and pursue his Masters Degree. We settled into the house behind his parents on North Panama Street. So far, his Bible reading had not affected my life until he announced one Saturday that we would all be going to church the next morning.

      My response: “Well, you can go if you want to, but I’m not going!”

      Again he said, “We’re ALL going to church!”

      “And just where are we going to church?” I asked. I had been raised Methodist but had not darkened a church door on a regular basis in sixteen years. Ron was raised Baptist but his mother now attended an Assembly of God.

           His answer, “We’re going to First Assembly of God!”

           I sputtered and spit my protest. All I knew of the Assemblies was what I had heard my mother say, “They roll down the aisles and swing from the chandeliers.” I did not want to go to that church!”

           “Why don’t we at least go some place familiar, like a Baptist or Methodist church?” I asked.

           “Because I like what the Assemblies believe,” he replied. “It’s all Bible!”

           As we walked into First Assembly on Sunday morning, we were greeted with friendly faces. Even by 1980’s standards, this was a huge church. Ron and I retreated to the back of the upper balcony to blend into the woodwork. He was just as uncomfortable as I about being in this strange place. I decided I was just there for observation. I would not participate! As I looked around the sanctuary, the first thing that jumped out at me was the joy on everyone’s face; they were truly happy to be there, something I had never experienced in my own childhood church.    

           As a product of the sixties, the Beatles and Rolling Stones, I immediately enjoyed the praise service. The music was full of fire and the words were glorifying God. There was clapping and jubilant singing with hands raised. Ron and I stood there like statues. Even though I was thoroughly enjoying the music, I was afraid to let myself be ‘caught up’ in the moment. Then the music changed from joyous praise to reverential worship. The tempo slowed and hearts were in deep worship. I shut my eyes and allowed myself to feel this expression of awe. I didn’t want to ever leave God’s presence. As wonderful as the worship service was, the sermon by Dr. Coy Barker captivated me. I had never heard the scriptures preached with such insight and understanding. 

           When we left the church, Ron asked what I thought. “Uh, it was okay,” I said nonchalantly, but I walked away with a hunger for more. For three months we continued visiting First Assembly during the morning service only. In that length of time, we had moved from the back row of the balcony to the front row.  I had begun to clap with the music, just a little, but I still refused to raise my hands, although I had since learned that it was just an expression of surrender to Almighty God and it agreed with many scriptures.

          Then one Sunday morning we had a guest speaker, Betty Baxter, standing in the pulpit straight and tall. She gave her testimony of how God had healed her from a crippling deformity. Again we were mesmerized as she shared this miracle from God. Her last words were, “If you wish to hear the rest of my testimony, you’ll have to come back tonight.”

         We had never attended the evening service and I wasn’t about to ask Ron to return but I prayed, Lord, if we come back tonight, there is no way I’m not walking that aisle to receive You as my Savior. On the way home from church, Ron said he wanted to hear Betty Baxter again. My heart was eager with expectation all afternoon. I didn’t realize I could have received Jesus into my heart at any time, in any place; all I had to do was invite Him.

         That night Betty Baxter shared about how God had visited her bedroom and raised her crippled body up to be straight and strong. All eyes were closed when the altar call came for those who wanted to give their hearts to Jesus. As I reached over to Ron to tell him I was going forward, our hands touched; he was reaching over to tell me the same thing. We walked the aisle together on May 18^th, 1980. 

        The next Sunday we moved from the balcony to the main floor. The music was even more heavenly and I found myself raising my hands in worship to God. I opened my eyes and looked at my arms in the air. I remember telling myself, “You’re a Methodist! You can’t raise your arms!” and I pulled them quickly down to my sides. Again, as I was lost in worship, my arms would float into the air as if they had been filled with helium. No matter how many times I made a concerted effort to keep my arms by my side, I would find them in the air—surrendered to God. I’ve never again tried to smother that longing in my spirit.      

          I have been a tortoise Christian, slow and steady.  I’ve had my peak times and my pit times, but God has been faithful. Just knowing He’s only one prayer away gets me through the day and answered prayer continually reminds me of His faithfulness. I don’t know how anyone makes it through this life without the Lord.

          Becoming a child of the King brought calm and security to my spirit and the awesome blessing of being bold for Him to touch other lives. One of my favorite scriptures is 2 Corinthians 1:3-5. He has brought so many people across my path to comfort them in the same way I have been comforted by God.
          For someone who has not experienced the touch of God in their spirit, I realize hearing my story can sound 'sweet and sentimental' but there is a supernatural change in your very being when God gets hold of you. My thoughts changed, my character changed, my words changed. Self came down off the pedestal and others were lifted up. 
           A life totally surrendered to God puts His thoughts and His will first and obedience comes to the forefront. You still have free will to do your own thing...but you don't want to.

  I love You, Lord, and I lift my voice, to worship You, oh my soul rejoice!

I am not ashamed, for I know Whom I have believed

and am persuaded that He is able to keep that

which I have committed to Him until that Day.” 

(2 Timothy 1:12)

Years later I found Betty Baxter’s book in an antique shop in Oklahoma.