” But there shall by no means enter it (Heaven) anything that defiles, or causes[b] an abomination or a lie, but only those who are written in the Lamb’s Book of Life.” (Revelation 21:27)
People ask me why, at this late stage in my life, am I so interested in sharing the Gospel with young men and women. After more than 30 years of pastoring churches, why have I now become an evangelist with the Fellowship of Christian Athletes?
It’s like this. And I must go way back to 1966-1967. My name wasn’t written in the Lamb’s Book of Life. I had not surrendered my heart to the Lordship of Jesus Christ. I was lost. And if I had died in that condition, I’d have gone right to Hell. That’s what the Bible says.
As I look back on it, the scary thing is that I had just graduated from college and entered the Undergraduate Pilot Training Program offered by the U.S. Air Force. Upon graduation, I’d be headed for Vietnam. And I never gave a thought to my relationship with God.
My roommate in pilot training was George. We lived in an apartment together for almost the entire 52 weeks we were stationed at Williams Air Force Base in Phoenix, Arizona. When we weren’t flying and studying the “Tech Manual” of our aircraft, we were partying. George had a Pontiac GTO. The girls loved it. What a life. Death wasn’t on our radar.
Neither of us were professing Christians. When you’re 22 or 23 years old, who ever thinks about dying? We sure didn’t
I hadn’t been to church for years even though my grandfather had been a Southern Baptist pastor, my dad was the treasurer in a Baptist church and mom was organist in an Episcopalian church. I was baptized a Baptist and confirmed and Episcopalian. But I was lost as a skunk. Actually God doesn’t have a problem with skunks. They may stink but they don’t sin.
George flew as a “Forward Air Controller” (FAC). He found the enemy, identified their location from the air with “smoke bombs” and then the fighter aircraft (F-100’s and F-4’s) would come in and bomb the hell out of them.
I was an “Air Commando”. We resupplied the “Green Beret’s” and Marine outposts pretty much where trucks couldn’t go.
George and I got together several times while we were “in country”. But, at the eight month mark of his twelve month commitment, George “bought the farm”. That’s pilot talk for getting killed.
Now George’s name is on the wall in Washington DC with 58,000 other soldiers and as the Holy Spirit would have it, I surrendered my life to Jesus at 30 years of age and my name is in the Lamb’s Book of Life.
I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to keep the names of young and old “off the walls” of life unless and until those names have been inscribed into the Lamb’s Book of Life. It doesn’t matter how many company’s bear your name. And, only Man cares about what church has your name on the pew or on the wall. Satan will do whatever he can to keep you from getting your name enrolled in that Heavenly Book.
I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to get George and Georgette to get their eternal values straightened out.