Pastor Barry Jones
I was born in St. Michael's
Hospital
in the city of Toronto. My growing up years were spent in the Toronto
suburb of Leaside. I would have to say that I had a pretty normal,
middle-class upbringing.Our
home was a Christian home. My parents not only sent us to church and
Sunday School, but came as well. And so, with church and Sunday School
part of the routine every week, I grew up knowing all the familiar
stories from the Bible - David and Goliath, Daniel and the lions' den,
etc.
But that's
all they were to
me-stories-exciting, full of adventure, but stories nonetheless. Until
something happened to me. At 9 years of age, I was diagnosed with a
congenital heart defect, which required pioneering, open heart surgery
when I reached the age of 10.
The
night before the operation, the Pastor of our church came to my
hospital bed to pray with me. I cannot remember one word of his prayer,
but I vividly recall the sense of peace that came over me as he prayed.
This was really my first experience of the reality of God in my life.
God was no longer just the key character in the Bible stories that I
enjoyed; He was personal, and interested in me and my welfare.
The
operation went extraordinarily well,
which I saw as a direct and definite answer to prayer. It was that
operation, and the impact of the Pastor's prayer, that started me
thinking about the place of God in my life.
But being a
typical kid, I really didn't
think about it too much until 3 years later, when for the first time in
my life, I attended a Christian summer camp.
I was
desperately homesick, and went whining to the Camp Director one night.
He told me basically to go back to my tent and "enjoy"
my time at camp. SURE! But the very next night after supper, before all
the campers left the dining room, the Camp Director told a story.
A
widow and her two small sons were destitute, with no food in the house.
On Sunday, the two sons went to Sunday School, and learned how God sent
ravens to feed Elijah. The boys came home, telling their mother to
leave the front door to the house open so God's raven could come in
with food. Mother wisely agreed to do so. All day the door stayed open.
Just as she was about to close it at nightfall, in walked a minister
dressed in black.
He saw the open door, came in to see if there was
need, and returned with lots of food. The two boys said, "He
was dressed all in black-just like God's raven."
The
Camp Director talked to me later that night, explaining how I was as
helpless to deal with my sin as that family was to provide food. But
God made provision for the forgiveness of sin through His Son Jesus
Christ.
That night,
I
asked Jesus to come into my life, to be my personal Saviour. On the
last day of camp, I professed faith in Jesus openly, when the Camp
Director asked all who had accepted Christ while at camp to stand. A
few months later I was baptized.
Since then, I have grown in my relationship with Jesus. I felt God's call into ministry after a teaching career, and am now pastoring a church. Through all of life's hills and valleys, Jesus has been with me. And the greatest assurance is to know that when I die, I will go to Heaven forever.
Feel free to e-mail me at barryjones@grimsbybaptist.org.