PearlB
Active
- Joined
- Mar 26, 2021
- Messages
- 223
RAY’S TESTIMONY
I was born and brought up in Darcy Lever and have very fond boyhood memories of belonging to the local Methodist church; going through Sunday school and then, as I got older, graduating to the main adult meetings. I seem to remember that I was greatly influenced by the teaching I heard in the sermons and developed a belief in Jesus which led me to read my bible from cover to cover at a very young age. It was a great life. I took part in all the concerts, pantomimes and anything else that went on. What commitment!
Sadly though, as I grew up I lost my way and was spiritually dead until Gareth was born in 1977. During the pregnancy Pat and I prayed every night over this new life inside her, which was quite surprising as neither of us had thought much about God throughout our years together. We made the decision even before he was born that we would have him Christened and take him to church every Sunday so that when the time came he could make his own decision about God.
Our local church was St Andrew’s Radcliffe and John, the vicar at that time, gave us a copy of ‘Journey into Life’ and took us through some introductory courses at the vicarage. During this time my spirituality was re-awakened and we began to want more and were ready to go to every meeting we could get to. We couldn’t get enough of the gospel; we wanted it all and we wanted it now. (Sorry Freddie Mercury). The vicar was very aware that his flock of born again believers would need feeding and took us to meetings in Manchester, Littleborough and Bolton. Billy Graham, David Watson, Colin Urquhart, George Miller . . .we saw them; we heard them. And still we were hungry for more.
In May 1984 we joined with Claremont where we used to say, “We are being fed meat and two veg.” Once again we gave our full commitment and entered into everything; helping to restore the building; taking part in ‘Promised’ everything was great. Commitment classes, new Christians group, which I took people to, prayer meetings and housegroups knowing that there was more to come from God. At this time I had been unemployed for almost three years but after gifting my last tenner at the dales week that year I returned home to learned that God had given me a hundred pound a week job in a small, family owned, engineering works.
Two years later and we were able to move back to Bolton to the house we still live in; a house that Pat truly believed God had given us. We were very happy for a while but things were about to take a turn for the worse. It wasn’t long before I started mishandling money; using credit cards and running up debts, which I could ill afford on my wages. Pat was way ahead of me in her faith which used to irritate me. Work was becoming a nightmare. My boss was so abusive that would take weeks off work vowing never to go back. I tried, unsuccessfully, to find another job but the debts just kept piling up. I was trapped, enslaved; bailiffs; demanding letters; threats of court action; all of which was causing friction in our marriage; even fighting. Yes, Pat and I fighting!
Remarkably during this time, although my boss and I had a volatile relationship, I was offered a promotion to skilled status after he won a lucrative nine month contract. This meant I was working seven days a week plus overtime in the evenings, sometimes as late as 9 pm. At the time I thought this extra money was a ‘Godsend’, but at the same time wondered if it was right because I was working on anti-tank rocket shells.
Soon the leaders at Claremont decided that Ray Ball was no longer committed and I was removed from membership. This didn’t worry me though as I was going to get myself straight and start again. Then things got even worse! One day in August 1989, after a blazing row I lost it. Pat was preparing for a bath and had filled the bathtub, when I burst in. Full of anger, rage, resentment and hopelessness I attacked her, threw her into the bath and tried to drown her. Thankfully for her sake I released her and told her to take Gareth and get out of my house. She took me at my word and next day I arrived home to an empty house; Pat and Gareth had gone! I thought, “Good!” I was glad, I didn’t care. I didn’t know where they were. Was I bothered? Not a bit!
After a week Bob and Margaret Bennison, who were close neighbours, came round to try to appeal to my better nature but I was having none of it. A few nights later Bob brought Raymond Manahotoe round to see me but I was hardened and could not be coerced or reasoned with; my heart was like granite. A fortnight had passed when Bob knocked me up on the Sunday morning and announced he was taking me to a church meeting at Kersal. I was too tired to put up any resistance so reluctantly I went with him, thinking that if they thought I was going to have any remorse they were very much mistaken.
We arrived at Kersal, a school assembly hall as I remember, and the place was packed. Worship had already started; due to my stalling tactics we were late; and we got places about twelve rows from the front at the left hand side. Everyone had their hands raised but mine were in my pockets. I was in a world of my own thinking, “How can I get out of here?” I don’t recall how long I was like this and then I saw Pat standing nearer the front on the opposite side. She was standing with her arms in the air worshipping the Lord. “The two-faced . . . How can she?” I thought, “Why isn’t she as miserable as me?” Then I remember somebody on the platform saying, ”Someone here this morning is really hurting and God wants to take away that hurt right now.” “Well, it’s not ME” I said silently. “Come forward now and meet with the Lord” came the voice from the front again. But I still said, “IT’S NOT ME”
Now you’ve all heard stories of people losing control of their limbs, well suddenly it was happening to me. I was walking out to the front. “I’m not going to respond! No way!” I was helped onto the platform and then the floodgates opened. I have never cried like that before or since. I just could not control myself, I wept for what seemed like ages. People prayed for me and I called out, “I want Pat, I want Pat” They brought Pat to me but I could see what damage I had done. She did not want me. She did not trust me. She had been prepared to start a new life without me. I asked her to forgive me and give me another chance as I still loved her deeply.
What the Holy Spirit said to her that Sunday afternoon I do not know, but I do know this; He has been working in us ever since. He has restored our marriage and I can honestly say that we are totally different people to what we once were, with a love for God and each other that has no bounds. Praise God . . .!!
I was born and brought up in Darcy Lever and have very fond boyhood memories of belonging to the local Methodist church; going through Sunday school and then, as I got older, graduating to the main adult meetings. I seem to remember that I was greatly influenced by the teaching I heard in the sermons and developed a belief in Jesus which led me to read my bible from cover to cover at a very young age. It was a great life. I took part in all the concerts, pantomimes and anything else that went on. What commitment!
Sadly though, as I grew up I lost my way and was spiritually dead until Gareth was born in 1977. During the pregnancy Pat and I prayed every night over this new life inside her, which was quite surprising as neither of us had thought much about God throughout our years together. We made the decision even before he was born that we would have him Christened and take him to church every Sunday so that when the time came he could make his own decision about God.
Our local church was St Andrew’s Radcliffe and John, the vicar at that time, gave us a copy of ‘Journey into Life’ and took us through some introductory courses at the vicarage. During this time my spirituality was re-awakened and we began to want more and were ready to go to every meeting we could get to. We couldn’t get enough of the gospel; we wanted it all and we wanted it now. (Sorry Freddie Mercury). The vicar was very aware that his flock of born again believers would need feeding and took us to meetings in Manchester, Littleborough and Bolton. Billy Graham, David Watson, Colin Urquhart, George Miller . . .we saw them; we heard them. And still we were hungry for more.
In May 1984 we joined with Claremont where we used to say, “We are being fed meat and two veg.” Once again we gave our full commitment and entered into everything; helping to restore the building; taking part in ‘Promised’ everything was great. Commitment classes, new Christians group, which I took people to, prayer meetings and housegroups knowing that there was more to come from God. At this time I had been unemployed for almost three years but after gifting my last tenner at the dales week that year I returned home to learned that God had given me a hundred pound a week job in a small, family owned, engineering works.
Two years later and we were able to move back to Bolton to the house we still live in; a house that Pat truly believed God had given us. We were very happy for a while but things were about to take a turn for the worse. It wasn’t long before I started mishandling money; using credit cards and running up debts, which I could ill afford on my wages. Pat was way ahead of me in her faith which used to irritate me. Work was becoming a nightmare. My boss was so abusive that would take weeks off work vowing never to go back. I tried, unsuccessfully, to find another job but the debts just kept piling up. I was trapped, enslaved; bailiffs; demanding letters; threats of court action; all of which was causing friction in our marriage; even fighting. Yes, Pat and I fighting!
Remarkably during this time, although my boss and I had a volatile relationship, I was offered a promotion to skilled status after he won a lucrative nine month contract. This meant I was working seven days a week plus overtime in the evenings, sometimes as late as 9 pm. At the time I thought this extra money was a ‘Godsend’, but at the same time wondered if it was right because I was working on anti-tank rocket shells.
Soon the leaders at Claremont decided that Ray Ball was no longer committed and I was removed from membership. This didn’t worry me though as I was going to get myself straight and start again. Then things got even worse! One day in August 1989, after a blazing row I lost it. Pat was preparing for a bath and had filled the bathtub, when I burst in. Full of anger, rage, resentment and hopelessness I attacked her, threw her into the bath and tried to drown her. Thankfully for her sake I released her and told her to take Gareth and get out of my house. She took me at my word and next day I arrived home to an empty house; Pat and Gareth had gone! I thought, “Good!” I was glad, I didn’t care. I didn’t know where they were. Was I bothered? Not a bit!
After a week Bob and Margaret Bennison, who were close neighbours, came round to try to appeal to my better nature but I was having none of it. A few nights later Bob brought Raymond Manahotoe round to see me but I was hardened and could not be coerced or reasoned with; my heart was like granite. A fortnight had passed when Bob knocked me up on the Sunday morning and announced he was taking me to a church meeting at Kersal. I was too tired to put up any resistance so reluctantly I went with him, thinking that if they thought I was going to have any remorse they were very much mistaken.
We arrived at Kersal, a school assembly hall as I remember, and the place was packed. Worship had already started; due to my stalling tactics we were late; and we got places about twelve rows from the front at the left hand side. Everyone had their hands raised but mine were in my pockets. I was in a world of my own thinking, “How can I get out of here?” I don’t recall how long I was like this and then I saw Pat standing nearer the front on the opposite side. She was standing with her arms in the air worshipping the Lord. “The two-faced . . . How can she?” I thought, “Why isn’t she as miserable as me?” Then I remember somebody on the platform saying, ”Someone here this morning is really hurting and God wants to take away that hurt right now.” “Well, it’s not ME” I said silently. “Come forward now and meet with the Lord” came the voice from the front again. But I still said, “IT’S NOT ME”
Now you’ve all heard stories of people losing control of their limbs, well suddenly it was happening to me. I was walking out to the front. “I’m not going to respond! No way!” I was helped onto the platform and then the floodgates opened. I have never cried like that before or since. I just could not control myself, I wept for what seemed like ages. People prayed for me and I called out, “I want Pat, I want Pat” They brought Pat to me but I could see what damage I had done. She did not want me. She did not trust me. She had been prepared to start a new life without me. I asked her to forgive me and give me another chance as I still loved her deeply.
What the Holy Spirit said to her that Sunday afternoon I do not know, but I do know this; He has been working in us ever since. He has restored our marriage and I can honestly say that we are totally different people to what we once were, with a love for God and each other that has no bounds. Praise God . . .!!
