An Unexpected Encounter

While in the Navy my ship pulled into port in Jacksonville, Florida for some needed repairs and updates. One day I had to go into town for some supplies for our division which were not available on the Naval Station. While driving into Jacksonville I passed an open field with a large tent in the center.

Thinking it was a circus come to town, I glanced at it and saw a large sign with the words: “Tent Revival 7pm Nightly.” I had seen the movie Elmer Gantry starring Burt Lancaster and was immediately intrigued. Having never experienced a tent revival, I thought it would be fun for Denice and me to check it out. Plus, I was sure it would make Denice happy that I was wanting to go to a religious service.

We lived in the rear portion of a mobile home which we rented from an elderly couple. We had our own entrance, a bedroom, bathroom, living room, and kitchen. Each room was very small, but our rent was cheap, which was necessary as I made very little income from the Navy as an enlisted sailor.

I had joined the Navy rather than be drafted by the Army. The Vietnam War was in high gear, and they were drafting every able-bodied young man, most who were not old enough to even vote, but were being sent to fight a war. I wanted to serve my country, but I had no desire to march through the rice fields of Vietnam. I loved the ocean and being on the water.

I had grown up spending a lot of time boating and even building boats. My father, brother, and I built everything from small fishing boats to large cabin cruisers. Each was built completely by hand and was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. My father was a skilled craftsman and a perfectionist.

As I stepped into our little home, Denice was at the sink preparing dinner. Glancing over to the crib in the living room, I saw Stacy sleeping soundly.

“There is a tent revival in town, and we are going to it,” I said matter-of-factly.

Denice froze for a moment to gather her emotions and thoughts. “Wonderful,” was her response. She tried not to act too excited, but I knew she was thrilled.

Loading Stacy into her seat in the back, we headed downtown to the revival. This was the scene Denice longed for—our family going to church together. And God knew her heart’s cry.

The Young Man Who Knelt Beside Me

A large tent sat in the middle of an open field. Because we arrived early, there were hardly any cars, so I parked quite close. The tent was large with sawdust on the ground and an ocean of white wooden folding chairs. At one end of the tent was a high platform with a banner across the back that read: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.”

I found us seats in the middle of one of the back rows. As we sat down, I noticed a group of women walking back and forth in front of the platform praying. Other than them, we were the only people in the entire tent, which made me feel somewhat safe. This was a completely new experience for me, and I knew I had no control over it—other than our escape route if needed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a young Black man walking in, and to my surprise he walked straight to our row and headed toward us. Without saying a word, he came right up to where I was sitting and knelt at the chair next to me. He lifted his face and began praying quietly. So quiet I did not hear a single word he said.

He simply knelt there with his face uplifted, eyes closed, and the sweetest, most peaceful look I had ever seen on a person. I could not help myself; my gaze was transfixed on the young man kneeling next to me.

A peace flooded over me as he prayed, enveloping me like a cloud. I could not move or look elsewhere, nor did I want to. I can still see his beautiful face today as I write this all these many years later.

Who was that young man? Why did he do that? There were well over a thousand empty chairs in that tent that night. Why the one next to me? And why did he not utter a single word, but simply lift his face toward heaven?

And why kneel by The One In The Back?

A Lasting Impact

I will not know this side of heaven, but I will never forget it this side of heaven either. I will never forget his face, nor the tangible peace that flooded over me as he knelt beside me. For a brief moment I felt heaven. It was as if he opened a door, or a window into heaven, allowing its fragrance to fill the air.

His prayer changed the atmosphere. I remember not one word the preacher spoke that night or any of the service, but I will never forget that encounter with a young man kneeling by my side praying. That young man touched my life in a special way.

He did not preach the gospel to me, or tell me about Jesus, or that I needed to surrender my life to Christ—or even say a word to me. And yet he did, in a most profound way. I was an unsaved, ungodly young husband and father with no desire for God in my life or even a sense of the need. But that experience marked my life and touched my empty soul.

I felt something that sin and the pleasures of the world could never give. And one day I discovered it for myself.

Never doubt the effect of your prayers, and even your presence, on the lives of others—especially those who desperately need to know God is real and that He cares. You carry a presence, a very important presence… something the world does not have or understand, and yet cannot deny.

I could not deny what I felt that evening in a tent in Jacksonville, as a young man knelt in the sawdust next to The One In The Back.