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Tract 106
Audio download at bottom of page
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MY FATHER-A NEW MAN
I recall little of father in my childhood. From the earliest moments of life until about seven years old, I hardly knew I had a daddy, for he was always away. One incident during that time I distinctly remember, however. On a quiet Christmas Eve when I was five years old, and others were apparently thinking on the Christ Child, my mother had to tell us children that she must call up the saloon and get daddy to come home before we could have our Christmas. That was our lot, for he was a habitual drunkard.
Since then he has told me that from the time he was a small boy, he thirsted for something satisfy him. In his youth, because of this longing, he quit school and found a job working for $1.00 a day, from sun-up to sun-down, and then would give the money to his mother.
By the time he was fifteen years old he was smoking, and later drinking. It was then that he started getting into many kinds of trouble. Finally, he jumped a train and ran away from home, after which followed fights unceasing and jail often.
As time went on, he married. Many people told mother that she ought to get a divorce, but she stuck with dad. At this time there were two children, my sister and me. Although she was not a Christian, Mom prayed for a boy. She thought it would change him. And although a son was born into our family in 1948, no change came about.
It was in 1951 that daddy found himself in another saloon, when he and another man, both tough scrappers, fell into an argument. After a brief battle, dad ran out of the saloon and leaned against a car to catch his breath. He picked up a brick and swore to himself, "If he comes out after me, I'll kill him." Fortunately, the man didn't show.
Months later, at a New Year’s Eve party in another saloon, dad made a resolution that at 12 o'clock midnight he and mom were walking out of that saloon. He was finished with drinking, as far as he was concerned, and tears streamed down his face on the way home. He didn't realize what was happening to him, but the Lord was beginning to talk to his heart. He was finished, done, divorced from it all; but just six weeks later his willpower was overcome, and he found himself again back in the saloons.
Mother started going to church and taking us kids. The church was in revival at that time, and the evangelist came out to see if he could get my dad to go. But he made excuses. "I need a haircut." "I need a pair of shoes." But the preacher’s reply was, "Whosoever will may come" and, "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."
Dad asked, "Is that in the Bible?" He was shown Isaiah 1:18, the very Scripture. And that verse got through to his heart. After the evangelist left, he started his old truck, and drove down the highway. At a bend in the road, which he has pointed out to me many times since, and with a cigarette in his mouth, he heard God distinctly speak. At that point, heavy conviction came on him. He longed to change his way of living, but didn't know how.
He looked up through the windshield with tears streaming down his face, and asked God to forgive him for all his wicked living. The Great Forgiver miraculously changed his life. The load of sin left at 1:05 p.m. on that happy day!
When he came home, mother said he looked like an angel. His face was glowing and tears were streaming into his soon-opened Bible. The first Scripture he read was that of John 3: 7, "Ye must be born again." And he said, "That’s what happened to me; I feel I am born again."
Since that time, he has never gone back to his old ways of living. It has been twenty years now, and the only backtracking he has done is to straighten out the old paths and make many restitutions--yes, including one to the man whom he wanted to kill.
Although he has been to jail since he was converted, it has not been as an inmate. But he has preached his new way of living in many jails, as well as on the mission fields.
On this Father’s Day, I am proud to have him as a father. And as I reminisce, I see that my life was also changed because of his. If it hadn’t been for his miraculous rebirth, I would likely have followed in his early footsteps and never have come to know Jesus as my Saviour. Oh, how I thank God that He reached him--because He gave me a new daddy. His name? Mr. Emmett Gilbert, a friend to the friendless and an inspiration to all who know him.
Written by Mrs. Barbara Richter.
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