Carol
HE PUT THE FEAR OF GOD IN ME
As a child, I was very active, and a lot of times I got into trouble and found myself sent to my room without any privileges. I did not know that God was using this time to train me. I usually found myself reading the Bible. One particular summer, during one of my punishments, the crusade was on TV. It was a natural process for me to watch, because we were trained by my grandmother to watch the crusade. So I started watching him on my own. I was about ten years old, and something about this message was so interesting. He was talking about going to hell, and I realized that I did not want to go there. I remember crying, and then I accepted the Lord when he offered the plan of salvation. The next day, I told one of my brothers, and he accepted the Lord himself. Since then, I have been growing in the grace and knowledge of Jesus and God’s love for us through Him. I still make mistakes, but I know that if I go to 1 John 1:9, I can confess my faults to God and He will forgive me, for I am covered by Jesus’ blood. Now I am a minister of the Gospel and I have a PhD in social work. One of my greatest desires is to meet the man who led me to Christ and to thank him for extending his life for the purpose of Christ. His ministry is still sprouting new roots. May God bless him, for I am better because God put him in my life when I was a sapling.
MY FIRST FAITH WALK
In September 1957, when I was eight years old, I attended your entire crusade in Louisville with my church. During that week, I gave my heart to the Lord Jesus. I remember in the following months that your association would send me letters of encouragement, and my mom was so proud of those. She’d put them on the refrigerator and think they came directly from you.
I have swayed many times in the working world, trying to please everybody else. But now I’m very happy to say that I have a wonderful relationship with my precious Lord, and it grows more precious every day. I’m learning to tell my Lord every day to “take over the day,” like I’ve heard you say so often. One of the most amazing things of my fifty-year walk with the Lord is that He has never taken His hand off of me, no matter what. It’s amazing what a great Lord we serve! Thank you so much for all of your years of encouragement, teaching, and steadfastness for our Lord.
A SEED PLANTED
I would like to say thank you to Billy Graham, a wonderful teacher and a truly godly man. As a child, I watched him on TV. I know that helped plant a seed in me. Billy’s compassion, humble nature, and authority while speaking of the love of God was such a blessing to me. At such a young age, I understood that salvation through Jesus Christ was so very important. Now, about twenty-five years later, I know that watching the TV programs helped plant the seed of the importance of living my life for the Lord. Thank you, Billy, for all you have done.
FAITH AND TRUST
I grew up in Logan Square, inner city of Chicago. When I was about eight years old, I came to know my Lord. I remember Billy Graham working with the Moody Bible Institute in those years. I remember Youth for Christ. I remember coming forward at the church service to accept Jesus as my Savior. It was my “other birthday,” and birthdays were very special. I grew up in a home filled with abuse and neglect yet at a very young age learned about God and Jesus. I knew that I would never be alone, that God promised, “I will never leave you or forsake you, I will be with you to the end of the age.” That promise sustained me throughout my life, and still does.
Today, I am so incredibly blessed, and I pray that I am an example of a Christian mom, grandma, and person. Billy Graham truly influenced me from a very young age and continues to influence me today. Thank you for the Classic programs—truly a wonderful time to remember those special moments with Billy and all of his gifted people. God has richly blessed my life. I am humbled.
Lyn
AFTER THIRTY-FIVE YEARS, THANK YOU, BILLY
I received the Lord as my Savior at a young age and was baptized at age nine. Not unusual, considering I come from a long line of ministers of the Gospel, going back many generations. But I got drawn away by worldly pursuits. At age thirty, when I finally had everything I thought would make me happy, I felt empty and unfulfilled. Every Sunday, I watched a Billy Graham crusade on television, and when Billy gave the invitation to come forward and they played “Just As I Am,” I’d begin to weep and feel such remorse and longing in my heart. I had received my Savior but had never made Him Lord of my life. Billy’s message to give Him my all was really hitting home. One Sunday night, on my bed after hearing Billy preach, I truly made Jesus Lord of my life. That was more than thirty-five years ago, and I’ve never stopped testifying of the change Billy Graham made in my life. But I have never once personally thanked the man myself. While listening to Graham, Billy’s grandson, on TBN, I was deeply moved to write and say thank you, Billy Graham.
MY FUTURE HUSBAND
In the 1960s, my family attended the Billy Graham crusade at the Miami Beach Convention Center. It was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. I am always inspired by Billy Graham’s messages and his sharing of God’s love for us. Even though we are so undeserving of it, it is still so freely given to us. Also, that the power of prayer is in the One who hears our prayers!
After more than thirty-five years of marriage, my husband and I started talking about the Billy Graham crusades one day. I asked him if he had attended with his family. I told him I thought my family had gone at least one or two nights, and he said that, knowing his mother, his family had gone every single night!
I got to thinking that, many years before I had met my husband, God had placed us both at the same Billy Graham crusade at the same time—we could have been sitting in the same row. Little did I know at the time that God was preparing me to be a godly wife and my husband to be a godly man for someone at that same convention center.
It wasn’t until, after thirty-five years of marriage, we discovered that we had been there at the same time, that I realized how awesome God’s plan is for our lives, and how many more of those experiences we will know of fully when we reach heaven.
I ALWAYS WANTED TO ATTEND YOUR CRUSADE
I was a little girl from the small island of Dominica in the West Indies. I used to listen to your preaching on the radio; we had no television at the time. I always admired you and your faith and hoped that one day I would be able to attend at least one of your crusades. I was blessed to attend your last crusade in New York, in (I think) 2005. I attended all three days, and it was such a blessing and an honor to be in your presence. I thank God for someone like you who has been such an obedient servant. I pray God’s blessings and wisdom will be with you and family forever.
Veronica
RIGHT THERE IN OUR SEATS
In 1957, I went to New York City with my mother, my brother, and my grandmother. My grandmother was having a cancer operation, and since my aunt lived in New York, she was certain she knew all the best doctors. While Gramma was in the hospital, we attended the Billy Graham crusade in June of that year. I was seven years old, but I heard Billy Graham enough on the radio to know that he was a special man preaching the Word of God. I was young enough at the Madison Square Garden crusade not to remember much about his sermon but that it had something to do with the heart, and that mine needed to be fixed. My brother and I wanted to go forward when Billy Graham gave the invitation, but my aunt said that we didn’t have time for all that stuff, and that it was way too crowded, and that we might get separated from her and my mother in all of the pushing and shoving. So we had to stay seated. My brother and I decided to accept Christ as our Savior right there in our seats. It didn’t matter if we were closer to Billy Graham or not. We had gotten his clear message, even as young as we were, and our lives were changed forever. Thank you, Billy.
A BROKEN HEART
I was only about six years old when I was hospitalized for mental illness. At five years old, I had decided I wanted to die. I remember standing in a dark kitchen with a knife to my heart, thinking how painful it might be, but how quickly it could end. My young
mind seemed to be so full of grownup anger and hurt. I had a loving mom, who chose to leave my abusive father and struggled to care for me and my younger sister all alone. I guess the separation was too much, or maybe my little mind couldn’t understand the abuse I had seen inflicted on my mother. So there I sat, alone, sad, and depressed in an ugly, uncaring, and cruel place. The doctors told my mom it would be the best place for me, considering the circumstances. It was more than she could bear when I had confessed my desire to die. When a Billy Graham crusade would air, my mom, my sister, and I would sit in front of the TV and listen to every word. On a lonely night in the hospital, the other kids had asked to watch a specific show, one very popular during that time. But in the midst of changing the channels, I noticed Billy Graham was on TV. I begged the nurse to turn it back to Billy Graham. The other kids begged not to, but I refused to give up. Well, that night, I watched Billy Graham from that cold and lonely place. He brought the warmth of the Lord right where I was, and at the young age of six I gave my life to the Lord. I cried and cried in front of that television set. My little heart ached, and the more I cried, the more I was comforted by the words spoken by a great man. My life was changed after that night. A couple of days later, my mom had me removed from the hospital and brought me home. I never contemplated suicide again. Billy Graham touched my life that very day. I know that one day in heaven, as I stand before my Lord and Savior, I will also stand in the presence of a godly man, and I can then say, “Thank you, Mr. Graham, for being there to help save my life.”
YOUR CRUSADES IN PANAMA CITY
When I was a little girl growing up in the Republic of Panama, my father always attended your crusades. I grew up hearing certain songs that were played during your crusades, such as “How Great Thou Art” and “He Lives, He Lives, Christ Jesus Lives Today.” Every time I hear these songs, I remember your crusades in Panama City. Thank you, Billy Graham, for your humble ways and your dedication to spreading the Gospel. May the Lord continue to richly bless you and your ministry.
THE RESPONSE
When I was about ten years old, I wrote a letter to the Billy Graham Association. I was puzzled by a certain story in the New Testament, which seemed spiritually inconsistent to me, and I wrote Mr. Graham to ask about it. Much to my surprise, he wrote me back. He did not discount my confusion or my age, but instead gave a thoughtful and serious response to my inquiry. I am forty years old now, and I still have that letter. Thank you.
“I NEVER HEARD BILLY GRAHAM SAY THAT”
The Billy Graham crusade televised program was always special to Mama and Daddy. In the late 1950s, my family would gather in our den to watch the program on our small black-and-white television. This was considered church time. A time to worship. And my parents believed we should behave exactly as if we were attending the crusade in person. Mama said it would be sacrilegious to shell butter beans while Billy Graham told us what God had directed him to tell us. That was fine by me—Lord knows I hated shelling butter beans. If I ever sat down in our home for at least three minutes, Mama would plop a big mess of butter beans in my lap. A country girl like me knew that meant two things: shut up and shell. There was only one possible way that Mama would change her mind. And that would be if Pastor Billy Graham walked to the stadium podium and said, “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, we’re coming to you live from California, and before I announce our guest singer, I’d like to take a moment and say to all who are watching by way of television that now is a great time to get all those butter beans shelled. So, as our guest comes and ministers to us in song, I urge you to pile up all the butter beans your lap will hold. Get an old empty bucket for the hulls; don’t scatter them all over the linoleum rug, because you’ll have an awful mess to clean up later. Don’t worry about those sore, rough, and raw fingertips you will have from all that butter bean shelling. I might not know what it’s like to shell butter beans and get rough fingers and split nails, but I’m going to be sharing with you tonight about someone who does. And besides, tonight’s message is about how doing nothing and just being idle could lead you into sin.”
Thank goodness, I never heard Billy Graham say that! It was wonderful just to sit and relax and enjoy myself while watching TV.
I was always delighted and excited to discover a Billy Graham telecast was scheduled. But my Uncle Bob was always more excited. Uncle Bob, my daddy’s brother and a unique bachelor, didn’t own a TV, but he never missed a televised crusade. He loved all of us, Jesus, and the Billy Graham crusade ministry. “Thought we would all watch the crusade together tonight,” he would say as he opened our front door, asking if we were up. His early morning arrival had become expected if it was the day of the crusade. “Thought I would come a little bit early, because time has a way of sneaking up on you and I never want to miss one bit of the program,” he would say. I knew Mama’s hot homemade biscuits and perked coffee were another reason my Uncle Bob rose early and came for a visit before the sun.
Late in the evening, we would finish our chores and take a bath before the program aired. My older brother suggested to Mama that he would “just wait until the program was over to get a bath.” His suggestion was not received well by Mama. She reminded him that we always took a bath before we went to church, and tonight would not be any different. Brother told Mama it would be all right to wait, since Pastor Billy Graham could not smell him all the way through the television. Mama got the broom and whipped Brother all the way through the house. He bathed, and it was a long time before he suggested anything else to Mama.
Finally, we gathered in front of the family television set, which worked only if the mop handle was holding down the channel selector. There was no feet shuffling, no fingernail filing, no gum chewing.
We listening as Pastor Billy Graham commented on the weather, saying the clouds were gathering and there was a good chance for rain. My fifth-grade mind became distracted when a yellow jacket flew into the house and buzzed around my head, but I remember Pastor Billy Graham speaking about living a life that was pleasing to the Lord. Reluctantly, I said to myself, “Oops! I have messed up.” I was sure glad I didn’t have to start making a list of my mess-up times and turn it in for a school assignment. I didn’t dare voice my thoughts out loud for several reasons. One, I knew better than to interrupt you in the middle of your sermon. (Mama would have whipped me with the broom.) Two, Mama and Daddy and Jesus already knew I had many “oops” times. Three, I did not want you to hear me. I just knew this would be the miraculous moment when Jesus would zoom supernatural hearing into your ears. Then you just might announce on television, “I interrupt this message to say, ‘Sylvia, you said a mouthful when you said you messed up. Shame on you! I am telling you to quit complaining about shelling butter beans. You should not be complaining about anything—you have plenty of food to eat and someone to cook it for you.’ ”
The telecast ended. I wanted to jump into the TV and say to you, “Listen, my hands have not been idle for the past eleven years—just look at these rough and split nails I have from shelling butter beans. In the summertime, why don’t you come on TV at least once a week.” Immediately, my heart talked to my head and I knew I needed to really work on my “oops” times. So, I said to myself, “Jesus talks to Billy Graham more than he does to me; or maybe he listens to Jesus more than I do. So, I’ll take Pastor Billy Graham’s advice. No more complaining for me.” No sir, I thought, complaining about shelling butter beans was certainly not pleasing to the Lord. I knew my Daddy and Mama had to work hard in our garden to raise those butter beans.
I have many memories of watching your telecast in front of the old television, and how we believed in a pastor who believed in God.
Uncle Bob was right: time has a way of sneaking up on you. I’m not an eleven-year-old anymore, and I now buy shelled butter beans in a package. But sometimes I still complain. At these times I remember the nights you ministered to us through God’s Word. So, I say thank you. And I know my parents are looking down from heaven and
saying, “Yes, we thank you for helping us raise Sylvia—Lord knows we needed all the help we could get.”
GOOD AND FAITHFUL SERVANT
As an eight-year-old girl, I remember walking the sidewalk to the 1959 Indianapolis Billy Graham crusade, through the cold wind, with my parents and my six-year-old sister. That was the first time in my life I had encountered such a mass of people, and it was a bit overwhelming. As always in worship settings, we joined in the singing of the hymns, bowing for prayer, and listening to the special music and testimony. You see, my dad had recently surrendered his life to full-time ministry and planned to enter college for preparation. I had the privilege of having Christian parents, so I was accustomed to attending church services. But when Billy Graham started speaking that evening, it was if he was speaking directly to me, and the throngs of people disappeared from my attention. I listened to each word that Billy Graham spoke and heard the Word of God speaking to my heart. At the time of the invitation, I wanted to affirm my decision to accept Jesus as God’s only Son and show that I now understood the full meaning of John 3:16, but the crowds of people responding to the invitation were again intimidating, and I had no time to share all of this process with my parents. However, the seed was planted. At home, I saw my mother on her knees and overheard her prayer for me. I told my mother of my decision. My parents arranged for the pastor to visit and confirm my understanding of this important step. I made my decision public at that church and was baptized the following Easter Sunday in 1960.
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