June 1985 – The Lord’s conviction was as powerful as my love for rock and roll—a real dilemma. I do not remember if I went “down to the altar” to repent of this “sin” or not. (The altar in an Independent Baptist Church is the steps that lead up to the platform where the preacher preaches.)
Many Baptist preachers end their sermons by giving an altar call. It’s “closing the deal,” as you make your way up front and pour out your heart to the Lord while the congregation waits and watches. Being the “good Baptist” that I was, I probably hit the altar. It was vital for me to do business with God.
I suspect there were others in the altar too. Don’s message was one of those that guaranteed a crowd upfront. I mean, who wanted to be the one who shut down a revival?
Back Home: Decision Time
I’ll never forget what I did after I arrived home. It was a Sunday afternoon, in June, in North Carolina, and it was hot. The conviction was so controlling that I couldn’t wait any longer to get rid of those wicked rock albums. I collected them and went to the burn barrel (a 55-gallon drum with the top cut out of it) in the backyard. We lived in the country. The standard way to get rid of your trash was to burn it.
I threw my stack of albums into the barrel, which was a joyless process. (Every act of obedience is not a happy one, at least not for me.) Because it was a Sunday, I could not burn them. There was an unwritten sin about mowing the lawn or burning trash on Sundays. As a new Baptist, I was not up to speed on all the transgressions that aren’t in the Bible, but I did learn them eventually.
Nevertheless, I was as obedient as I could be, and it was a Sunday. I went back to the church meeting that night, knowing that if revival did not come, it would not be my fault. There was no way that I would “stay the hand of God” within nine months of becoming a convert. It never dawned on me how arrogant I was in thinking that I could control the Lord, or bring revival. It was a great church meeting that night.
The Morning After
The next day I was “mostly” onboard with God about those albums, though there was a gnawing feeling of regret while at work. Upon arriving home, I entered the front door and kept walking right out the back door. I just couldn’t let them go. I made my way to the burn barrel, silently glad that I obeyed God by not burning them on Sunday.
Yesterday’s church meetings were over, and so was my conviction. What in the world was I thinking? It is so funny—now—when I peered into that trash barrel. I saw all those albums in a contorted, twisted, and melted mess. They had been sitting in the blazing sun all day.
I felt a twinge of conviction and embarrassment in my soul for attempting to retrieve them. The Lord was making sure that I would not get them back, so He made arrangements to remove this “sin” out of my life permanently.
It is a humorous story from a young man trying to make his way in his new faith. The good news is that we had a revival that week because of God (and me). The bad news is that I burned all those classics.
The Rest of the Story – The Lord gave me iTunes twenty years later.