God, Where Are You? ~ My Salvation Story

Normally, I write Biblically technical messages concerning God’s Word.

Some are essays that I’ve written in the past, some are written in the present, yet all have taken many hours to compose, or recompose to be fit within this blog.

These are not off the top of my head; per se they involve research work which is very meticulous and time-consuming, forcing me to spend untold hours in God’s Word – for which in return I am greatly fed.

Today, I want to do something a little different – I’m going to turn to the dark side, where emotions can display the pain life can bring.

The following is a letter I found in my files, it is sad and uncomfortable, yet something that others may relate too.

God where are you.  Where were you when my immature mother left me behind at age 3, and my alcoholic drug abusing father left at age 10.  Where were you when I was at school, the poor white trash little boy with wholly jeans, and could not afford a school lunch.

Where were you when no one ever noticed me, except to ridicule and pick on.  Where were you when the silence was deafening in a world that was such a hostile place.

Where were you when the lies of liberals who said that man was basically good, prove themselves to be ridiculous claims of narcissism and deception.

Where were you when the system that said that all that man needed was rules and regulations, and systems to bring out the best of humanity; when all I saw was the worst without civility.

Where were you when everyone left me alone, despised rejected, crying out for help; finding acceptance only in the dregs of society, where the only way of survival was to medicate myself into oblivion. 

To get drunk or wasted, smoking pot 24 7 only to be numb enough to deal with the pain of being hated and despised without cause. 

Where were you when I just wanted someone to say ‘I love you’.”                                                                                              

Yes, I wrote these words (Signed: Brent Bolin ~ 12/01/1974), yet it was only a few weeks later that God answered my question.

I accepted Jesus Christ when I was 8 years old, but when I was 12 I started doing my own thing, backsliding into drugs, and alcohol, and a partying lifestyle in Southern California.  After graduating High School I took a job out of style.

After a few months I moved back to Southern California with no money in my pockets, I took a job where I could live on-site in the back of my truck, with no money for 2 weeks until my first paycheck.

No food to eat, not even enough gas to drive 30 miles to get help from a family who had rejected me because of my drug abuse, yet would have fed me.

Alone, enough cigarettes and dope to keep me going, yet no food; sleeping in a sleeping bag in the back of an open-bed pickup, with a 13″ B&W TV in the winter in Southern California, God answered my question.

The answer did not come from the beautiful cathedrals, with stained-glass, padded pews, and lush surroundings.

The answer did not come from a televangelist, making claims of prosperity.

The answer did not come from a missionary providing food and the Bible.

No, the answer did not come from a good-hearted Christian witnessing to the lost.

The answer did not even come through spoken words.

The answer came in the form of a sacrificial gift by a mean old drunk I worked with.

My fellow employees could not help but know my plight, yet after 14 days without food, the meanest oldest drunk employee, who I had never spoke too, nor anyone else for that matter, without saying a word came up to me and gave me half of his sandwich and a miniature Three Musketeers bar, and simply said, “here.”

This man who was despised and rejected by everyone, he didn’t seem to care what anyone thought of him; yet, he was moved with compassion for someone that was less fortunate than himself.

You see God did not use beautiful words from lovely people, that wouldn’t have done the trick in my case.

You know I found out that everything is corruptible, even generous acts of giving can be done so that the giver feels good about themselves.

This is why Jesus said when we give our gifts of love to do it so that no one knows, using the illustration of not letting the left hand know what the right hand is doing.

No, Gods words to me were much more precious than the potentially self-serving gestures of a good-hearted Christian, even when done in sincerity.

God used an instrument that I knew that He alone had motivated to reflect His love; an old drunk that everybody hated, and hated everyone else.

You see most people would never have understood this type of language, but I did – God was speaking to me.

For one that knows the depravity of humanity, the rejection of all; the potential self-serving of any apparent righteous deed, for one that has been abused in every manner, by some people who appeared to be good, while others were obviously not; the language that God used was clear and apparent.

It was this act of kindness by an unkind man who was God’s witness of God’s love for me – to me.

You see I was raised in the church and understood the gospel – that Jesus died for me, for my sin.

What I hadn’t understood is that God was God because He was all-powerful and controlled everything that occurred on this Earth, and that because of this, I could place my trust in Him – my faith in Him because He had the power to do what He said He would do.

He could even use an old drunk to carry His message to a wayward son.

That night I saw the mercy and grace of God through the hands of an unsaved wretch.

I understood the difference between mercy and grace; where mercy is not getting the negative reward I deserved, and grace was getting the unmerited favor I didn’t deserve as well.

The half of a sandwich to me was God’s mercy, yet the tears flowed when that old man handed me that miniature Three Musketeers bar, which was to me God’s grace – it was the best thing I have ever tasted in my life – today I still cry when remembering this event in my life – it was that powerful – to me.

Some ask me why I am so repetitious concerning the subject of faith.

It was because that night I understood all that I would ever need to understand about God and His ability to take care of me, and His trustworthiness because of His ability – I could trust not only His Word, but His ability.

You see, the fact that God would orchestrate that I go through the pain that I had went through for the first 18 years of my life so that I would understand the pain of loss; also mandated I would understand the joy of receiving.

And the greatest receiving there was would be that of eternal life.

That first 18 years was nothing in comparison to God’s gift of eternity with Him.

And it was in receiving those 2 small gifts that my life made sense.

I praise God that I was rejected and despised, ridiculed and abandoned; because I understand the cost of sin; of my sin, and of every sin.

A few days later I came to the Lord as an adult son, 39 years ago today.

It cost God the life of His own Son to pay for (MY) sin.

Yet, the giving of his Son did not mean that God was not in control, just the opposite; He is in total control, especially when it does not appear so – this is the reason why we can trust Him, not merely because He is righteous, which mandates the sacrifice of His own Son to pay for our sin; but because He is all-powerful and able to do His good will – to fulfill what He has said in His Word, which we can trust with all of our being.

I pray to someday see that mean little old man in heaven, I pray that someone showed him the kindness that he showed me using language that he would understand; and that he would receive the free gift of salvation that none of us deserve, any more than I deserved that half a sandwich and a miniature Three Musketeers bar.

I was the Prodigal son who would still have many other lessons to learn, and even leave the Church to live in sin, but even I still called out to my Lord.  This is why I relate so well to the Prodigal son, to my shame, but to God’s glory displaying His mercy, “for His mercy endureth for ever.” (Psa. 136:1)     

“For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.”  (Luke 15:24)

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:35-39)    

“O LORD, thou hast searched me, and known me. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it. Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee. For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them. How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand: when I awake, I am still with thee. Surely thou wilt slay the wicked, O God: depart from me therefore, ye bloody men. For they speak against thee wickedly, and thine enemies take thy name in vain. Do not I hate them, O LORD, that hate thee? and am not I grieved with those that rise up against thee? I hate them with perfect hatred: I count them mine enemies. Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts: And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”  (Psalms 139:1-24)


“Sometimes a man can meet his destiny on the road he took to avoid it”

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