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Pastor Scott's Testimony

 

The following material is the testimony of the events that transformed the life of two young men forever. We do not share this in order to gain sympathy or to draw attention to ourselves but to testify of the mighty saving power of Jesus Christ.

I was born on June 17, 1977 and my brother, Michael, was born two years later on May 1, 1979. We grew up in a middle-class home in the mountains of southwestern Virginia. The community was a tight knit community where people knew each other very well. Norton was a quiet town and there were very seldom any problems of a severe nature. Our home was very happy for the entirety of our adolescent years. Our father was a coal miner in the mountains of Virginia. As with many mining families, our father would be “laid off” from work when the coal became scarce in a certain area and we would feel the impact of that financially. However, as children we never were concerned, because the love we were shown at home well accounted for the lack in finances. Our family was always close. Growing up, my brother was always my best friend. We went through all the youth sports together and played together in our spare time. We never spent a lot of time at other people’s houses, because we had all the love and fun we could want right at home. My brother and I were raised in church. There never was an option of whether or not we wanted to go; our mother always made sure we were in attendance every Wednesday and twice on Sunday. In 1986, our home was shaken with the injury of our father in a coal mining accident. The injury was very serious and our father eventually underwent several surgeries for the removal of discs and vertebrae. Our family struggled financially, but with the hard work of our mother and the support of close friends and relatives we fought through the hard times. My mother had worked as an aid at a local elementary school. However, after my father’s injury, she was given a job at a local telephone company. My father was deemed to be disabled for life. Doctors told him that there would be many physical, mental and emotional hurdles to cross in the future. We knew that with the help of God we could make it through this battle and keep our happy home. Over the next few years God continued to bless our family. By the mid 90’s, our mother had found favor and began to move up within the company. Our father was having problems dealing with our mother bringing home our families finances. We began to see changes in our father’s behavior and in his overall attitude; however we still maintained our loving home. The first incident occurred in February of 1994. My brother and I were awakened by screams of terror echoing through our home. I jumped out of bed and ran into the hallway just to meet my brother doing the same. We continued together into our parents’ bedroom to find our father yelling at our mother and her screaming in terror. We asked what was happening and why he was acting this way. Our father assured us that they were only having an argument and that we should go back to bed and not mention it again. We went back to bed that night, and the first seed was planted in what would develop into a family disaster. Over the next few weeks, our father’s behavior became more violent and unpredictable. On Christmas day we were shocked once again. After we had opened presents and talked with each other, our father told us that he would be leaving the home for a while because he needed to get away. We were devastated by the thought of our father leaving. We cried and talked to him, told him that we would change whatever it was that we were doing that made him want to leave. After several long discussions, he decided that he would not leave. Once again his behavior continued to get worse over the course of the passing weeks. By late spring, our father had been abusing our family verbally and would go into uncontrollable rages. It was at this time that the physical abuse became evident. He had been abusing our mother for some time but would do it in ways that no one could see. In late spring of 1995, he began to abuse her in front of my brother and me. The seed that had been planted in the winter of 1994 had grown into full-blown abuse. It had occurred so subtlty that we had just learned to live with it. That’s how Satan will operate in your life; he will sneak in little by little until he finally takes control. Between April and July our home became a war zone. Our father began pushing and yelling at my brother and me. I began to make death threats with loaded weapons. On many occasions my brother and I have looked down the barrel of a loaded weapon while our father threatened to kill all of us and “end it all”. Throughout June and July, we did what we could to stop the violence. My brother called the police on three different occasions and each time an officer talked my mother into allowing my father to stay in the home. Every time he would tell my mother, “he loves you all so much, he’s just upset about the thought of ever losing you all”. In each case it was passed off as a mountain man throwing himself a mountain fit! Late July, my mother had taken all of the abuse she could possibly take. We obtained a restraining order from the local court that removed my father from our home. We hoped the order would restore peace in our family. That would prove wrong. Our father began to stalk us. We would leave to go to work or athletic events, and he would follow us everywhere. We lived in a secluded area of the mountains and he would call from a cellular phone and tell us that he was watching us. Our house had been taken over by fear. My mother helped lead worship in the church we grew up in, and she never let her relationship with God suffer during the times of violence. Looking back on it now, I don’t know how she pulled herself together enough after the beatings and abuse to tell people that “the blood will never lose its power” or “the God of the mountain is still God in the valley.” Through it all she remained faithful to God. My brother and I had let our relationship with God grow cold. All of the other distractions in our lives pulled us away from prayer and thanks toward God. We continued on, living life in constant fear until August 15th, 1995. That is a day that can never be erased from our memories. Our father had followed our mother for several mornings and knew her daily routine. Almost everyday she would go on break around 10:30 and go to the post office to get her mail. She would then take care of any business she had at the bank across the street and return to work just up the road. Our father had followed her to the post office that day and waited until she exited from checking her mail. He got out of his car and began to yell at her. This drew a lot of attention and many people were watching to see what was going on. My mother tried to walk away, and that’s when my father raised a .38 caliber revolver and shot her in the head. She fell immediately to the ground and grasped her head. Physicians said that the bullet only grazed the inside of her skull, and she would have probably been able to carry on a somewhat normal life if she had lived. People were screaming for my father to put the gun down. My mother rolled over and began to beg for her life. Witnesses said that she begged him not to kill her and just to “let me raise my boys”. That’s when my father fired the second shot. A shot that pierced her lungs, causing instant death. Our lives were forever changed that day. We lost the two dearest people we had ever known. Our mother went to heaven that day and our father was destined for a life in prison. Over the next year and a half our lives were turned into a living hell. The court case took nearly two years to be resolved. My brother turned to a life of drugs and alcohol and searched the party scene for the answer to his hurt. I turned to a life of bitterness. I would have to be in court several times per week to work on different aspects of the case. I began to hate everyone. Bitterness had taken over my life. I had obtained guardianship of my brother and tried the best I knew how to finish raising him right. The combination of his drug abuse and my hate led to fight after fight. We had always been best friends but now we hated each other. We both worked two jobs and went to school full time. We were trying to keep the house we had grown up in, but we could never meet all of the bills. My brother and I had dreamed of playing college football all of our lives. I was scheduled to play for an area college in the fall, but the death of my mother forced me to go to a local community college and take care of my brother. College was a huge step for me. No one in my family had ever been to college, and they really didn’t see the need of an education. My brother and I are the first generation in our family not to work in a coal mine in Virginia. My brother continued with his dream of becoming a college football player. His junior year of high school he began to use steroids as a means of becoming bigger, faster and stronger. By his senior year he managed to gain the attention of college scouts and the dream of a college scholarship was becoming a reality. One problem clouded that dream. If he were tested for drugs they would know he was using steroids to have an illegal advantage. He began trying to stop the steroids and became very sick. I remember how he would lay around the house and vomit, and I wouldn’t know what was wrong or what I should do. He couldn’t tell his coaches because they would kick him off the team, and he couldn’t go to the doctors because we couldn’t afford it. After all he had been through, he remembered that God saves, heals and delivers. One spring evening in 1997, he walked over to the small church where we had been raised. When he walked through the back doors, he fell on his knees, crawled to the altar and lifted his head toward heaven. He told God that if he would heal his body and save his soul that he would serve him until the day he dies. That very day all symptoms of the drugs, alcohol and steroids were totally erased. He was delivered without any counseling or stair step methods to come off them. He totally dedicated his life to God and turned away from all of his past. I was still holding on to the bitterness and hate that had taken control of my life. I didn’t talk to any of my family anymore, I didn’t have any friends and I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I was going to court almost every week and the frustration was building. The root of bitterness had taken hold in my life. That’s why the Bible warns of the root of bitterness. I hid all of the fruit of bitterness from people. I would behave when I needed to. I didn’t act violently, but there was secret hate in my life that was driving me over the edge. It became so bad that I was involved in a fight during one of the court cases, which led to my arrest. My brother would beg me to go to church with him and I would always refuse. My brother had remained in church, but I had almost quit totally. He tried everything to get me to come and I would deny sharply. He had been to a youth conference in Independence, KY at Community Pentecostal Church, where Thomas Bates is pastor and had felt the call to preach. He would stay awake until the early hours of the morning and play the video of that youth conference. I would lie in my bed and cry as I heard Pastor Tom Bates sing, “I’ve never met a man like Jesus”. My Grandmother had known that man, my mother had known that man, but I had only heard of him. I knew that I had looked in everything else and could not find an answer; it had to be in Jesus. My mother had always trusted Jesus Christ, even when times were so dark, and I remembered the example she had set for us. My brother asked me one week in April 1997 to go to church with him. Rev. Ronnie Harrison, from Norman OK, was holding revival services at the church we grew up in. I promised him I would go that Tuesday. I couldn’t wait to get there that night. As the people sang praise to God during worship, I could feel the spirit of God dealing with me. I don’t remember what he preached on that night, but I do remember longing for the opportunity to give my heart to God. He made a call for those who wanted to be filled with the Holy Ghost and I ran to the altar. That night, April 17, 1997, God saved me, delivered me from all the hurt and bitterness and filled me with the Holy Ghost. The saving power of Jesus totally changed our lives forever. That summer my brother and I traveled with Dr. Tom Renfro and Pastor Robert Fultz to several conferences and church events. On the way to World Harvest Church, we stopped to attend a service in Barbourville, KY being held by Thomas Bates. Not knowing anything of our past, Pastor Tom prophesied that our lives would be changed, we would be used in the kingdom of God and doors would be opened. We then traveled to Hendersonville, TN and attended a service with Rev. Mark Chirrona. He called my brother and I out and prophesied almost the exact word over our lives. That July we traveled to World Harvest Church in Columbus, OH with our youth group. Pastor Parsley called our group up to the altar and prayed for all of us. He then informed my brother that he had one more scholarship to give and gave him a scholarship to World Harvest Bible College. He was looking forward to going to college but was three thousand dollars short for living expense and dorms. Michael received a letter in the mail notifying him that, because of a rejection, he had been awarded a three thousand dollar scholarship that he had applied for a year earlier. He had all of the finances taken care of but lacked transportation. The Sunday before he left for Bible College a lady in our church walked up to him and gave him a car. God opened every door and, in February 2001, he became youth pastor at Community Pentecostal Church. I was the first person in our family to graduate from college. I have a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration, and I’m half way to my Masters Degree in Business. In late 1998, we saw Pastor Tom Bates at a Youth Conference at his church.

Of the hundreds in attendance, he talked to me after service and said that God had put me on his heart and wanted to know if I wanted to come spend some time with him. He did not know anything about me or my brother and the things we had been through. We lived four and a half hours away from Independence, and I didn’t really know if I wanted to leave home. I prayed and sought God’s will concerning my life. I felt it would be a great experience for me. I went to spend time with Pastor Tom that summer, and God immediately started to transform my life. I traveled and studied under Pastor Tom for three years. I spent much of that time traveling across the eastern United States, Mexico, and Alaska preaching and telling people that Jesus is the answer for every problem they may face. In October of 2001, I became the youth pastor at Freedom of Worship Church in Norton, VA, the church we grew up in. Since that time God has done an amazing work. We started out with 7 young members of our youth group. In the years since we have seen hundreds come to know Christ in our services and outreach rallies.

God has continued to bless the church and the youth ministry. It is amazing how God could use such horrible situations to bring hope to people everywhere. We were just two normal young men, but God has used us to change the lives of men and women all around the world.