James Jones was my friend when I was just a mere lad. When we both were mere lads growing up in western Little Rock out beyond the city limit in the 1950's. Neither of our families was well to do and James' was really what you would call poor. Knocking around together fishing, shooting and being uncurried boys.
His father hauled off trash and did odd jobs for what little money he made and to make things worse he drank, and not just a little. I spent the night with James once and we went with his father the next day to haul off some trash. In those days the city dump was adjacent to the Arkansas River on the north edge of town.
On the way there Mr. Jones stopped at the liquor store and bought a quart of wine then drove on to the dump. James and I jumped out upon arrival and began unloading the junk piled in the truck bed. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than ten minutes, maybe less. As we climbed back in Mr. Jones was slinging the empty wine bottle away and wiping his mouth on the dirty sleeve of the ancient suit jacket he was wearing. Being only about fourteen I was amazed that anyone could guzzle that much in just a few minutes. All in all his family painted a pretty dismal picture.
James' older brother was in the navy and was James' hero. He planned to follow him into the navy as soon as he could. We were in school together then attending Southwest Jr High. One day James announced that he was going to join the navy and drop out of school. We were in the eighth grade and only fifteen but he talked his parents into signing for him and made out to be eighteen years old. He was big and looked older so was able to pull it off. This must have been around 1957 or 58 I guess.
James disappeared from my life until about a year or so later when he showed up on leave from the navy. He came to eat with us on a holiday and had matured physically. He had also learned to swear to an extreme degree. Now we all swore in our neck of the woods but his navy gig had taken it to a degree that shocked me. Even as a boy I could cuss with the best of them except not at home around mama. But I was a rank amateur compared to James after graduating him from advanced navy swearing 101.
After that visit I may have seen him once more but then he faded into whatever his life was far away from me and our old west twelfth street haunts.
Flash forward 18 years
I was saved in 1977 and Jesus had opened my wife's womb and began to send us our children. We were settled in the country with a good church in Benton and all was well. Coming in from work one afternoon my wife told me that an old friend had called and was going to call back that night. We'd been to church the night before and upon coming back home I entered into prayer. I was surprised when the Holy Spirit said "you're going to hear from an old friend".
So it was no real surprise when my wife gave her news of the caller the very next day.
"Who was it" I asked and she said it was to be a surprise and she was not to tell, but when I asked if it was James Jones she gave in and affirmed my guess.
James called awhile later and we updated each other on our lives with me sharing how Jesus had come and saved me and some of the great things he'd done in our lives.
James related that he, his wife and children had been living in some run down rental place in an east coast Port town. He was still in the navy after all those years. One morning his little daughter asked "daddy are you going to get drunk again today". Sadly James had taken the same wrong road as his father.
Looking around at the run down place they lived in with it's shoddy furniture and couch with bricks where legs should be he answered his daughter's question.
"No I'm not honey." James went into the kitchen where his wife was working and got the new gallon of whiskey that was on the counter. Breaking the seal he began pouring it down the drain. His shocked wife remarked "James, you're going to want a drink after while"!
"No I'm not, as a matter of fact I'm never going to drink again" was the astounding answer he gave.
James' mother and brother had been Christians for years and had always prayed for Mr. Jones and James to be saved. Their prayers had finally been answered and James was not only
saved but delivered in a moment's time from alcohol addiction.
I was overjoyed to hear what God had done for my friend from so long ago. We had both started out in very hard circumstances but Jesus came and set us both free! Hallelujah!
I found myself afraid to ask after his father with the memory of his drinking that quart of wine but finally asked if he was still alive and James said he'd been gone several years.
"was he still drinking then"? I mustered up the courage to ask.
"No he'd quit" was the amazing answer I got.
James then went on "Dad always read the Bible even when he was drinking. Mama had prayed and prayed for him and one night as he read the Bible the Lord opened his eyes and let him see and understand what he read. After that he quit drinking and began to follow after the Lord. He died a Christian and was not a drinker anymore".
If ever there was a man I thought could not be saved or delivered it was James' father. So much for my faith there. But God had taken what the world would call a hopeless wino, save him, deliver him and set his feet on solid ground. Only God can truly cause a man to be recreated into a brand spanking new creation. It's quite a distance from the bottle to the altar but Jesus shortened the distance.
That call from James that night was a miracle. Two unsaved heathens that Jesus retrieved from life's junkyard and changed into citizens of heaven. In the twenty or so years since we'd seen each other God had come and given us more in common than we'd ever had before.
Thank you Lord seems not nearly enough but I say it. Praise God Almighty to whom alone belongs salvation, redemption and restoration.
His father hauled off trash and did odd jobs for what little money he made and to make things worse he drank, and not just a little. I spent the night with James once and we went with his father the next day to haul off some trash. In those days the city dump was adjacent to the Arkansas River on the north edge of town.
On the way there Mr. Jones stopped at the liquor store and bought a quart of wine then drove on to the dump. James and I jumped out upon arrival and began unloading the junk piled in the truck bed. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than ten minutes, maybe less. As we climbed back in Mr. Jones was slinging the empty wine bottle away and wiping his mouth on the dirty sleeve of the ancient suit jacket he was wearing. Being only about fourteen I was amazed that anyone could guzzle that much in just a few minutes. All in all his family painted a pretty dismal picture.
James' older brother was in the navy and was James' hero. He planned to follow him into the navy as soon as he could. We were in school together then attending Southwest Jr High. One day James announced that he was going to join the navy and drop out of school. We were in the eighth grade and only fifteen but he talked his parents into signing for him and made out to be eighteen years old. He was big and looked older so was able to pull it off. This must have been around 1957 or 58 I guess.
James disappeared from my life until about a year or so later when he showed up on leave from the navy. He came to eat with us on a holiday and had matured physically. He had also learned to swear to an extreme degree. Now we all swore in our neck of the woods but his navy gig had taken it to a degree that shocked me. Even as a boy I could cuss with the best of them except not at home around mama. But I was a rank amateur compared to James after graduating him from advanced navy swearing 101.
After that visit I may have seen him once more but then he faded into whatever his life was far away from me and our old west twelfth street haunts.
Flash forward 18 years
I was saved in 1977 and Jesus had opened my wife's womb and began to send us our children. We were settled in the country with a good church in Benton and all was well. Coming in from work one afternoon my wife told me that an old friend had called and was going to call back that night. We'd been to church the night before and upon coming back home I entered into prayer. I was surprised when the Holy Spirit said "you're going to hear from an old friend".
So it was no real surprise when my wife gave her news of the caller the very next day.
"Who was it" I asked and she said it was to be a surprise and she was not to tell, but when I asked if it was James Jones she gave in and affirmed my guess.
James called awhile later and we updated each other on our lives with me sharing how Jesus had come and saved me and some of the great things he'd done in our lives.
James related that he, his wife and children had been living in some run down rental place in an east coast Port town. He was still in the navy after all those years. One morning his little daughter asked "daddy are you going to get drunk again today". Sadly James had taken the same wrong road as his father.
Looking around at the run down place they lived in with it's shoddy furniture and couch with bricks where legs should be he answered his daughter's question.
"No I'm not honey." James went into the kitchen where his wife was working and got the new gallon of whiskey that was on the counter. Breaking the seal he began pouring it down the drain. His shocked wife remarked "James, you're going to want a drink after while"!
"No I'm not, as a matter of fact I'm never going to drink again" was the astounding answer he gave.
James' mother and brother had been Christians for years and had always prayed for Mr. Jones and James to be saved. Their prayers had finally been answered and James was not only
saved but delivered in a moment's time from alcohol addiction.
I was overjoyed to hear what God had done for my friend from so long ago. We had both started out in very hard circumstances but Jesus came and set us both free! Hallelujah!
I found myself afraid to ask after his father with the memory of his drinking that quart of wine but finally asked if he was still alive and James said he'd been gone several years.
"was he still drinking then"? I mustered up the courage to ask.
"No he'd quit" was the amazing answer I got.
James then went on "Dad always read the Bible even when he was drinking. Mama had prayed and prayed for him and one night as he read the Bible the Lord opened his eyes and let him see and understand what he read. After that he quit drinking and began to follow after the Lord. He died a Christian and was not a drinker anymore".
If ever there was a man I thought could not be saved or delivered it was James' father. So much for my faith there. But God had taken what the world would call a hopeless wino, save him, deliver him and set his feet on solid ground. Only God can truly cause a man to be recreated into a brand spanking new creation. It's quite a distance from the bottle to the altar but Jesus shortened the distance.
That call from James that night was a miracle. Two unsaved heathens that Jesus retrieved from life's junkyard and changed into citizens of heaven. In the twenty or so years since we'd seen each other God had come and given us more in common than we'd ever had before.
Thank you Lord seems not nearly enough but I say it. Praise God Almighty to whom alone belongs salvation, redemption and restoration.
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