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My Independence Day

Steven C. Rivers • Sep 26, 2021

My Independence Day

by Steven C. Rivers

My Independence Day did not come on July 4th or Juneteenth. My Independence Day came on August 27, 1977. It was on that day I asked Jesus Christ to come into my life; to be my Lord and Savior. I’m not sure what I expected to happen after I said the prayer. While I was sure I still could not walk on water, I was sure I could turn the water into cherry and grape Kool Aid. No loaves of bread or fish to serve, just two huge pots of Sloppy Joe Mix. No miracles, just 50 or so really happy children.

I had been invited to Memorial Baptist Church by a friend, Lenaire Kashey. Lenaire and I were High School classmates at Cedar Grove Academy, a Private Christian School. It was a chance for this small Baptist Church to reach out to the kids in the neighborhood. When GOD has a plan, you don’t always see it or understand it in the beginning. GOD’s planned road to salvation began the previous Sunday. I spent Sunday in Church with my Nana. The choirs would sing ten songs and Reverend Cook would preach for two hours. At school, we hosted a Christian Group from upper state New York called, “Word of Life Ministries. For an entire week, they bought a message of love, hope, family, friendship and salvation. The seeds of salvation had been planted.

The following Saturday morning, I found myself at Memorial Baptist Church preparing to spend the day playing games, listening to mini sermons, making new friends and oddly enough, taking a long look at the teenager in the mirror. The bad boy wannabe in me kept wondering how did I come to spend a Saturday inside of a Church?

After the last sloppy Joe was eaten and the last cherry or grape Kool Aid consumed, the children started to return home with their parents. A youth minister named Richard Wilson spoke to all of us teens who had helped during this day. Pastor Rich was from another Church in Germantown section of Philadelphia. He spoke about growing up in Germantown and how as a teen he always had a ball in his hands. He played basketball and football from sun up until sundown. He only attended Church when his Grandmother said so. He joked that no matter how early he woke up, his Grandmother was already at his house ironing a dress shirt for him to wear to Church. I saw myself in a teenage Pastor Rich. He said he thought he was going to heaven because he was a good kid, a nice guy, a great son and grandson and went to Church. He then read from Ephesians 2:8 and 9, “For by grace you have been saved, through faith and that not of yourselves, it is a gift of GOD, not of works, lest anyone should boast.” That verse he said gave him many things to consider.

Pastor Rich asked all of the teenagers to stand up and to take a look at each other. He pointed out we were from ethnic backgrounds, different colors, from different neighborhoods, different Churches, different schools. Yet we were all at this little Church in Germantown together. Why? GOD wanted us here, someone here wants to let JESUS into their life. A voice in my head reminded me a seed had been planted inside of me and here was a chance to water that seed; yet I sat in my seat while a girl named Maria joined Pastor Rich in the front of the room. I remained in my seat and told myself it was too late, maybe next time. As if reading my mind, Pastor Rich said, “We have time. It’s not too late to accept the invitation of Jesus.” He then read John 5: 24, “Verily, Verily I say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on Him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life.” I stood up and walked to the front of the church. I was not sure what to expect. No sounds of trumpets, no thunder and lightning, no angel sightings, just a sense that I was in the right place, at the right time, doing the right thing. I thought of my “Nana” and how I couldn’t wait to tell her. I thought of my mother and all of the times she said to me, “Steven, you will know when the time is right.”

My private thoughts were interrupted by Pastor Rich. Maria and I sat down and prayed and spoke with Pastor Rich. He said being a Christian is a process; it’s a journey. It will at times seem like an impossible journey when you’re so young, you will learn to use your Church Family and your new Christian Friends to help you. He said spending time in prayer and reading the Bible will help us with our Christian journey. It’s a lifelong growth process.

Pastor Rich was right of course. I am still growing, learning and processing my walk with GOD. I have been very fortunate. I married a Christian woman who makes praying for her family a priority. Through my wife, I am a member of a wonderful Church and a Church Family that I have come to love. I have been blessed. The Christian life is a journey. When we need help, Jesus is only a prayer away.

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