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It was D-Day.
the
sixth of June, 1944. The
long awaited Allied invasion of occupied Europe had begun. My parachute
opened about 2:00 a.m., and soon the angry bullets were whizzing by my
ears. As I dropped toward the hostile battle ground in Normandy, I was
coming close to hell.
When I was a boy in Chicago, I had often attended Sunday School. I did
much thinking about God, sin, death and salvation. But when I became a
teenager, I tried to put such thoughts far away.
In the year 1942 I entered the U.S. Army and volunteered for duty with
the parachute troops. At this time I professed to have no fear of man,
death or God. But, after a trip overseas, my proud arrogant attitude
began to change. In the British Isles I was witnessed to by Christian
soldiers and chaplains. I began to realize my guilt before a Holy God.
As we were poised for the invasion, my heart began to fear . Then
later, watching others die in Normandy I knew I wasn't prepared to die;
I knew I needed peace with God.
On the fourth of July, 1944, some German soldiers caught me in their gun
sights. As the bullets came in my direction, I was a fit subject for the
righteous judgment of God, but also an object of His love and mercy.
When the bullets hit me, bne [sic] missed my heart by just twelve
inches. I missed hell by 12 inches! God in His mercy spared me.
With the end of the war, a measure of peace came to a troubled world. By
this time I had become religious and even called myself a Christian.
Others noted the moral change in my life, but, in spite of the outward
change, there was none within. The same anxiety about my sins existed;
no peace had come to my troubled soul.
After my return to the United States, I was stationed at Fort Benning,
Georgia. For two years I had been trying to find peace for my guilty
conscience, but now I began to realize that my religious efforts were in
vain and had gained no favor with God. This brought fear and despair to
my heart. What could I do? Must my ultimate destiny be in hell after
all?
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On the fourth of June,
1946, the Spirit of God brought me to an end of myself and I was
reached by God's marvelous grace. I met a small group of soldiers
who had what my heart longed for; peace with God and the assurance
of Heaven to come. That night the light dawned upon me. I realized
that I was not only a guilty sinner, but a helpless one and could
never be saved until I ceased my vain efforts and believed on the
Lord Jesus Christ. I saw that the Son of God had provided my
salvation by dying for me -
"Having made peace
through the Mood of His cross."
(Col. 1:20) Later I
was to understand how the death
of
Christ
had met all the demands of God's justice and that
He
was thus raised from
the dead. But that night all I had to do was rest in the finished
work of Christ at Calvary. As I walked down a street at Fort
Benning, I
looked
up
into a
starlit
sky and
told God, "I believe
on the Son."
What peace filled my
soul! The burden of sin and guilt was lifted, and I leaped with joy.
I must have been the happiest young man in all the world. How
delightfully surprised I was
to
learn that salvation
was not by any human effort
or
religious observances,
but freely by the grace
of
God upon believing on
His Son. In spite
of all
my unworthiness, God
saved me from hell and made me fit for Heaven. Amazing grace!
-Fred Gladstone
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"For by grace are ye
saved through faith; and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of
God: Not of works, lest any man should boast."
(Eph. 2:8.9)
Twas grace that taught
my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed."
—John Newton
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