Devil at My Heels - Louis Zamperini [122]
It was all in His hands now—as it had always been.
14
FORGIVENESS
After my first talk in Modesto, offers to share my story poured in. I knew my journey from delinquent to Olympian, from POW to drinking, from nightmares to conversion—my testimony—was an attention getter—“And then what happened?”—so I accepted the invitations as evidence of God’s plan and an opportunity to test my new faith by following it.
I drove to most engagements, sometimes took the train or flew. Now and then Cynthia and Cissy came with me. When invited to speak, all expenses were paid and an honorarium provided. God knew my needs and took care accordingly. I also faithfully gave 10 percent back to the church.
ONE NIGHT, AFTER speaking in a little church in Burbank, I saw my old friend Harry Read standing in the back, behind the last pew.
“I thought I’d drop by and see what all the fuss is about,” he said.
His visit was a great surprise, and not just because my old college buddy was in a church, of all places. Harry had entered a boat race eight months earlier and had moved to Hawaii. I didn’t know he was in town.
“I’ll drive you home,” he said.
On the ride to Hollywood he recalled the months he’d spent in the islands. “I tried to charter my boat but couldn’t do it, so I had lots of time on my hands. I filled it with the easy life: parties, beautiful gals, drinking—you know the routine.”
I did. But Harry sounded more puzzled than happy.
“You know, Louie, despite the good times and beautiful scenery, I got bored. I wasn’t…happy. Something’s wrong, but I just can’t figure it out.”
I could have spoken then, but I let him ask a few questions about my new life instead and hoped he’d get the message on his own. Besides, I couldn’t tell from his expression whether what I’d said in church had impressed him or revolted him, or if he’d even heard me.
A week later Harry attended another meeting—not mine—and when the preacher extended an invitation to accept Christ, Harry stepped forward. Later he told me, “I just wasn’t sure, Louie. Knowing you the way I do, I just couldn’t believe it. But I’ve watched you and that convinced me.”
Harry threw himself into his new life. He moved to Oceanside, where he had an equipment-rental business, and sometimes we’d get together. He married a beautiful model and asked me to teach them running so they could stay in shape. Years later Harry got kidney cancer. When he had only a week or two to live, I drove to see him and we prayed together.
THE GREAT COMMANDMENT is that we preach the gospel to every creature, but neither God nor the Bible says anything about forcing it down people’s throats. If you go to the door and get rejected, you’re supposed to kick the dust off your shoes and move on, not try to kick down the door. Back when the Jesus freaks roamed Hollywood Boulevard accosting passersby, I thought their pressure tactics gave Christianity a bad name. I believe what the Bible says: many are called, few are chosen. That’s one of today’s big problems: we’ve got too many die-hard fundamentalists the world over. You can see the hate in their eyes when someone doesn’t agree with everything they say. A dangerous few go to terrible lengths, even violence, to spread their beliefs. I’ve met many people who rejected Christ, yet it’s always some guy trying to spread the Word who gets mad and madder because he believes he has to score a conversion, like it’s a game he has to win.
In the beginning I struggled with my own eagerness to spread the Word and sometimes tried too hard. But after a few frustrating and occasionally embarrassing encounters, I finally accepted the truth: the Bible says you can’t convert anybody. All you can do is plant the seed and water it, and God will grant the increase according to His will.
IN MID-1950 I