Blog One Weekend

By Dr. Neil Gilliland

My wife, Sheila, and I had been married less than a year when we found ourselves as parents of eight children. That’s right…eight. We had joined the staff at the Free Will Baptist Home for Children in East Tennessee as house parents.

As newlyweds with eight kids I can confirm that life was less than boring. Sheila was in nursing school and we had two pre-school children, Cameron and Lana, so I had the privilege of being Mr. Mom for a year. There were always adventures, like the morning the two little ones came running into the house all excited, “Daddy, there’s a snake outside come and see.” I was in the middle of one of my daily chores so I said “I will be there in a minute”…until they uttered the next sentence. “It has a shaker on its tail.” They stayed in the house and I took care of the snake with the shaker on his tail.

Those days in the mountains of East Tennessee furnish a library of stories. We attended the little stone Free Will Baptist church nestled at the base of the mountain in the heart of our community. One weekend our pastor, Rob Morgan, invited a college friend of his to hold special services. I looked forward to the weekend, but little did I know that it would change the course of my spiritual life.

I had given my life to Christ many years before that weekend. I had been discipled in a wonderful church as a child and teen. I went to a state university and was extremely active in a local FWB church. I completed two years of intense Bible study and missions training at FWBBC. But nothing in my life has ever spoken so deeply as the simple messages Steve Estes delivered that weekend. They ignited a spiritual journey into a far deeper relationship than I had ever known. His messages wrapped themselves around Paul’s words.

That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his suffering, being made conformable to his death (Phil. 3:10).

I don’t recall going forward and now 30 years have passed since that weekend. I don’t remember Steve’s voice and I can’t even remember what he looked like. But the intimate voice of the Holy One of Israel has whispered to me in tones that have brought peace when my heart ached hollow. I have sensed His presence so very often. I have looked into His face time after time as I have traveled the lifelong journey of knowing Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His suffering, being made conformable to His death.

One weekend…