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Once an infidel and libertine

Read this story and learn of the man
 that went through so much and yet still came forth
strong and well-able to  preach the Gospel of the Lord, despite his many failures and shortcomings.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
WHO AM I?
 
 Who am I? I was born in 1725, and I died 1807.
The only Godly influence in my life, as far back as I can remember, was my  mother, whom I had for only seven years. When she left my life  through death, I was virtually an orphan. My father remarried,  sent me to a strict military school, where the severity of discipline
 almost broke my back. I couldn't stand it any longer, and I left in  rebellion at the age of ten. One year later, deciding that I would  never enter formal education again, I became a seaman  apprentice, hoping somehow to step into my father's trade and
 learn at least the ability to skillfully navigate a ship.
 
 By and by, through a process of time, I slowly gave myself over to  the devil. And I determined that I would sin to my fill without  restraint, now that the righteous lamp of my life had gone out. I  did that until my days in the military service, where again  discipline worked hard against me, but I further rebelled. My  spirit would not break, and I became increasingly more and more
 a rebel. Because of a number of things that I disagreed with in the military, I finally deserted, only to be captured like a common  criminal and beaten publicly several times.
 
 After enduring the punishment, I again fled. I entertained  thoughts of suicide on my way to Africa, deciding that would be  the place I could get farthest from anyone that knew me. And  again I made a pact with the devil to live for him.
 
 Somehow, through a process of the events, I got in touch with a  Portuguese slave trader, and I lived in his home. He was married  to a black wife, who was brimming with hostility and took a lot of  it out on me. She beat me, and I ate like a dog on the floor of  the home. If I refused , she would whip me with a lash.
 
 I fled penniless, owning only the clothes on my back, to the  shoreline of Africa where I built a fire, hoping to attract a ship  that was passing by. The skipper thought that I had gold or  slaves or ivory to sell and was surprised because I was a skilled  navigator. And it was there that I virtually lived for a long period  of time. It was a slave ship. It was not uncommon for as many
 as six hundred blacks from Africa to be in the hold of the ship,  down below, being taken to America.
 
 I went through all sorts of narrow escapes with death only a  hairbreadth away on a number of occasions. One time I opened  some crates of rum and got everybody on the crew drunk. The  skipper, incensed with my actions, beat me, threw me down
 below, and I lived on stale bread and sour vegetables for an  unendurable amount of time. He brought me above to beat  me again, and I fell overboard. Because I couldn't swim, he  harpooned me to get me back on the ship. And I lived with a scar  in my side, big enough for me to put my fist into, until the day of  my death.
 
 On board, I was in flamed with fever. I was enraged with the humiliation. A storm broke out, and I wound up again in the hold  of the ship, down among the pumps. To keep the ship afloat, I  worked along as a servant of the slaves. There, bruised and  confused, bleeding, deceased, I was the epitome of the  degenerate man. I remembered the words of my mother. I  cried out to God, the only way I knew, calling upon His grace and
 His mercy to deliver me, and upon His Son to save me. The only  glimmer of light I could find was in a crack in the ship in the floor  above me, and I looked up to it and screamed for help. God  heard me.
 
 Thirty-one years passed, I married a childhood sweetheart. I  entered the ministry. In every place that I served, rooms had to be added to the building to handle the crowds that came to hear  the Gospel presented and the story of God's grace in  my life.
 
 My tombstone reads, “Born 1725, died 1807. A  clerk, once an infidel and libertine, a servant of slaves in Africa,  was by the rich mercy of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,  preserved, restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the  Faith he
once long labored to destroy.”
 
 I decided before my death to put my life's story in verse. And  that verse has become a hymn.
 
 My name? John Newton

 The hymn? “Amazing Grace”
 
 Author Unknown

 
 
 Here is the poem/song that is known throughout the world:

 
 AMAZING GRACE
 
 
Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound—
 That saved a wretch like me!
 I once was lost, but now am found;
 Was blind, but now I see.
 
 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
 And grace my fears relieved;
 How precious did that grace appear
 The hour I first believed.
 
 Through many dangers, toils and snares,
 I have already come;
 'Tis grace that brought me safe thus far,
 And grace will lead me home.
 
 When we've been there Ten thousand years,
 Bright shining as the sun,
 We've no less days to sing God's praise
 Than when we'd first begun.
 
 By John Newton




 

 

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