My Faith Story

It was a nice, warm, early evening in February 1978 when I touched down at the Tampa Airport, got my rental car, drove out to Clearwater Beach and checked into The Hilton Resort.  Although this twenty-eight-year-old, up and coming HR Manager needed to prepare for the following morning when I would conduct training for two of Frito Lay’s newly promoted District Sales Managers, my heart and mind were deeply troubled.  It was totally dark when I got to my room, changed into comfortable clothes, and walked onto the beach. I can only imagine what several groups of beach strollers thought the celebration was about. But there, sitting alone on the wooden frame of a beach lounger, I surrendered my life to Jesus Christ… as best I knew how… with my mind as well as my heart. My life has never been the same!

Of course, there is a tremendously important backstory to that life-changing night on Clearwater Beach.

I was raised in a Christian home by my mother and under the godly influence of my maternal grandparents, Nanny and Pop.  I, under various levels of duress, hardly missed a service at Nashville First Church of the Nazarene as I grew up. I went through several “conversion” experiences that, for me, were mostly emotional releases resulting in only short-term changes in my heart and my behavior. I truly admire and deeply envy those people whose early spiritual experiences were genuine and resulted in permanent change. But that did not happen for me.

My teenage years…even my early twenties…found me searching. I didn’t really know what I was searching for other than momentary pleasures. I wasn’t terrible…nothing to warrant jail time…but neither was I anything other than a totally self absorbed boy without direction, looking for short term gratifications with soft landings.

The first major impact in my spiritual transformation was my marriage to Diane. She was an unwavering Christian. Despite the overwhelming odds against a man changing his beliefs and behaviors, Diane made the very risky decision to join her life with mine in marriage in 1972. A risky gamble that I am eternally grateful she made. Just as hard as I tried to steer her toward my wandering behaviors, she attempted to steer me toward her faith.  I am certain that Diane’s consistent faithfulness brought about the perfect storm used by God to finally get my attention and commitment.

In late 1975, the arrival of our first child, Cayce, caused me to begin an earnest re-evaluation of where my life was going. And over the following two years, discomfort with my soul’s condition grew.

During that time, I was introduced to what for me was a totally new concept. I read and absorbed a book written by an older friend of mine from my childhood church, Bob Benson, entitled COME SHARE THE BEING. Through it, and its scriptural references, I was introduced to the reality that joining our lives with Christ adds much more to our existence. I had always thought that doing so would require me to just give up a lot of “fun stuff”. I was introduced to the reality that life with Christ is a much more abundant one. Especially impactful to me was Bob’s analogy of a visit to a Shelby Park Picnic and Baloney Sandwiches.  Something clicked and the discomfort softened my heart.

( If you have never read this poem/story, you can find it at:  https://www.skipburke.com/baloney-sandwiches-from-come-share-the-being-by-bob-benson/ Bob’s story is a must read! )

Also, during that time, we moved to Atlanta for my new job with Frito-Lay. We attended church where I met a man who showed me unequivocally how a person can be a very successful businessman and a totally committed Christian. Howard Marks was our Sunday School Teacher, and Howard Marks walked the walk. Every aspect of his life overflowed with the love of Christ. There was no part of his life that would ever make one question his solid faith. I’m not sure how, but Howard saw something worthwhile in me and invested his time, wisdom, and faith in me. I am eternally grateful to this man.

The day of my conversion found me driving through Atlanta traffic to the hubbub that was Atlanta Hartsfield International Airport where I ended up in a holding area waiting for a shuttle to take me to my plane. And up walked an old high school friend. We had been classmates at Two Rivers High School where we had competed against each other in a Student Council election.

Here he was, in clothes fit for a true hippie vs. my suit and tie, waiting for a flight to Oregon where he was to rejoin his commune… or some kind of free-spirited living experiment. We talked for quite a while. Although never close friends, our conversation turned deep that day as he told me of his unsuccessful search for meaning in his life. We agreed that it was a search we shared, although our trails were far apart. 

I actually cried as that fellow former Two Rivers Pirate walked away to board the shuttle and his flight to Portland.  There I sat…President of my Sunday School Class, husband to an incredible wife, father to a precious daughter, with a first-class boarding pass in my hand, with a fine home in the suburbs…and I knew the answer to what my friend was seeking…what I was seeking.  But I didn’t tell him…I couldn’t tell him, because I had not made it real in my life. I knew it, but I had not experienced it. 

I wiped tears from my eyes several times on that flight to Tampa. And I knew that I was ready to do something about my condition. Then on Clearwater Beach that night, life began anew as I truly repented and accepted Christ as my savior.

I could tell you that my faith has been one hundred per cent strong since that day, but that would not be accurate. There have been times when my distance from Christ has been more than I wish it had been. There have been times where I have had to surrender behaviors of mine and attitudes of mine…even things that might have been allowable but were not the best for me, my family, or for any witness I might have…as I sought and still seek to be more of a reflection of Christ who lives in me.

There have also been many times when His Holy Spirit has been so real to me that any doubts I might have ever harbored were blasted from my mind and heart. Even in old age, I find new levels of surrender required as I truly seek more of Christ. I’m certainly not there even yet, but I KNOW THAT I AM A REDEEMED CHILD OF GOD!

And I am so grateful that He has and continues to show me how my life… committed to Him… is a much more abundant life! I know what it means to trade a baloney sandwich for a feast. 

I never again crossed paths with my friend, but I hope and pray that the former Pirate who boarded the plane to Oregon that day eventually found what I found.

Although I have not experienced the tragedies that led Horatio Spafford to write the hymn IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL, it is my testimony. I am often moved to loudly sing out:  “My sin, not in part but the whole, Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!”

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