Tony Clark's Page

First, I should give you some background information. I was born in 1978 in Louisville, Kentucky, the son of Randall and Terrill Clark. Since before I can remember, my parents always took me to church at Lyons Missionary Baptist in Louisville. About a year after my sister was born in 1984, we moved to Elizabethtown, KY, but we still attended services at Lyons. We almost always went to Sunday School and Sunday morning service. Church was a place that I enjoyed and respected.

However, one Sunday morning in March of 1988, something changed. I listened to our pastor, Elder Paul Bryson preaching the gospel, and how that if you were saved through the Lord Jesus you would go to Heaven, but if not, you would go to Hell. I'm sure the sermon was much more complicated than that, but I can't remember the details. While Brother Bryson was preaching, I felt something was wrong. No. I KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG. I had felt the conviction of the Holy Ghost, and I felt horrible. I understood beyond the shadow of a doubt that if I died at that moment, I would be burning in Hell. Tears started to run down my face, but I tried to ignore it. I layed down on the pew and put my head on my Uncle Carl's knee, like little kids do, and stayed quiet. I thought that if I could just wait long enough, the service would end and everything would be all right.  The service did end, and I  left without any peace in my heart.  The next Sunday morning, the same thing happened.  I felt convicted of my sins, but I tried to hide my emotional response.  Again, I assumed that the service would end and that everything would be all right afterwords.

The next Sunday morning service was a day I will never forget. It was April 3, 1988 and Easter Sunday. Once again I tried to hide how the Lord was dealing with me, but after the dismissal prayer, I couldn't contain myself any longer. I went to my mother, and wept uncontrollably. I thought she could help. She asked me if what the preacher said bothered me, and I said yes. As soon as that happened, my great-aunt Lillian and I went to the mourner's bench in the front of the church. I knelt down and prayed my heart out to the Lord. Tears fell from my eyes, and rolled down my face. I must have looked like a mess, but I didn't care at all. All that mattered to me was being saved by God. I prayed to God, knowing that I was sinful by nature and that only he could help. I don't know how long we were there, but  many of the church members stayed with me to pray. After praying, weeping, and mourning to be saved by Jesus Christ, something happened. The moment I trusted in Christ with all the heart,  I felt the burden of sin go away, and the greatest peace entered my heart.

I rose up, and my mother asked me if I wanted to talk to Brother Bryson. I said yes. Brother Bryson told me that he couldn't tell me if I was saved.  I let him know that I felt like everything was okay now, and that I did not have to worry anymore.  He then told the church, and the church rejoiced.  

When I arrived at my grandmother's house in Louisville, my mother asked me if I wanted to call my father at work, and tell him about the good news. I was worried about the long-distance charges, but she said that my grandmother wouldn't mind. She called my father on the telephone, and I told him that I was saved.  He said that it was the best Easter present he ever received.

I was saved many years ago, and I have discovered that the Lord has been with me every day since then.  Sometimes, he comforts me, and other times he reproves me.  Either way, my life was totally changed by the grace of God on Easter Sunday 1988.