I was raised in a typical lifestyle of suburbia in the Northeastern United States. My Catholic mother and Catechism classes influenced my early religious experiences. These experiences were interesting through high school, but my Protestant father’s influence and my education left me with many questions. However, I had a spiritual awakening on July 2, 1986 at age 28 after more than 15 years of active addiction. I entered recovery and my spiritual life was totally centered on a 12-step program. The life was good, but I knew in my heart something was missing. After nine years of recovery, I knew addiction was not the answer, but the spiritual pain was overwhelming. (The term spiritual here is a New Secularism way of defining an emotional state as related to a Higher Power and not a relationship with Jesus Christ.) I had a career and prosperity, but Beamers and condos did not satisfy. I was educated but my intellectual life was dormant to the point of depression.
In the mid-90’s I began seeking God in the various Churches. I remember thinking I was some kind of closet Christian because I had began discretely reading the Bible more after I began recovery. The Bible reading gave me some simple awakenings. For example, Matthew 6:10 the instruction was that God put me on earth and I was not in heaven. I needed a vocabulary lesson because words like “believe” and “Heaven” had so many worldly magical inferences. The Bible helped me to realize my need for a Savior. When I changed my 12-step sponsor to someone I thought was a Christian, I said, “If I am in this much spiritual pain in a year then I am leaving.” (Again a New Secularism term of spiritual) That turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. One good thing this sponsor did was to introduce me to Christians who were attending a church in Philadelphia. I followed them and started attending this church, Calvary Chapel Philadelphia.
At this church, I watched the altar calls in amazement as people were coming to Jesus Christ. In a 1982 Christian concert, I foolishly thought the church planted people in the audience to go forward and accept Jesus.
One day, the pastor, Joe Focht, of Calvary Chapel Philadelphia made a small comment from the pulpit that struck a cord. He said, “Ok, you got clean from drugs and alcohol. Now you’re saved. So, let’s move on the next chapter” and then he flicked a page of the Bible over as if the discussion was finished. My jaw dropped and I said, “Wait a minute it can’t be that simple! I just spent all these years working on my spiritual program. There must be more!” I learned the blood of Jesus was the only way because my spiritual program had just revealed my sin.
This testimony may seem like one of those radical salvation stories, but finding redemption and hearing the Lord’s voice were very private and personal events. On February 19, 1996 I got a tattoo in a last ditch effort to hold on to my sin, because the Church will never accept an addict like me, recovered or not. In a short time afterwards, I was listening to Greg Laurie of Harvest Crusade on my BMW radio parked in my condo driveway. Greg made an invitation; I bowed and prayed to receive Jesus Christ as my personal Savior.
I struggled with assurance because I did not make a public profession. However, a few months later at a Christian concert I when forward at an alter call and told the counselor that this was rededication prayer. In July of that year, I found myself on Grafton Street in Dublin Ireland on a summer mission trip. I wish I had the time and space to tell the story of how I first heard the voice of Jesus on Grafton with the team. I know that I know Him because I heard His voice personally.
I have been obedient to His calling in my eight-year walk the Lord. He showed me the inerrancy of the Scripture through Child Evangelism Fellowship. The Lord has allowed me to serve with Harvest Crusades and in Sunday School. These ministries helped me to grow and prepare for the ministry at JAARS. As a result being here at JAARS can only be a testament that my Jesus loves me.
To God be the Glory,
Dan King
