Charles Jimerson

I thank God that somebody told me the story that sinners can be saved by grace. I do not like to mention that I was brought up in a drunkard’s home, but for as far back as I can remember, my dad was a drunkard. I followed in his footsteps, though I do not blame him for my own actions.

The devil had me believing I could use will power to drink in moderation and avoid being a drunkard. I found out it could not be done—not in my case anyway. When I tried to use will power, I went from bad to worse, and ended up a helpless drunkard at the age of thirty-five.

That was back in the Roaring Twenties. The country was supposed to be “dry,” but there was always someplace where a person could get a drink. I knew every speak-easy and gambling joint. Every payday, I would get my check and go out with the boys. I always meant to only have a few drinks and go home to my family, but I would end up arriving home with all my money spent—money that should have gone to my children.

This went on year after year. After each one of those incidents, I would tell my wife, “That is the last time! I will never go on another drunk!” But it did not work out that way. I would climb on the water wagon and remain sober for two or three weeks, and then it would be the same thing all over again.

Then, in 1940, I came to the Apostolic Faith tabernacle on a Sunday morning. I sat through the whole meeting and heard the most beautiful thing I had ever heard in my life—the story of Jesus. No one had ever told me that Jesus could help those who could not help themselves.

When the altar call was given, it seemed as though I was glued to the spot. I wanted to go to the altar, but I could not move—I did not have the courage.

I did not go home disappointed, though. I stayed for the afternoon, and attended a second service that night. The same wonderful story was told about the love of Jesus. This time, after the service, it seemed that a magnet was pulling me toward the altar. I got down on my knees and asked Jesus Christ if He would help me. As soon as I knelt down, the old devil came around and said, “There is nothing here for you. Get up and leave. You can come back here anytime.”

I got up and started out of the building, but somebody who knew that Jesus answered prayer followed me a few steps. He laid his hand on my shoulder and said, “Brother, did you get what you came for?” I said, “No. There is nothing here for me. I will come back another time.” He said, “Don’t leave now. Pray some more, and God will answer your prayer.”

I dropped to my knees right where I was standing and asked Jesus if He would help me. I promised that if He would forgive me for every sin I had committed and take the booze out of my life, I would forever turn my back on sin. As quick as you could snap your finger, the power of God came down and broke every shackle and set me free. The very desire for alcohol left, and it has never come back.

That wasn’t yesterday. That was nineteen years ago. I praise God that Jesus helps those who cannot help themselves.