MOTHERS
PRAYERS by
MICHAEL CLARKE
( ex church robber, now Sion Parish Mission Visitor!)
I was born and brought
up in Surrey, a son of a farm worker. My mother had TB when I was eight
and it left its mark on her since she was on medication for the rest of
her life. She had a kind of faith, so she had all her five children baptised
in the local Anglican Church. Apart from one year at Sunday school, I
had no church or religious background. Fast forwarding into the sixties
and as a teenager I loved the music and fashions etc. Trouble was, not
much of it was happening in my small village and I felt I wanted to grab
a bit of the action, so to speak!
Looking for
action
I applied for and got a job in a holiday camp in Norfolk and there I met
up with another guy with similar views. After a few weeks we decided we
needed a car to see some top groups performing in the bigger resorts in
Norfolk and we were also seeing a couple of local girls. Problem was,
neither of us had a license or money to buy a car; it came to us that
we should steal one! Obviously it was not good to steal one locally, so
my pal suggested that on our day off we should get a coach to London,
steal a car and drive back. That’s what we did! — in those
days there were no car alarms or immobilizers, etc and people actually
left keys in the ignition! We stole a Morris Minor (keys in the ignition!)
and drove back to Norfolk; next day we fitted false number plates —
our first step into crime!
Churches were
easy pickings
After a few more weeks we were tired of long unsocial hours and decided
to leave and do some fruit picking but it did not provide us with much
money; we were sleeping in the car and doing our ablutions in the toilet
blocks at a caravan camp. Because we were had no money, we started a mini
crime wave — breaking in and also stealing from churches; we must
have ‘done’ about six if I remember correctly. We would be
in and out in a few minutes. Churches, in those days were left open (until
people like me came along).
Police on my
tail
Cutting a long story short, a warrant was issued for my arrest. The police
called at my last known address in Surrey and you can imagine the shock
and horror suffered by my parents when the police called to arrest me.
Poor mother had to tell a lie saying she did not know where I was living
(she did know). She wrote to me asking what all this was about and I replied”
don’t worry, it’s all a mistake”. She knew something
was wrong — mothers know their children. As a result she started
going to church herself; this bit of faith she had was now to be put into
action and she started to pray for me.
God on my case
I was living in the east end of London at this time with a job and a bed-sit,
quite unaware of my mothers church-going and her prayers for me.. Yet,
little did I know that her prayers were starting to take effect; soon
my conscience began to trouble me and I began to fear any knock on the
door. If I saw a policeman when out in the street, I would put my head
down and slowly but surely God was doing my head in — mum was nagging
God so God was nagging me! Read Luke 18.1, the story Jesus gave us about
the persistent widow who nagged a judge into giving her justice; to shut
her up the judge relented. The judge was, of course, God! Jesus encourages
us to shout and holler to God for things to happen.
And so I surrendered
In the end this bombardment from above became too much and I knew I had
to give myself up. I was prepared to go to prison, so I packed my bags,
left them with a friend and went to the police. I found myself before
the magistrates who gave me a short prison sentence. I spent just over
a week in Norwich prison and was then transferred to an open prison in
Kent to serve out my time. It was in Norwich prison that I met Jesus —
God’s timing is impeccable! Mother’s prayers were really kicking
in now, though I was still unaware of her praying for me. Jesus came to
me, as he often does, through other people. He came to me through another
prisoner we nicknamed ‘Holy Joe’, a civil prisoner not a criminal
like the rest of us. At exercise time, twice a day, he would shout things
like, “turn to Jesus” or” Jesus can help you”.
At first I laughed at him along with everyone else; we all told him to
wrap up in not so polite words! Yet he persisted, thank God. One day his
words went right to my heart and I had this instant conversion; it was
a conversion in my mind and my heart; in an instant I knew there really
was a God, there really was a Jesus, that it was true and that Jesus could
really help me in my life. Back in my cell that night I said a couple
of prayers I had remembered from Sunday school. I felt I had to say thank
you in some way!
Time for a
fresh start
I left prison and after a while I knew I had to make a fresh start, a
new beginning and to find this Jesus who had touched me in prison. I got
a job at Fords in Dagenham, found digs and I looked for a church. I looked
at my baptism certificate and it said Church of ‘England, so I searched
for an Anglican church. I soon found a super little church, a wonderful
vicar and congregation who welcomed me. After a while I was invited to
go to some confirmation lessons. Confirmation day arrived and who came
along but my parents. My mother’s prayers had led to my giving myself
up, to my confirmation and now her prayers were to be finally realised
by my starting my Christian life. You can imagine the tears in her eyes,
the joy in her heart as she watched her wayward son being turned around
by God. Mothers prayers work! But it is in God’s time and in God’s
way that prayers are answered. Like the persistent widow in Luke 18, we
must keep nagging God — after all, Jesus told us to! I came into
the Catholic Church in 1991 along with my wife and we have not looked
back.
Living proof
Now I tell my story to anyone who will listen as proof that God really
is in the life changing business! As he turned me around, so he can turn
any wayward person’s life around. Keep nagging God! Get together
with other like-minded people and send up a barrage of prayers.
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