by Terry Topley (Eire)
From as far back as I can remember I was afraid to die. The religious teaching we received never removed that fear, nor the dread of meeting God, but only emphasised it. One night after watching a film where the leading actor was killed I tossed on my bed, wondering where he was and then where I was going to be. Being unable to sleep I went down to my mother and asked her, “what happens when you die?” Knowing nothing of the way of salvation she said if I believed in God and did my best I would go to Heaven. For a time my conscience was hushed. At different times though I would be troubled again — once when my best friend was knocked down and killed; another time when I was trying to be ‘one of the boys’ and was dared to steal sweets from the local shop in Seymour Hill, Dunmurry. I was making for the door when a voice seemed to say “the girl didn’t see you but God did.” I replaced the sweets and headed home in fear.
The ‘troubles’ in the North brought much personal suffering from the hands of older boys in Seymour Hill. I endured it, believing it was because, as a Roman Catholic, I was one of God’s chosen people. Something happened at this time which had a great effect on my life. I was wakened one night by my sister screaming “Terry, there are men trying to kill us.” Petrol bombers had intended to throw bombs through my bedroom window. My bed was just below the window — I could easily have been killed. God overruled and being disturbed by our dog they threw them through the front window. That night after the emergency services had gone I remember getting down and asking God to show me a way for men to live together in peace. The Lord has since answered that prayer — Jn.14.6.
Due to these circumstances my family came to live in Dromore, Co. Down. There I came in contact with an aged sister from the assembly. Over the next five years she visited our home and I grew to like her. I noticed she never swore and also her appearance — she seemed happy and genuine. Due to illness she spent a long time in hospital. When she came home I decided to do all I could to help her. One day as I sat at her feet, Aunt Agnes, as we called her, got down a big black Bible and read Jn.3.16 to me. She told me I needed to be saved and how she had got saved. All this was new to me. I had never seen a Bible before. From that day I was full of questions and almost every day found me at Aunt Agnes’ house. She read Heb.10 and showed me that my priest and my place could not help me — Christ had done all that was needed for my salvation. My responsibility was to trust Him. I was convinced from this chapter that Rome could do nothing for me. My simple thought was “my church is living in the Old Testament, repeating sacrifice after sacrifice to no avail.” I couldn’t understand how to get saved. Jn.3.7 haunted me. The first time I heard it I thought I would have to die and then be born into the world again — I was blind as well as lost.
Life started to seem unreal. I remember sitting in a disco watching my mates and knowing they were unhappy. Many times the chat would come round about God and why are we here. My thoughts turned to Aunt Agnes and I wanted the reality she had.
Gospel meetings came to a tent near Dromore and a friend asked me to go with him. He wasn’t saved himself but was going to please his father. The preachers were Mr. McShane and Tom Matthews. I went three Lord’s Days. Each night my friend would ask me if I understood or would like to speak to the preachers. There was one night I would have liked to have stayed behind but thought they wouldn’t speak to a Roman Catholic. Both preached on the resurrection and as I considered that Christ was no longer on the Cross but alive and that God was going to raise the dead I was convinced I needed to be saved. I remember looking down at the sawdust and wondering “What does God want me to do?”
Nine months passed and I felt more the burden of my sin. I went for long walks alone thinking about all these things. May 26th 1982 I was lying thinking about the Lord on the Cross, His suffering, His head, His hands, His feet and the blood pouring down. The thought came to me — I could die in my sleep and if I did I would be in Hell. As I thought again about the Cross and the Saviour I asked myself “why was He there?” — He was there for me. I was afraid because I felt, this is my responsibility, I could accept or reject Christ and be lost. At age 21 I didn’t have a Bible and knew no verses. I didn’t know if God would save me but I knelt at my bedside and prayed “God, I believe Jesus died for me. I know I’m a sinner but I believe Jesus died for me.” Still on my knees the thought came — “Terry, the work’s done,” and I knew I was saved.
I told no-one for two weeks, then I told everybody I could. My friends soon left me. I was labelled a turncoat, etc.
After a year of wandering I discovered the truth of believer’s baptism and gathering to the Lord’s name and began to sit at the Dromore assembly. After nine months I was baptised and received into fellowship and sat beside Aunt Agnes on Lord’s Days to break bread.
I had begun to pray for my family, speaking and reading to them. I also started to pray about the South as I considered Roman Catholics brought up like myself and dying without hope. I prayed the Lord would send me to them. Mk.16.15 seemed to burn into my conscience — Go YE.
Mr. John Thompson asked me to share meetings in Dublin. He said “It’ll either sicken you or give you a taste for it.” It was very difficult but it gave me a greater desire to pray for the South.
The Lord started to work in my family saving first a sister, then her husband
and my old grandmother. I hadn’t wanted to leave the family in the dark to go to
preach to others. I had begun meanwhile to preach in the open-air with other
brethren around different towns on a Saturday.
When I approached the girl whom I was to marry I asked her to pray about the
South. Her reply was “I have been praying for it for five years.” After having
more meetings in the South and feeling the Lord guiding, both Cheryl and I asked
the Lord that if He wanted us to go now He would save my father. One reason was
that there would be a testimony in my home when I left. One Friday night after
taking him to a Gospel meeting, Cheryl and I spent well over two hours praying
that God would save him. Saturday morning I couldn’t pray. Very discouraged I
told one of the men preaching that I thought my father had missed it. He said
“either that or he’s got it.” My father met me at the door that evening and told
me he had got saved that morning.
God proved His hand with us in other matters, and feeling His leading I approached the Banbridge brethren (where I was now in fellowship) about commendation and they agreed, along with Dromore assembly. After some fruitful meetings and after getting married, we set up home in a small caravan in Co. Cavan. The work is most difficult but we endeavour through door-to-door and open-air work, along with series in the Gospel to sow the Seed, trusting the Lord will bless for His own glory.