The situation at home got intense for different reasons. Now that I was saved I was very eager for my dad to be saved too. Typically impatient and foolish, I thought that I had to try to convince him of his need to be born again. I didn’t stop to think of how it had been God who had convinced me of the truth, not anyone else. For the next three or four years my dad had to listen to me preach at him whenever I thought the opportunity arose. It was inevitable that things would overheat.
I don’t remember exactly when it happened but I do remember the day very well. Yet again I decided to lecture my dad on his sin and the fact he was heading to hell. I wasn’t gentle or even respectful. All I could see was my dad dying and going to everlasting torment. It bothered me a lot. I prayed for his salvation regularly. I tried to get others to witness to him. Occasionally he would attend a meal held at the Church Centre and he got to know many of the members quite well.
So, on this particular day dad drove to my sister’s after my ‘preaching’ at him. Just before he walked out the door he told me he wanted me to move out. I was devastated. I went to my room and cried to the Lord. Too late I could see my mistake. As I prayed, God helped me see that my dad was right to expect different behaviour from his own son and from a Christian. I asked God to forgive me and I resigned myself to the idea of finding somewhere new to live. By the time dad got back I was ready to apologise and make plans to leave. I did ask his forgiveness but he had also had a rethink and allowed me to stay. From then on I decided to wait on the Lord for a clear opportunity to witness to him.