ffhm@skybest.com

I was born in Los Angeles in 1949 into a Reform Jewish family. We grew up in the suburbs and had the usual and normal lifestyle of the 50s and 60s. My father was a strict man brought up in the old world of Jewish law. He was a faithful attendee in the synagogue, but didn't express a love for God. My mother was a nurse who worked the 3 to 11 shift my whole life.

I literally was raised by a big sister who took advantage of her authority and size to make life miserable for me. My younger sister was not much of an issue in my life. I was Bar Mitzvah at age 13 and confirmed at 16, went into the Army at 17 and never went back to the synagogue, except a time of two because my Gentile wife was curious about the customs.

My wife was born and raised a Christian in Ashe County, NC. For almost 30 years of married life I successfully kept my wife from going to church. I successfully kept my children away from God. I successfully fulfilled my own lusts and desires for worldly things and worldly pleasures. I was taught through the hardship of my childhood that love was something that hurt you. My father would say, before he took a belt to me, "I'm only doing this because I love you", then he would hit me and humiliate me. This is what I knew of love.

To the world I was a great guy. I was in the medical profession as a Physician's Assistant for a local surgeon and I was well liked by our patients and hospital staff. They thought I was so nice. But all the time I was a sinner in my own world. As the years went by, Polly and I raised two daughters. The harder I tried to NOT be like my father, the more I was like him. So my children, even though I never physically harmed them, grew up with the abuse of my voice and stature.

In other words, their love for me was due to their fear of me, just like my father and me. It turned out that our younger daughter suffered with ulcerative colitis and while still in her early 30's, had to undergo extensive surgery to heal her problem.

All this was going on while I was running around the country as a tour director with a company I'll just refer to as "Heathen Tours" having a great time. It was during all this, too, that I failed my wife in the worst possible way. Not just being gone when she needed me the most, but also being unfaithful to her.

On Christmas Eve of 1996, it all came to a head and Polly threw me out of the house telling me I was no good for her or the family and that she was a lot better off and happier without me to worry about. I packed my belongings in my pickup and went to a local motel. It was a typical Christmas Eve, cold, snowing, and very dark. The streets were empty as I drove to the motel. The owner wouldn't let me stay there because he had a rule that married locals can't stay in his motel. I had to swallow my pride and "confess" to him what was going on. He took pity and made an exception. It turns out he is a Christian, and his letting me stay there was a sign of Christ's love. It dawned on me as I entered my room that my life was over. I had lost everything that was important to me. I would never see my wife, daughters and grandchildren again. I was more angry than depressed at that moment.

There was an open book on the TV. I knew what it was and I didn't want anything to do with it. I always put those Bibles in a drawer when I checked into motels, but this time I swiped it off the TV onto the floor where it fell - Open. I tried to kick it under the bed, but it hit one of those wooden frames under the mattress, and it skidded towards the bathroom. I reached down to pick it up to put in a drawer. As I lifted it, I felt the strongest "voice" in my head say, "Read it now". I felt unusual warmth in my hands and I looked down into the book and read about peace and love. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you, not as the world gives it to you; let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." (John 14:27)

I had planned to end my life, being that it wasn't worth much. But I kept seeing these two words "peace and love" on the page and I started to think that maybe the answers were in this book. This book was, of course, the Holy Bible placed there by the Gideons. I read enough to know I had to talk to someone about this and the only person who came to mind was my wife's pastor, Reverend Lawrence Goodman.

I called Polly and told her that I was out of control and could not understand why I kept on doing such terrible things. I asked her if she thought her pastor would see me, and she said she didn't know. So I called him and asked him if I could make an appointment to see him sometime after Christmas and he said, "No." He would see me first thing in the morning, Christmas morning. That was the second sign of love. The next morning I drove to his home. He had sent his family out so he could meet with me. I started to cry and confess to him what I had done. He didn't scold, judge, or pity. He simple listened and asked me if I knew about Jesus. He told me that the ONLY way to make it through the addiction of sin and have a peaceful life is to invite Jesus the Savior into my life. My first thought was that this is absurd. But this warmth came over me again and I realized for the first time in my adult life, that I was not in control. I had no power in my own life. After a few hours of talking,  he told me to go back to the hotel and read the Gospel of John three times. I left realizing that I was more depressed than I have ever been in my life. I realized I had failed in everything. My shirt was soaked with tears. I still thought about killing myself.

I was on the way back to the hotel when I found myself passing the home of a couple who had been good friends for years. They had always been what I thought were "real Christians". They were the ones who stayed with Polly while she suffered through the chemotherapy. They were the last people in the world I wanted to see. I was so ashamed of myself. Nevertheless, I know now, that the Holy Spirit was in control that night and I found myself driving into the driveway of Herb and Barb Rash. I went into the house and found them sitting on the sofa, watching their two beautiful children opening presents under the tree. I started crying again and they sat there amazed because they had just been praying for me. They didn't know what was going on with Polly and me. I told them a little about what was happening and how I had just been to see their pastor. Barb started crying, got up and left the room. When she returned, she was carrying a book and showed me that it was her prayer journal and where she had been praying for me for more than 10 years.

I was so touched by this act of love; I had to leave, being overcome with emotions I didn't know how to deal with. No one had ever said that to me in my life. That was the third sign of love that day.

For the next three days, I stayed in the motel room and read the Gospel of John as the pastor had suggested. I even prayed, which was awkward, as I had never prayed like this before. I can't remember exactly what went on for those three days. Nevertheless, on Sunday morning, I called Polly and asked her if I could go to church with her. She said I could if I wanted to, but I could tell she really didn't care. At church I sat with her in the fourth pew on the right and the pastor gave a powerful sermon. I was sobbing when he finished. I went forward at his invitation, actually lifted out of the pew, not knowing why or how, and told him I needed help. He asked me if I was ready to accept Jesus into my life and I said, “yes”. Was I doing this for Polly he asked. I said no, I was doing this for me. Because if I didn't, I was going to die. He told me to get down on my knees, but my legs gave out and I fell down on my knees and face. The water came flushing out of my eyes, nose and mouth and my whole body felt like it was in a spasm. He asked several questions which I cannot remember except that I answered yes and then I felt a hand on my back and then one on my head then many hands all over me. I felt such a presence that I had never felt before. When the moment passed, I was helped up and sat down on the pew to get myself collected. I realized that almost every person in that church had come down to lay hands on me. That was the fourth sign of Christ's love. But most wonderful was that Polly was one of the many people kneeling next to me and touching me as I sobbed.

I had to leave after that. I had promised my mother I would fly out to San Francisco and be with her, as she lies dying of leukemia. It wasn't until I was on the plane and talking to a Christian man, that I learned I had just been "saved". My time spent with my mother was shocking. I learned that even on her deathbed, my mother, who encouraged and pushed me to fulfill the traditions of Judaism as a young man, did not believe in God. What a shock! I had to tell her what had occurred that morning in the church. I was afraid to tell her, because most Jewish mothers have a strong negative reaction to this kind of news. But Mom was actually happy for me. She knew my life was difficult and she was happy that I had found peace in my life. But she was not interested in knowing who Jesus was or surrendering herself to him. I stayed with her for 6 weeks and during that time she got a little better. I spent a lot of that time going to churches and studying with local clergy. I was very fortunate to meet a Messianic Rabbi who explained many things to me about being a "Christian Jew". I actually met with him several times to listen and learn. I left there with a good feeling about myself and the new creature I had become.

After six weeks, Polly allowed me to come home to try to restore our very shattered marriage. I couldn't go back to work for "Heathen Tours" because of the kind of lifestyle it represented. I found out about a company in NC that was looking for a director. Believe it or not, I was hired by Christian Tours as a tour director and eventually spent many thousands of miles on buses with Christians who have helped me grow in the Lord. I have met several Gideons on my tours to whom I give big hugs and thanks for their dedicated ministry.

I know today that I became a Christian in the church that morning. It took some time to learn that. Jesus alone came to me that Christmas Eve, reached down to the bottom of the barrel, into the muck and filth of sin and pulled me out and saved my life. He did it for a reason. I am not sure yet what He has planned for me but I have traded the life of darkness for a life in the Light and for that trade I promised Him my life. I will do whatever He asks of me. That's all there is to it. Without Him, I am nothing. I believe He called me into ministry by opening up the opportunity for me to attend Fruitland Baptist Bible Institute. I graduated in June 2001 after completing a 2-year course of study. I share my testimony with Gideons at their Pastor's Banquets several times a year and at many churches. I was ordained as a minister of the Gospel on April 14, 2002, and served as pastor of Phoenix Baptist Church in Lansing, NC. for 15 months. In July of 2003 a small group of committed believers and I  planted a new church in Ashe County called Faith Fellowship and Harvest Ministries.  In 2007 we bought our first building, where we meet weekly.  It must be a ‘God-thing’, but our church, where I serve the Lord, is only two blocks away from where I met Him in that motel.

Our oldest daughter came to know the Lord and invited Jesus into her life. Our youngest daughter and I were baptized together on Easter Sunday Morning, 1997. Both of our daughters are now married. I was honored by God to lead three of my grandchildren to the Lord and to have baptized them and my wife. Polly has recovered from all her surgeries and is doing well. In fact, she worked at three different hospitals during the two years I attended Fruitland Bible Institute so I could be a full time student.

Although God is still doing a work in my family and me, we are now a recovering, reconciled, restored, and most of all, a resurrected family.  God has been so good to us. I submit this testimony to you in the name of Jesus, for His Service, giving Him the glory, and honor.

Elliott Osowitt

November 24, 2008