Jesus Did It!
'JESUS, FIX ME'
George B. Layton
(700 Club Testimony On George)
I've been arrested for everything from cattle rustling to first degree murder. I've been shot, cut and clubbed and had done much worse to others. All this time ' I heard God calling to me but I kept running away, truly thinking that God could never forgive or want anything like me. I had done far too much. I had given up on me but what I didn't know was that Jesus loved me in spite of me.
I had asked Jesus to be my savior back in 1978 on my way to prison for the first time, but my commitment to Him didn't stick.
In 1981 I tried Meth, and spent the next 23 years in and out of prison and jail, running from the Lord and myself.
Jesus was about to show me that He will finish what He starts. This is what it took to get my attention. Jesus brought me to my knees and carried me through ' being broken down to nothing ' to what would become my turning point.
It had been a rough night. My Wife at that time (Jonna) who had cheated on me twice before, had admitted to me she was doing it again. My thinking before had been that if I could forgive her and show her what real love was, she would stop doing this.
That didn't work out so good. This morning she said that by the time I got home from work, she would be long gone. Her drug dealer friend from Oregon was on his way down to get her. We had been doing Meth and drinking for years and had just decided it was time to get cleaned up because we now owned a little trucking company and wanted to save our marriage.
Looking back, I see that it was a decision I had made. The arguing was going nowhere and if I stayed I would kill this man, so I went out and fired up the truck, took one last look at home as I knew it, and went to work. They were not worth going back to prison for.
So you're maybe thinking how awful this is? Put on your seatbelt, were just getting started.
I spent the day at work, glad to be a truck driver, because like an old bear, I just wanted to be alone. I don't think I would have made very good company anyway.
The day just dragged on and on and I tried to call her two or three times, hoping that maybe she had gotten some sleep and we could still work it all out somehow.
Finally I had dropped my last load and could go home. I pointed the truck North. I got a call from a friend letting me know she was gone so now there was no reason to hurry to get anywhere. I took my usual exit and made the first of the two last turns that would get me home on the truck routs.
I came up to a slight right curve in the road and saw a girl getting out of a car on my left up ahead. She looked at me and waited for me to pass by so she could cross. Just as the first half of my 18-wheeler got past her I saw her dart out into the road way too early. In that split second I thought, "She'll stop because she has to see my trailer".
I watched in disbelief. She didn't stop. She ran under my trailer just in front of the rear axel on the driver's side. I watched as the rear fender hit her, slamming her to the ground on her back, then the rear tires running her over.
I was yelling, "Oh God no! No! No! This can't be!" I stopped fast as I was only doing 25 MPH, set the brakes, got out and ran back to fix it. Yes, I thought I was going way too slow for there to be any real damage. I would fix it and be on my way.
I got to her and being an ex-firemen, the old training kicked in. People were just standing around doing nothing and I noticed a man next to the side of the road she had been going to. He was frozen in place. It was her husband. He saw it happen.
I went to work. Blood was gushing from her mouth so I knew that in the impact she had bitten her tongue and I needed help to turn her or she would drown. No one would help. I yelled at them but they just stood there. I wrapped my right arm around her shoulder and was gently working my left hand under her head and neck so I could turn her, and it was at that moment I realized ' she was dead. The back of her head was caved in from the impact with the pavement. I checked once more for any vital signs. She was gone.
Time stopped. I could hear sirens coming from everywhere. I knew there was nothing anyone could do. She was dead and I did it. In my mind I had killed an innocent person. There was no way to justify or rationalize it. Innocent and dead.
I got up and moved away - looking into the faces of everyone - apologizing to everyone. This was her home; they all knew her. I went back to my truck and pounded on the side of it and waited for the police.
That's when it started to sink in. This will be a third strike. I am going to prison forever. I got my phone and called my broker. I told him where I was, asking him to come get my truck because I had just killed someone and was going to prison.
With that done I sat on the fuel tank and just looked at her laying in the road ... and I cried.
Someone was talking. I heard it again. "Are you the driver"? I looked up. Highway patrol. So this is it. "License and registration please".
A firemen walked up. They looked at each other and knowingly nodded - signifying to the officer that she was dead.
They led me to the front of my truck so I could not see her anymore. They then asked me if I was alright. I couldn't talk and they asked again. I just looked into the far off distance ' their words not really registering.
I heard someone say, "Do you want a chaplain"? I heard me say, 'Yes'. The firemen stayed with me until the chaplain arrived. He took me in back of some trees where I could not watch the investigation and then a trauma prevention person came up to us. lt turns out they were both Christians. Real bible believing Word of God Christians.
They asked if they could pray with and for me and I said, "You need to go pray with that girl's husband. He saw her die and needs you more than I do."
They both looked at me and said, "He sent us to you."
I broke down into a pile of mush. I had just killed this man's wife and he sends them to pray for me?
I heard one of them saying, "God will not give you more than you can handle." I remembered that verse from long ago. They kept quoting things that I knew were from the bible I had once cherished.
The highway patrolman came over and asked me to do a breathalyzer test. I did and it was clean.
Then he said the investigation was over. He told me after taking measurements and collecting all the whiteness' statements - most importantly the husband's - it all proved that I was not at fault. The two men who had been praying for me said, "That's what we have been trying to tell you. Her husband told us that's what he saw, then sent us to take care of you."
I was mush again.
By now my broker had gotten there with a driver that took my truck to his yard for the night and cleaned it off so I would not have to see it. My broker then gave me a ride home.
Remember the part about my wife leaving? I walked in the front door and the only things that kept it from being empty was the overturned furniture, the scattered trash and my dog. That was the most alone I had ever been.
This would be the longest night of my life. I just kept seeing her laying in the middle of the road and I could still feel the back of her head in my hand.
An old friend came to sit with me but I convinced him I was fine and sent him away. The old bear wanted to be alone.
The next two weeks were hell. I had to go back to work the next day or lose my business, but I just kept seeing her. I could not sleep, so I bought a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey and some sleeping pills. For the next two weeks it was JD and pills and maybe I could sleep each night until about 2 a.m.
I could not convince myself it wasn't my fault. lt was in those early hours of sleeplessness, just my dog and I alone ' the most alone I had ever felt ' for the first time since this whole nightmare began, I prayed.
I didn't feel like praying. I didn't want to. Something in me just did it. I heard me say, with tears streaming down my face, "Jesus, fix me".
That was it. That's all I said.
Then a memory came to me. lt was when my son died years ago. That pastor that took care of you and the service. Glenn was his name. Go see Glenn. What was the name of that church? The Salt Mine. Go to The Salt Mine.
So that next Sunday I went. I sat towards the back and did just fine until the singing started. I did my best to hide it with all these strangers but I was a big bucket of mush.
I calmed down some during the message part but then they started that singing again. They made an invitation to come up front for prayer, and for the life of me I don't know how ' but there I was standing up front crying like an idiot.
Glenn asked me what I needed prayer for and it all just flooded out of me like a dam had broken and a giant torrent had been released. People gathered around me. They laid there hands on me and prayed. I don't know what was said but I felt it. I felt it go -- as if a great weight was lifted from me.
I knew it was gone and I was free at that moment. You guessed it, I cried some more. I rededicated my life to Jesus right then and there.
Nothing has been the same since that day. I was delivered right there from the nightmares, the Jack Daniels whiskey, the pills, the Meth and the blame. Jesus gave me a new heart and a new life to go with it.
I stayed on at the Salt Mine and now have become a recovery counselor. I have found that what I have been through is now a blessing to others in their struggle to be free.
Blessings? God gave me a Christian clean-and-sober-wife, a home, a job and a loving church family. And I still have that dog.
God was calling me back and I ran. What's it going to take for you?
May God Bless You,
PT Staff Note: Here is some feedback from a Diane Ringer that we felt the Lord wanted us publishing:
I just read your testimony, George, and I loved it! In your testimony you said you could not pray. All you could say was, "Fix me." I know that feeling. My son was born with an illness so rare it had not been named until they saw it in him. He was very ill from birth and kids treated him so bad. He was always in the hospital but one time he started having seizures and then stopped breathing. It was a long time before they got him to breathe. Too long. The doctors came to me and told me he was going to die.
I was alone. No one was with me and all of a sudden my Pastor was by my side. I looked at him and he said, "I knowwwww..."
I kept telling him I could not pray except to say "Help me", and he looked at me and said, "That is a very deep prayer full of feeling. You need say no more because God knows your heart and hears the rest."
My son did not die but he had a long way to come back. He was like a newborn and the doctors said that's the best he would ever be.
I fired the main doctor and got another one because God told me too. It took a long time but he did come back all the way. He still had the illness though so I took him to a healing service at church a few years later and with the laying on of hands, he was cured that night. He now has children of his own and runs a couple of big plants.
I understand how deep your pain has run. I did not go to prison but was in a kind of prison of my own -- watching my child hurt so much since birth -- in so many hospitals. I would rather have died then have him die. So much pain for so long.
Yet God answered my prayer in that hospital and lead me all the way through with what to do. George - I forgot to tell you in my story that what my son had was incurable. He could not be cured by anyone and a simple virus could have killed him. Doctors flew in from all over the world and even had a special conference about him in Sweden. His illness could not be cured and we lived in fear until God said, "With Me all things are possible" and He cured what could not be humanly done in my son. Thank you so much for sharing your testimony!
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