A Tribute to David Wilkerson

It was a dark and stormy night.... Literally.

The rain fell heavy. In sheets. A river of water flowed under the gymnasium doors.

Yet people kept coming.

They filled the folding chairs set up on the gym floor. They crowded unto the bleachers.

When the seats were filled, people stood. Wherever there was room. Making space when there wasn't.

They came to hear an author. A man whose book had made the best seller list. A pastor who had walked away from his secure job to reach out to gang members in New York City.

Because he felt God told him to.

I was in the crowd. I was eleven.

The book? The Cross and the Switchblade. The author? David Wilkerson.

And although I had been raised in the church, for the first time I encountered a belief that drew me. A passion that stirred me. A faith that meant radical obedience. A friendship with Jesus that I wanted for myself.

When David Wilkerson invited people to come pray at the end of the evening, I went forward. Some would say that on that night I got saved, but that phrase to me always seems like an ending, when in reality, it was only the beginning of a Great Adventure of faith and friendship and belief and radical obedience.

Yesterday, April 27, David Wilkerson was killed in a car accident in Texas. He was 79 years old.

I am a piece of his legacy. Today I thank God for him.