Rev. E. Anderson
AN HORIZONTAL MENACE
Text ‘Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us’ – Romans 8: 37 He was a tall, pale, nervous looking boy and painfully thin. Almost like an undernourished lamp-post!
It was his very first Camp and it was in beautiful countryside near Oxford. Shotover Hill. There were fifty or so other boys all Camping for the first time and it was early Autumn, they were thrilled to find the Camping Ground covered with blackberry bushes, that had been divinely protected from the local folk. It was years ago, and free fruit was a thrill, almost a dream and before long silence reigned over the Camp but for the occasional cryas one of the boys fell in the bushes, a punishment for reaching too high.
It seemed like Paradise, but then the whistles sounded and the Camp Adjutant shattered the dream. Regulations for the week were read out and our tall, pale and nervous looking boy, aged thirteen, paid scant attention until the sports programme was mentioned. Immediately his ears grew like cabbage leaves. There was to be football, cricket, cross-country running, and………..BOXING. Now Billy was not a lover of Boxing at any time but when he heard that everyone in the Camp was to enter the Tournament, he literally dithered.
‘Cockin Powell’, was in the Camp. ‘Cockin’ had huge muscles, wonderful chest development, with tapering waist and BIG FISTS…… Billy had none of these attributes. His fears deepened as learned that Mr. Harvey, the Sport’s Master, was to put every Camper’s Name in a hat and he draw was to take place immediately. BIYY PRAYED …….He hadn’t long accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as his own Saviour and knew that Prayer changed things.
The names started coming out of the dread hat….. JONES……………………..versus……………………..COOMBES HATTON…………………….versus……………………..BROWN ASHMORE………………….versus……………………….WILD As each name was shouted out, a ripple of excitement went round the Camp and then groans or cheers as the opponent’s names were added. But Powell’s name hadn’t yet come out. Billy thought, hopefully, that perhaps his name would be missed, or perhaps he had decided in the goodness of his heart it was unfair for such a mighty specimen of Human Fitness to compete with lesser mortals. Such dreamings were rudely shattered………
POWELL…………………..versus……………………….BILLY!!!!!
No it was impossible!!! Surely an ugly nightmare??? No, it was an absolute fact. Boys crowded round Billy, offering their sympathy and the promise of a first-class, topping funeral. It only seemed seconds to Billy before he was sitting in the Red Corner. Red for blood, of course.
They put on the gloves, and on the end of his long, thin, muscle-less arms, they appeared already to be dragging him to the canvas. In the other corner, supremely confident was ‘Cockin Powell’. Billy gasped…. He was growing….Every time he looked at the dreaded corner, Powell’s muscles grew, almost like baby balloons on the end of a Balloon Blowing Machine…..THIS WAS THE END.
Billy remembered again to pray. The roars of the boys were deafening. There is a sadistic streak in nearly all the teen-age boys. They had turned up in force for the kill…… Then it seemed to Billy that his prayer was answered. A suggestion from heaven!!! Or was it???? But, where it came from wasn’t the point. The words shouted in his ears above the cacophony of the raucous spectators…’GO IN AND HIT HIM HARD WITH THE FIRST PUNCH…DON’T SPAR.’
The bell sounded……Like a shot from a gun Billy was across the ring and delivered the biggest, right hay-maker in the history of Boxing….It landed right on the jaw and Powell went down. Billy stood over him trembling and praying, ‘Lord, keep him down.’ The count was on…Like heavenly music in Billy’s ears ..four…five…six…seven….nine OUT.
‘Thank God for that’ said Billy. He knew that if ever Powell had got up off the canvas, Billy would have been mincemeat in seconds.
BILLY THE VICTOR….BUT NOT A REAL VICTOR….YOU SEE HE WAS AFRAID OF THE UNCONSCIOUS CHAMP. You are MORE THAN CONQUEROR when you know that Jesus Christ has triumphed on your behalf, that there is no doubt about your ultimate triumph
This story was written by Rev. Gerald Chamberlain a former minister of Assemblies of God, a great story write and teller and inspiration to many boys and girls
