My mother and father felt it very important that we were brought up to know right from wrong. I say ‘we’ as I happen to be one of nine, six sons and three daughters. They were very particular about our knowing the Bible. They were even more particular about each of us knowing Jesus Christ as our Saviour, before any of us left home to face a world that was largely uncaring and disinterested in such matters.
I was very close to my mother, even though I did not like many of the things she said to me. She used to say to me that I should try to be a good citizen of this world, and do the things that were good and right. But the most important thing to know was that one day I would go to Heaven.
Although I hate to admit it now, in those days I was not at all interested in turning to Jesus. I was growing up, and wanted to be like all the other boys around. They were free to steal things, and be as bad as they liked. I had to listen to my mother telling me about the teachings from the Bible, that we should not steal, and that we should respect our parents. These, and many other such things, meant to me only a life of restriction. I longed to be old enough to get away from home.
Eventually that time did come. I thought that at last I had become a real person, standing on my own two feet! Now I could live like the rest of the world, and enjoy the things they appeared to be enjoying. No longer did I have to listen to my mother quoting the Bible at me every day. I could put all that to one side, and be like everyone else. But God had different ideas for me. Now I am grateful for the way in my parents brought me up, and the things they taught me.
In a way I enjoyed my life after leaving home, but I was never totally comfortable with myself. I could always hear the words my mother said when I left home. ‘Son, your mother’s prayers shall follow you’. I was never sure whether that was a threat or a promise! I used to walk down a road, and actually feel those prayers following me!
One day, in December 1953, I was riding my motorbike towards Bristol City Centre. I crashed head-on with a car. And where do you think this happened? Right outside the gates of the Crematorium – the ‘dead centre’ of the city, you might say!
Sprawled in the middle of the road, mangled, and covered in blood, there appeared to be no hope for me. However, someone came, covered me up and called an ambulance. I was taken to the Infirmary. There they worked on me to no avail, and my sister, Dorith, was sent for. She came with a cousin, Pearl Thompson, to identify the corpse on the bed.
I could not understand what all the fuss was about. Dorith and Pearl were crying and calling me. But I was feeling fine. I was standing beside them! What were they bothering about?
In that instant I found myself in Heaven – at least at the Pearly Gates, as some people call them. We are very close to Heaven. It is just another dimension. You just switch over into this other dimension, and you are there. There, right at the entrance, with a tremendous panorama in front of me, I met Peter, Paul and Moses. What do you think they said? They said, ‘Sorry, stop, you are not ready’. Not ready? What did they mean, not ready? This was a dagger to my heart. I could not understand it. Mother used to tell me that she had offered me to the Lord when I was a baby, and that I belonged to Heaven. It was my spiritual heritage. She said that I needed to personally identify myself with Christ, by asking forgiveness for my sins. So why was I forbidden entrance? What was going to happen to me now?
I froze inside, as it were, thinking only that I had missed it, the very place which should have been my eternal home. I knew instinctively that there was only one alternative – Hell! I would now go down, down to Hell. There was truly no hope. But my mother had been informed of the accident and was praying, and she prayed strong, effective prayers. She prayed was, ‘O, God, I have no need of a dead son, please bring him back to life.’ God heard, and His answer was immediate. I was allowed to turn and make my way back to Earth, and into my body.
You can imagine what happened after I found I had been given another chance. I was going to make sure I got in this time. I cried to the Lord, ‘O Lord, save me. O God, I repent of my sins. Save me. Deliver me. Make me a child of God’. He heard me. I was in. My life was changed. I was a brand new man, giving thanks to the Lord for His goodness. I was discharged from hospital after 40 days, swinging on my crutches. I had with plaster up to my thigh, and my head was bandaged because there had been a hole right through my mouth and skull.
I was well on the mend, and soon began going to church to meet with other Christians. There, in the fullness of time, I met my future wife. She was a widow with a son and daughter. I knew, from the first time of meeting her, that she was the person I would marry. We married and settled in Bristol where I set up in practice as an Osteopath. And, as the days went on, it was as though I had entered into a school as a brand new scholar. The Holy Spirit was teaching me now, from Genesis to Revelation, – all over again.
Dr Ron McCatty PhD, was born in West Indies, and now lives in Bristol, England. Ron McCatty is a qualified Osteopath in Bristol. He has run a successful practice for many years. He also pastors a Fellowship in that area. For many years Ron was involved in the Full Gospel Business Men’s Fellowship International, as President of the Bristol Chapter and a Field Representative in the area. Ron’s life and testimony have been a tremendous blessing in the FGBMFI.