Foreword by Johnny Cash

I have read Jack Shaw's testimony and was deeply moved.  I have a great deal of empathy for this man whose lines of spiritual ups and downs so closely parallel my own.  The testimony is credible and believable because I know Jack Shaw personally and I know that his turn-around from a life without God, to a life for God is real, because his living testimony is believable also.  Here's the story of a man who has overcome many near insurmountable obstacles and his faith in God and his daily commitment has made him one of the strongest forces to have crossed my life in many, many years.  I love him as a brother, and I recommend him and his work.

Jack and Grace

Grace and I met in church.  She was 13 and I was 15.  That day I looked back in church and saw her, I thought she was the prettiest thing I had ever seen and wanted to know her.  Somehow I talked her into giving me her address and telephone number. I wrote it down on a piece of paper and put it in my wallet.  When I mustered up enough courage to telephone her, her foster parents did allow me to come and see her, but they wouldn't let me date her. So I'd go to her house and sit and talk for hours - among many other things, about my belief that God wanted me to go to Africa as a missionary, and how she, as a very small girl, had seen an angel in her room the night her little brother died.

When we got to know each other better, Grace hesitantly told my that she wasn't very happy living with foster parents.  At the time I wasn't getting along very well with my own father and wasn't happy at home either.  All this added up to a plan: we would run away and get married.  She was 15 and I was 17.  She had saved up about $4.00.  My total assets amounted to an 1935 Ford coupe with a tankfull of gas.  So we ran away.
When her money ran out, I stole bread and donuts to eat and gas for our car. We drove all the way from Pennsylvania through Virginia and Maryland before we got stopped.  Then early one morning I got caught stealing a quart of milk from a front porch. The officer didn't know that there was a 13-state alert out for us, and we lied about our ages.

We promised him that we would go home and they released us.  When I got home my father handed me fifty dollars and the keys to his Buick.  "Go get married," he said, "and don't come back until you do."  My mother was against it.  But Dad insisted, so we got married.

The beginning of drinking

I went to work for my older brother Bob as a steeplejack and was earning a take-home pay of $73.90 a week, most of which I had to pay to Dad for our room and board. About a week after I was married, Bob contracted a huge church job up in Utica.  There in Utica, though I was only 17, I looked older, and with the legal drinking age only 18, I soon learned that I could go into a bar or liquor store without being challenged. I distinctly remember the first of what was to become countless purchases of liquor. I bought a fifth of vodka, a fifth of gin and a fifth of bourbon.  Then went to my hotel room and had a blast.  Then I became terribly sick.

That was my first time.  But not my last.

My mother and father

As I grew up, my mother and I has always loved to sing the old hymns together.  When I was about 10 years old Mom got sick. Mom loved us deeply, and she loved living - God graciously added years to her life.  It was through my mother's life, and her illness, that I first came to learn about God.

Often Dad would tell us stories of how he'd gotten into a fight and would end up in jail.  I couldn't understand how that could happen. I wondered just what it would be like if something like that ever happened to me.

Later Dad dedicated his life to God and quit drinking.  But even though I loved and respected him very much, and still do, the memories of those days were still there.

New Orleans and drugs
There was so much work for us in New Orleans that we were there for two years. It was like Utica, only worse. There were more bars and more night activity. All of this added to more drinking and more fighting.

With drugs I could stay up longer, go with less sleep, think more clearly and function better in every area. Drugs, then, I thought, really were the true "magic potion." Drugs gave me a superiority complex. I thought that those who weren't into drugs were really missing it.

Drugs were cheap and easy to come by.  And if you were careful not to run out an three a.m. some morning, you could be assured of steady supply. So with my new drug habit, I thought I had the world by the tail. I was literally riding high.

The biggest problem with drugs, I was soon to learn, was that when I "came down" or "crashed", the hangovers, the recuperation time, even the guilt was far worse than anything liquor ever produced.

Accidents

We'd been drinking rather heavily, and after a time our talk began to irritate the bartender. "Knock it off!" he told us a time or two. We quieted down for a few minutes, but soon forgot his admonition.

The next time he put it even stronger: "Knock it off, you bums!"

"Bums!" Mickey retorted. "Who are you calling bums, Mister?"

"I'm calling the two of you bums," the bartender yelled across the bar. Mickey and I looked at each other, then we both responded to the now irate man with some well-chosen language. The bartender responded in kind. Then he ordered, "Get out of my place now...right now!"

Mickey headed for the door. I drained my glass and set it down. Just as I turned from the bar to follow him, the pistol blast shattered the dark room. Mickey grunted and stumbled, then staggered out the door. Outside he dropped to the sidewalk. The bartender had shot him in the back. My friend died instantly as he fell on the cold concrete.

"You killed him!" I shouted at the bartender and started for the telephone to call the police. Without a word, the bartender leveled his pistol at me. I could almost feel the slug ripping its way through my body. I kept walking towards the phone, thinking I might die any second.

Another customer grabbed the bartender's arm. "Hey, one dead man's enough. Put the gun away!"

I was shaken like I'd never been shaken before. The police came and threw me in the Gretna Parish Prison lockup. And there I laid for a couple of weeks awaiting trial. At the trial, my testimony as a material witness was thrown out, because I was a friend of the deceased. Mickey's murderer was acquitted.

Another night of drunken brawling in New Orleans' infamous French Quarters nearly cost me my life again. Some of my crew and I tangled with a huge brute of a man. It took all of us to subdue him. But before the man went down, he took a swipe at me with a knife. In the heat of the fray, I thought he had missed me. Later I discovered I was bleeding from a six-inch surface cut from my ear to my Adam's apple, narrowly missing my jugular vein!

"God, Why was I spared?"

My older brother Bob and I were within 15 feet of each other when I suddenly heard the terrible screeching, crunching noises of tortured metal. Seconds later the bridge collapsed. Two men were killed. Bob was one of them. In my distress as I gazed at his crushed, mangled body, I asked, "God, why was it Bob? Why was I spared?"

God didn't answer me. Why should He? I hadn't been on talking terms with Him...(I loved my brother and still miss him terribly.)

Dr. Morrison

Even Dr. Morrison, my family doctor, tried to help me. When my continual visits turned up nothing, he told me he loved me and that he was praying for me. And he gave me a Bible. But I had more hell to endure before I took advantage of the Bible's contents...

I was alone in a motel room when I got sicker than I could ever remember. I flew home and checked myself into a hospital. The next morning the doctor came into my room. "I see that you're here, but I'm not sure what you're here for."

"Doc, I'm sick," I said. "I'm really sick."

"Where are you sick?"

"I hurt all over. I hurt everywhere..." I said.

"Well," he said, "I think you need a different kind of doctor."

"A different doctor? Like what kind of doctor?"

"Maybe a psychiatrist..."

"I don't need a psychiatrist. And if you're going to start talking like that, I'm leaving."

The doctor ran tests for three days. Then he came back to see me again. I could tell by the look in his eye that they hadn't found anything. He said, "You don't need a medical doctor. You need a psychiatrist."

Christmas Eve

God, I’m not worth the air I breathe, I prayed. Take it away from me. Let me die. I’m going to end up in hell anyway, so let’s get it over with.

Christmas Eve of 1974 almost climaxed the entire story. As usual, I was drunk. Grace and I argued about my drinking. So I pulled out my .38 revolver and stuck it against my chest. Grace turned pale. I said, Grace, this is it. I’ve got to go.

She said, "Jack, don't do it. Please hand me that gun."

All the time she was backing away from me.

No, Grace. I’m no use to you or to the kids. This is it.

When she saw that I was serious, she turned and left the room. I took a deep breath and pulled back the hammer. I slid my finger across the trigger and squeezed. At least I tried to squeeze. But I could not pull that trigger!
I tried again. But I couldn’t move my finger. I couldn’t move my arm. I could not move my arm or my finger. So I relaxed and put the gun down.

Grace came into the room just then, just to see what I was doing. I’m going to unload it and put it away, I started to say. I began lowering the hammer. Somehow the gun fired point blank into my side.

The noise was deafening. The force of the bullet slammed me back on the bed. And I know I was badly hurt. Grace didn’t move. She looked like a ghost. Oh, My God - oh, my God - Oh, Jack! oh, Jack!

I held my hand to my side. Blood squirted from between my fingers. I struggled to my feet and with great effort walked into the living room. When my kids saw me, my oldest son remembered the emergency phone number he had learned at school. He told my wife and she called the medics.

In the ambulance I held my head in my hands. Oh, God oh, God when is the nightmare ever going to end?

Jesus will set you free

Help came through my brother-in-law. After much pleading I went with him to hear the Gospel preached. Then I asked a counselor to talk to me, which he was glad to do. He opened his Bible and showed me words, from the seventh chapter of Romans, that gave me hope. That which I am doing, I don’t understand, I read.

A light went on. One of God's men understood me, and knew that I was powerless to help myself.

I read on. "I am doing the very thing I hate..."

Those words could have been my own.

".... wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death?"

The counselor looked straight into my eyes. "Jack, Jesus Christ will set you free of your drug problem...."

"That's what I want....to be set free."

"But," he went on, "He will do that only if you believe that He will set you free, then let him do it."

"I believe that He will," I said. "I can't do it. I've tried before. So I turn myself over to Him. And I will let Him do it."

Johnny Cash

The Bible became my constant companion and guide. In it I read God's promise to give me the desires of my heart. And what were my desires? I wanted to see my family happy. I wanted to sing to the glory of God. I wanted to sing and perform with Johnny Cash. I wanted to be a missionary, something I had always believed that God wanted me to do.

And, my dear friend, God has granted me all these desires. He has helped me put my family back together again. He has given me the rich privilege of performing with Johnny and June Cash, whom I've grown to dearly love like a brother and sister.

Turn to Jesus

You'll never be sorry you did. Right now, right where you are, you can accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior by saying this prayer: "Dear Jesus, I believe that You are the Son of God and that You came to earth and died in my place to save me, and that You rose from the dead. By faith I ask You to forgive me of all my sins. I accept You into my heart and my life. I confess that You are my Lord and Savior, and I dedicate whatever is left of my life to You. In Jesus' name I pray and believe and thank You. Amen.

After You Have Turned to Jesus

1. Get a Bible and begin reading it. Start with the book of Mark in the New Testament. Read it with a pen in hand. Take notes. Ask questions. Seek answers and you will find them.
2. Find a friend with whom you can study the Bible together. And do so on a regular basis. If you don't know of a Bible study group, start one yourself. Come together with two or three. Open the Bible together. Study it. God will reward your honest, seeking hearts.
3. Find a church that's filled with people who want to study the Bible. Worship with them. Become one of them.
4. Begin telling others of the peace that has come into your life, and share with them how they can receive this peace into their own lives. God bless you!

My Ministry

Throughout 1985 my ministry dates increased as never before, and I frequently shared Jesus' love throughout the United States. But God's tug on my life for full-time ministry never abated. If anything it increased.

I met Sid Roth, who ministers to Messianic Jews, personally and through his ministry; Messianic Vision. Sid interviewed me on his show and gave me an opportunity to share my testimony with his radio audience.

Afterwards Sid ministered to me. "I feel impressed to tell you something God has told me about you, Jack," he said.

"What's that?"

"God is telling me that He is giving you a special ministry of deliverance which will involve much spiritual warfare...."

With that, Sid suggested further training in the subject. He handed me several books and tapes, and suggested that I read and listen to them. Further, he told me, "I strongly suggest that you attend a Norvel Hayes seminar on demonology at Norvel's New Life Bible College." Which later I did.

Grace

When I returned from Washington, D.C., I was met with an emergency situation. Grace had become very ill with a terrible pain in her abdomen.

We prayed together, but the pain continued.

"Honey, I think I should take you to the hospital," I said.

"Not yet, Jack," she said. "Let's wait a day or so. Maybe it'll go away...."

But it didn't go away. So after days of suffering, one Monday morning we wheeled her into the emergency room. The doctor examined Grace and shook his head.

"What is it?" I asked.

"She has an inflamed gall bladder...."

"What can you do for it?"

"She'll have to have surgery. But it's just a routine operation...a couple of hours. And she'll be fine...."

Little did I realize how wrong the doctor was. I waited and prayed.

For two hours. Then three. By the fourth hour I knew there was something wrong. I paced nervously, praying. Not until six hours later did Dr. Griffith, the surgeon, appear. I could tell by the way he held his head that he had bad news to impart.

He took my arm and led me to a small conference room.

"Jack," he began, drawing a diagram of the gall bladder, "we've got problems...problems I never figured on."

"What kind of problems?" I asked.

He hesitated, then spoke. "I believe Grace has incurable, untreatable...liver disease."

It was a moment before I could speak. Finally, I managed to ask, "Incurable? What does that mean?"

He shook his head sadly. "I'll level with you, Jack. Grace's problem is invariably fatal...."

"Fatal?" I could scarcely believe what I'd heard. "Fatal? What do you mean?"

"I'm so sorry to tell you this, but..." and he pointed to his sketch of Grace's gall bladder, explaining the problem. He took a deep breath and straightened up. He answered my unasked question.

"At the least Grace has six months....perhaps as long as six years....I'm sorry, Jack. Very sorry."

Later, when Grace was strong enough, another doctor, Dr. Koul, a specialist, came into the room with us and told her the same thing Dr. Griffith had told me. I was so proud of her, and I thanked God for her faith in the One who loves us more than we can measure or even understand.

Later she told me, "When the doctor was telling us all about my condition, I was saying to myself, 'I do not receive this, I rebuke it in the name of Jesus!'"

"All of this is based on my knowledge and experience as a physician..." Dr. Koul said in conclusion.

When he had finished his grim diagnosis, I looked him directly in the eye and said, "We both know what you are saying is true ... but we have a second opinion."

"I smiled. "His opinion, "I said, pointing upward. "God's opinion. He has a stronger power than others. We believe that God will heal my wife."

He shook his head. "It never hurts to have faith," he said. "It can't hurt. Go ahead and have your faith. But what I have told you, I have told you."

God's Call to Kenya

This morning it seemed that the devil was saying, "Jack, you're tired. You did your duty to God last night...you don't have to get up this morning...you've got a good reason...why don't you just sleep in this morning? You don't have to be there all the time."

And so it went. I groaned and looked at the clock. I really should get up. "Just pray in bed and go back to sleep," the devil seemed to be saying. But I knew it was his voice and not the voice of my Lord. Because then God spoke to me, and I knew the difference.

"Jack, remove not the ancient landmarks," God said.

Immediately I got up, dressed and went to church. How very glad I am that I did!

Because much to my amazement that morning, there were two black brothers present. And from all places on planet earth, they came from Kenya! Both of them shared their testimony at the breakfast. But I was impatient; I could hardly wait for them to finish and the breakfast to be over.

I had to speak to them. I knew this was God's leading.

As soon as the meeting was concluded, I rushed over to these two brothers. "Hello," I said. "I'm Jack Shaw. God has called me to build a hospital in your country, in Kenya..."
They were delighted. "We welcome you to come to Kenya," they said. "You must come to Kenya."

Dr. Koul's office

Dr. Koul's office called us. "Dr. Koul would like for the two of you to come to the office. The doctor has something to share with you," she said.

When we got there he invited us into his examination room. "Jack and Grace, there's something strange about Grace's most recent x-ray. Grace..." he began.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He had a baffled expression upon his face. "Well, if another doctor had taken this new x-ray and compared them with the previous ones, he'd say, 'There's no way that these could be of the same patient.' And he'd think there was some mistake."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Well, I know the x-rays are of Grace, because I took all of them. But something unusual has happened. Something strange.

He paused again, looking puzzled.

"Anyway, Jack and Grace, the problem we discussed after surgery, and that has been apparent on all of the subsequent x-rays - well, that's no longer evident. It's not on the x-ray. It doesn't show up anymore. It's gone!"

Then he picked up his transcriber and dictated a letter to Dr. Morrison, our family doctor. After a rather lengthy letter, filled with medical terminology, in which he told Dr. Morrison the same thing he had just told us, he concluded with, "The problem that previously existed no longer exists. Grace Shaw, you're a most unusual patient. An extremely fascinating patient."

Grace smiled. "Doctor, it's not the patient who is so fascinating, it's simply that we serve an extremely fascinating God. He's the One who healed me."

It's true. The tube the doctor said would never leave her side as long as she lives has been taken out. And Grace, who had been doomed to die from a horrible disease, is completely well and totally recovered. Praise God! Praise God!

"God bless you, Dad"

Throughout that summer and fall, my father's health had been deteriorating, and by the time I was ready to go to Kenya, he was in the hospital, with a very poor prognosis. As I have mentioned earlier, he and I had not enjoyed the best of relationships for most of my life. But shortly after I surrendered myself fully to God's will, I spent time with him getting things all straightened out between us. Since that time there has been a mutuality of love and respect between us.

The morning I was to leave for Kenya, I visited him in the hospital on the way to the airport. He was very ill that morning, and I was torn between leaving him and going to Africa.

He took my hand in his own hands, and couldn't help but note how frail and thin his once strong hands had become. "Jack," he said, "don't hesitate....I want you to go to Africa...."

I nodded, hardly able to speak.

"You've been running from God for too long. And now that you've answered His call, don't look back...."

"I won't Dad," I promised, my heart full.

"Even if you hear that my condition has worsened, son, don't look back. And don't come back. You move on, doing what God wants you to do. Go build that hospital, Jack. Take Jesus Christ to those Kenyans. And don't come back because of me. God will take care of me. I am in His hands...."

"God, bless you, Dad," I said. "I love you." I kissed him and hugged him and bid him good-bye, not knowing if he would still be alive when I returned.

My lovely wife herself answered the telephone when I called from Kenya. "Grace, how's Dad?" were among my first words.

"He's gone on to be with Jesus...."

"I'm on my way home."

"We're not having the funeral until you get here."

It seemed fitting and right that my father's funeral was conducted in his church, the one I had attended as a child, the very church in which my daughter was married.

They asked me to speak a few words on behalf of my family. I was happy to do so. Even though my voice choked up with emotion a few times while I spoke....

"My dad was a soul winner," I said, "a man who led people to Jesus. He was a humble man. But who could have a greater vocation and calling than to share the love of Jesus with those in darkness? Great men have built earthly structures such as the Hoover Dam....the San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge...the Empire State Building...but those great masterpieces of engineering design will one day crumble into dust...

"But my father built a life for eternity and encouraged many others to do the same. Nothing could be greater than such a life as that...."

Meeting President Moi

"Brother Jack, President Moi has agreed to give you an audience."

"When?" I asked. I knew that people sometimes waited for two or three, even four years before being granted an appointment?" I asked Patrick.

"Now!" he said. "As soon as you can get to Kenya."

"I'm practically on my way. I'll be there as soon as God provides the way."

Miraculously, the way opened up, the funds provided, and the visa issued. And soon I was on the airplane to Kenya for the second time. I arrived on a Friday and the next afternoon I was speaking with President Moi in his headquarters. Praise God!

"Tell me about the hospital," he said. "How big will it be? How many rooms? How many operating theaters? Will it have a clinic? What are your plans?..."
I took a deep breath and began.

"Your Excellency, the Grace Christian Mission Hospital will be first class all the way...."

And I told him about the clinic, the two operating rooms with the latest and best laboratory facilities, the 77 beds, the well-furnished rooms, the adequate staffing, all of it. While I spoke, answering his questions, with him listening intently, by the time I had finished, an hour and a half had slipped by.

Finally he smiled and extended his hand. "Mr. Shaw, this is all good. Surely, we need such a hospital facility. You have our government's blessings. And we are ready to contribute 50 acres of ground toward the building of it."
All I could say was, "Thank you, Your Excellency. Praise God! And God bless you, sir!"

"Celebrity World Missions"

The vision continued: God told me He wanted me to put together a branch of Jack Shaw Ministries International called Celebrity World Missions. And that this support arm of Jack Shaw Ministries International would be used to attract worldwide media interest in what we were doing in Kenya, and to raise funds ro build and equip the Grace Christian Mission Hospital.

That evening I went to Johnny Cash's place and shared the vision with him and June. Johnny's response was immediate. "That's a great idea, Jack! And I want to be a part of it!"

June felt the same way.

And that evening they became the original founding members of Celebrity World Missions. I am convinced that, as God's timing allows, many others will become a part of this exciting new ministry...a ministry that will have a far-reaching effect on many souls and that will take the life-changing Gospel of God's love to the uttermost parts of the earth.

"The Johnny Cash Show"

To add to the miracles even further, one day Johnny Cash called me and said, "Jack, I want to do a benefit show for you and your ministry and your work in Kenya." I, of course, was very excited and very thankful and, sure enough, Johnny and June Cash brought the "Johnny Cash Show" to Johnstown and put on a free "Cash for Kenya" benefit concert at our church. We were all so excited; they not only contributed all their time and talent, but paid over $8,000 out of their own pockets for expenses to bring all the people and all the special equipment. And they brought the entire show; John Carter Cash, the Carter family, the band and the entire crew and we had a wonderful time in the Lord praising Jesus and seeing His missionary work in the world furthered. Over $14,000 was raised the evening! Praise the Lord! And on top of that we hired Tom Green, my Christian friend and brother from Cornerstone Television, the Christian TV station in Pittsburgh, to bring the CTV video production company to the show, and we shot the entire concert with video cameras. We plan to show it around the nation on Christian cable networks and wherever else God may allow to raise even more "Cash for Kenya" funds for the ministry and the Grace Christian Mission Hospital project!

The Journey Continues

The Story is still being written. Stay tuned...