Walking in the Miracle

By Floyd Ridley

Floyd "the Renegade" Ridley is one of the most interesting people I've ever met! His life and story are both amazing and so intriguing you won't want to put the book down! In his first book, The Renegade, Floyd's story touched many lives. This new book is the perfect sequel that gives you the how-tos on how to have a victorious life. Floyd is the real deal. In all the years I have known him, his love for God, passion for truth, and love for hurting people have always impacted my life. Floyd is a man that walks with the Lord. His desire for God to lead, direct, and use his life is why he will continue to be a light in the darkness, a voice of hope to the hopeless, bringing the love of God to the broken and hurting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639037698

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Walking in the Miracle

Floyd Ridley

Copyright © 2021 by Floyd Ridley

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Hindsight Is 20/20

A New Life—All Things Are Passed Away

New Habits

New Motives

Obedience

Availability

Faith

Overcoming Discouragement

If I Can Do It, You Can Too

To my brother, Arty, and my sister-in-law, Jane.

Foreword

One of the greatest privileges in the past three years of my life has been to sit with Floyd and talk about his life over a cup of coffee. I first became connected with Floyd when we both started attending Champion Christian Center. In the summer of 2017, he asked me if I knew anyone who could type a book for him. I always had an interest in writing and storytelling, and I had heard a few of Floyd’s favorite stories already, so I volunteered.

I did not realize that the next months and years of my life would be such a blessing. When we meet, Floyd is always ready to talk about both what God has done and what God is doing. When he talks, he is not just telling a story or trying to communicate a spiritual point; he is letting the Holy Spirit speak through him.

I don’t think he knows it, but at times, he has spoken exactly the word that I needed to hear. Our meetings have deepened my understanding of what it means to have a relationship with God and be transformed by Him.

The first day we sat down to talk, I was honestly overwhelmed. I could not believe that the man I knew from church had lived through such terrible situations or that he had done so many terrible things.

It is my prayer that the presence of the Holy Spirit that came into the coffee shops as we talked comes into your room as you read this book. Being around Floyd has changed so many people for the better and encouraged so many people in their relationship with God. It is an honor to help put his words in your hands so that you can be changed too.

Hindsight Is 20/20

I used to spend a lot of time wondering why I am alive. I’ve seen a lot of death in the seventy years I’ve been alive. I knew guys who died in jail, guys who died on the street, and guys who died in the hospital. I knew people who lived better lives than I did that still died before me. So why did God decide to save me? And why would He do it not just once but dozens and dozens of times?

The first time I almost died, I was just eight years old. My two younger brothers and I were swimming with one of my older sisters. We weren’t at the pool with a lifeguard and plenty of adults watching out for us. We were at a swimming hole out in Milford, Pennsylvania. Next to the water, there was a big rock that we liked to jump off. The first time you jumped, it was pretty scary, but then it became like second nature. It was like flying.

That day, I jumped off the rock like I always did, but when I tried to swim back to shore, a current sucked me under. I tried to swim back to the surface, but I was just a skinny kid. I didn’t have the strength to fight it.

I squeezed my eyes tightly, trying to hold on to all the oxygen I had. My body wanted me to inhale, but my mind knew that if I did, my lungs would fill with water, and I would die. I could hear people yelling above the water when suddenly, someone grabbed my hair and pulled hard. The moment I felt my face exit the water, I opened my mouth and took in a deep breath of air.

Are you okay? I heard my sister ask as she wrapped me in her arms and helped me back to shore. You’re so lucky that one of the guys on the rock saw you go under.

I nodded and enjoyed taking a few more deep breaths of air. I’m lucky you were able to pull me up too, I said.

We sat together for a few minutes and then moved on with our day. I jumped off the rock again, and neither of us thought too much about it. Little did we know that was only the first time God was going to save me. It wasn’t until I was off the streets and living for the Lord that I even realized that this was the hand of God that spared me. Even way back then, He knew what was going to happen to me and how He was going to use it all to bring glory to Him.

On skid row, in the Bowery of New York City, a man attacked me because he wanted my bottle of wine. He stabbed me in the chest and took the wine. Bleeding and angry, I chased the man down the block until a cop grabbed me and asked me what was wrong.

A guy stabbed me in the chest! I said, and I tried to pull away to keep running.

No, no, no, the officer said. We’ll take care of him. We need to get you to a hospital and get that wound taken care of.

If not for that officer, I probably would have run until I passed out from blood loss and died in the street.

Another time, I was shot in the side during a gang war in California.

The cops showed up before the fight was finished, so I ran as far as I could and hid in a bush until everyone cleared out. When I finally got back to my lean-to in the desert, I grabbed the bullet with my fingers and pulled it out. I had spent time with the Apache Indians a few years earlier, and they had told me about how they took care of bullet wounds when they were shot in the cavalry. So following their instructions, I went down the river and formed some mud into a thin brick and put it on the wound. According to the Apaches, there were minerals and healing chemicals in the soil. It was better than nothing, and if it worked for them, I figured it was good enough for me.

Every few hours, I would make a new mud pack and put it on my wound. I bled a lot. It took me weeks to get my strength back, but slowly, I began to heal. The wound formed a scab and never showed any sign of infection. Whether God protected me from infection or used the Apaches to save my life, I’ll never know.

In a different gang war, this time with the Hell’s Angels, I was nearly beaten to death by four men with wooden two-by-fours. Pain radiated throughout my body with every blow. I was in so much pain that I heard my collarbone break before I felt it break. Their goal was to kill me; there was no doubt in my mind. But suddenly, they stopped. I lay on the ground motionless. A high-pitch ringing flooded my ears from the blows I had taken to the head. Through the ringing, I heard someone say, C’mon, get in here. Free drinks, on the house. What are you waiting for? Get in here. I opened an eye just enough to see the bartender holding the door for the last of the angels as they reentered the bar. He saved my life.

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