Preface

I’ve known Alf Droy for thirteen years and I can safely say that I have never before or since known anyone quite like him!

There’s no doubt that anyone who meets him will never forget him. He’s a man full of passion for life. He’s supportive, kind and willing to do anything for those he knows to be in need. He’s a great laugh, able to enjoy a ’wind up’ with people form all sorts of backgrounds. He’d be great value in any company.

When you read his life story you’ll see why! He’s experienced an awful lot of very difficult experiences and yet has come through to this stage of life with a joy and purpose outstanding to all who know him. Why? Because he came to trust in Jesus Christ in the most amazing circumstances and with the most radical of personal consequences. It’s a great story!

Finally, let no-one assume that Alf Droy is anyone’s ‘pushover’. He combines a warm, witty and gentle personality with opinions which he holds on to like a dog with a bone! Some of his theological opinions are very controversial and have received little favour, and are certain to polarise the readers’ opinions. Whatever your theological conclusions, having read the book you will know that in meeting Alf Droy you will have met one of the most interesting men in Cambridge today!

Graham Daniels

Director of Christians in Sport

Introduction

This autobiography is dedicated to my children, Kim, Leigh and Kerry from my first marriage of 20 years duration, and to Daniel from my second marriage which is still enduring after 20 years. Pauline is not only a loving supportive wife to me, she demonstrates her love and concern for others warmly. Most children inherit money and family possessions on the death of a relative, but I believe this book may prove to have more lasting qualities. Perhaps in future the children of my grandchildren Amelia, Louise and Richard will enjoy reading of their ancestor from the 20th century and of my lifestyle and customs. My nephew Andrew Hoare will regard this book as a valuable inheritance as his grand-parents and parents have already died leaving only memories and photographs which fade with time. Hopefully this book, primarily written for my relatives might lead others who are not part of my immediate family into effective evangelism.

I hesitated about producing this book, not because I thought the message that was contained within it was irrelevant, but because in my opinion, there was too much of me, and too little of Jesus. However, the Lord has released me to give free expression of what He has accomplished in my life, and given me a greater liberty than I have ever been aware of at any earlier time, to testify to His goodness towards me, and His outstretched welcoming arms to all others who would receive Him, perhaps having been influenced by something I have written.

I make no apology for my pride in the Christ who died for me, and it would be dishonouring to His name, if I did not testify to the fullness of His Grace. I pray that this book may cause some people to realise that the time remaining is shorter than they had thought, which might cause the hesitant to reflect on their lack of obedience to their declared faith, and their own mortality. May the reader be encouraged by my experiences of how the Lord has carried me into lofty places, through provoking me to exercise my own tiny spiritual muscle. I do not consider myself in any way superior, or for that matter any less loved by God than any other, but I know that it is God’s will that everybody should be saved. I have often felt embarrassed, and have hesitated at times when I have clearly heard what I am commanded to speak out to those in full-time ministry, who through the very nature of their position speak out to congregations far more often than I do and therefore would appear to be a worthier vessel than myself, but God uses the foolish to confound the wise!

Chapter 1

My Formative Years

I awoke one morning during Lent 1983, and again contemplated a problem that had been troubling my conscience for some time. My tax affairs were under investigation and although I knew I could lie and cover up my evasion, my better nature was telling me to confess and make a clean breast of my embezzlement despite the risk of imprisonment. I remembered that Dad had been called into the tax inspectors office to explain his financial affairs and he had talked his way out of trouble; I was confident that I could do the same but today was different – I just did not want to tell another lie. I hated the deceitful character I had become. I speculated whether one’s life was all mapped out, with points being awarded or deducted by some ‘ethereal being’ or ‘imperial court’ for performance. My accountant would always explain our previous years financial results by turning to the profit and loss page of the annual accounts. I mused that this supernatural being would not judge the commendable bottom line figures presented, but rather the methods used to achieve the results; before passing a final judgement of worth. My wife and I were well set up financially, as we owned two sports shops and a health club in the centre of Cambridge. We supplied sporting equipment as wholesalers and installed our own gaming machines to an extremely diverse market. I was currently negotiating with the Cambridge City Council to open the first amusement arcade in the city. Six years into my second marriage we were settled in an imposing house, which we furnished with expensive items. We had enough money to indulge in regular holidays abroad because I had not declared my true taxable income. I was thought of in the local community as a successful business man and was well on the way to realising my ambition to be a self made millionaire at 50 years of age. I could clearly see I was materialistic and self indulgent. As an employee I had deceived my family and cheated my former employer. Latterly as an employer, I was cheating both customers and the tax authorities. Even at 49 years of age I was physically fit, having three times won the veterans title of the Cambridgeshire Squash Championship. I was a minor celebrity locally in the sport of squash rackets, having played in representative teams for both Cambridgeshire and England and had been elected as the founder chairman of the Cambridgeshire Squash Rackets Association (SRA). I coached widely, in England and abroad, both individuals and teams. My wife and I also ran about 50 miles in training every week, taking part in many half marathons over a number of years. Superficially I may have appeared on the outside to have everything going for me, a good reputation, a fit and healthy body, an attractive younger wife who loved me, plenty of money, but inside I was a mess. I reviewed my own life; married at the age of 21; irreconcilably separated and divorced at 43, leaving three teenage children aged 19, 17 and 15 years of age respectively for my former wife to raise single handedly. Perhaps all the years of heavy drinking, whilst serving nine years in the RAF, combined with ten years as a member of the Round Table and 13 years as a Freemason had dulled my sense of decency. All that I held as desirable and respectable had turned to ashes. I realised that I was morally bankrupt!

Suddenly an authoritative voice impressed itself onto my ears:-

‘Alf Droy, I know every thought you have ever had and I am aware of all your deeds. You believe that with your quick wits and your silver tongue, you can persuade your way into eternal life by charm. You have never acknowledged Me as Lord of your life. I am the Lord Jesus Christ. You are responsible to Me only, for your life’s work. If you surrender your life over to Me and repent of your sinfulness and accept My forgiveness offered by grace and not performance; if you will declare your dishonesty publicly and make restitution, I will grant you a place in Heaven beside Me.’

I realised that my life was an open book to a Holy God and that He knew the reason for every action I had taken, or not taken. There is a Redeemer and He wanted to save me! I am nobody’s fool and can recognise a good deal when I am offered one. Walking away from a failed marriage had not solved any of my problems, I had only washed my hands of the responsibility for failure. I could not, with impunity, turn over a new leaf as I would make a new year’s resolution, and avoid punishment without repentance for my past sins. I was morally and spiritually responsible for my own behaviour to an omniscient God. I leaped from my bed determined to be obedient to Jesus’ possible final offer. My wife was taken aback at my revelation although she calmly accepted my decision to confess all to the tax authorities. Later that day whilst wondering over the consequences, she felt compelled to read 1 Timothy Ch 1:19:-

‘and keep your faith and a clear conscience. Some men have not listened to their conscience and have made a ruin of their faith’.

Spiritually this day was the most significant day of my life, the day that the Lord revealed Himself to me. He released me from a bondage to sin that I had previously been unaware of. I knew what it was to suffer the pangs of a guilty conscience and to find relief through appeasement, but this release was completely different. Accepting Christ as a living Messiah meant the restoration of all broken relationships. Where previously, people whom I had vilified in some way, had their feelings mollified through my apology, without having forgiven me, Jesus forgave me on their behalf. As it is written in Psalm 51 ‘against God only have I sinned’. The instant I had genuinely repented of my sins, I experienced a peace in my heart beyond human understanding. I visited the office of the Inland Revenue without making an appointment and asked to see Mr Heap, the chief tax inspector, who was investigating my tax returns for year ending April 1982. I had obtained a large mortgage on our house, having increased its value by building an extension and paying for the cost out of undisclosed profits that I had embezzled from my various companies. Mr Heap was dumb-struck when I placed before him bank statements for a secret bank account in which I hid the money I had secreted away. I asked of him ‘What happens now?’ I had fully expected him to call for a policeman, who would hand-cuff me and lead me to a prison cell. Mr Heap said the fraud was too big for his jurisdiction and that the Fraud Squad would have to be informed. Later that day I wrote a letter to the Worshipful Master of the Masonic Lodge of which I was a member, informing him that I had become a ‘born again’ believer and no longer wanted to be associated with Freemasonry. At that time I was unaware that if I had progressed through to the 33rd degree as a Freemason, I would then have been calling on the name of Satan (Lucifer) for my guidance!

The very night of my confession to the tax inspector, I began to receive an incredible series of visions and dreams with revelation of their meanings. I have written fully of the revelations given to me in my apocalyptic book Wake Up! The Lord is Returning. I have read somewhere that a divine encounter is often the catalyst that releases the giftings of the Holy Spirit; and so it proved to be, for on the following Sunday, whilst I was on my morning jog, I was shown seven signs:

1 The reading of Job Ch 13, during my Bible study time:-

Man wastes away like something rotten, like a garment eaten by moths, though God slays me yet will I hope in His salvation. (paraphrased)

2 The wedding of the Lamb of God, with blossom cascading around my feet, as I ran under trees festooned with falling blossom.

3 I picked up a 5p piece, which was lying on the pavement, showing me that I was on the right path.

4 I found a second 5p piece a few yards further along. I received a ‘word of knowledge’, that the first coin had been tail uppermost and the second, head uppermost. I knew that what had previously been concealed from my spiritual sight would soon be revealed to me. I was to understand that the total value of the coins was not as important as their symbolism. The value of the coins had depreciated (due to inflation) but their future value depended on how these ‘talents’ were used. The Church was represented by the coins. I was told to reflect on the life of the Church through the ages and not to be intimidated or influenced by any stream of churchmanship. I was now the head, whereas formerly I had been the tail; I was a watchman appointed by God.

5 A level crossing barrier barred my progress and I heard a voice suggesting to me that I would be safe from harm if I dodged through it. As I was considering this possibility, a train flashed through. I hadn’t heard its approach. If I had foolishly walked through the barrier, I would have been killed.

6 I jogged passed a field, where I heard unseen pigs squealing from a pigsty. I heard a voice that said that I would be protected from Satan, as I steadfastly persevered into maturity.

7 As I passed the next field, a white horse trotted towards me. I understood it to be the horse of Revelation Ch 19 and I was aware of ever present evil close by (in the previously passed field) and the need for constant vigilance and spiritual discernment. I wrote down my spiritual experiences at the time and sought interpretations from several Cambridge Church leaders with whom I enjoyed a friendly relationship. Four were Anglican ministers, one a Free Church leader and the other person was my house group leader. I never understood why not one of them asked me to explain why I had given them copies detailing the visions and revelations and none of them offered me an interpretation. Some weeks after my conversion, I found that my conscience was still bothering me. I had been invalided from the RAF after nine years of service, owing to a weak lower back problem. X-rays taken during my admission as a patient into RAF Hospital Wroughton, had revealed a prolapsed introverted disc (PID), for which on discharge, I received a 20% (per cent) war disability pension. I had lost 30 pounds (lbs) in weight, since taking up squash and was no longer troubled with back problems. It was the continuous receipt of this pension that was bothering my conscience. I wrote to the War Pensions Office and told them that I now felt perfectly healthy and no longer qualified to receive this pension. My candid action placed an even greater strain on my ability to meet all our bills. As a finale to this week of revelation, I experienced a dream or vision, in which I was on my knees praying in a huge darkened auditorium and yet I could see clearly. I was aware of beautiful prayers, like chords of low sung Gregorian chants, echoing in my ears. I could sense other worshippers close by, yet there was no one near to me. I felt I was one of a huge congregation worshipping God. I knew myself to be in the throne room of God, whilst He listened to the prayers and praises which went on unceasingly. I understood my own body as being a temple belonging to the Lord. I was a living stone in a greater temple infinitely larger than my brain could conceive of, it was an awesome experience. But I am getting in front of myself. In order for my reader to understand more fully my fears and inhibitions and my release from the 50 years of darkness and bondage that I lived through, I shall start at the beginning.

I was born on 22nd September 1934, at 25 Gerrard Road, Islington, which is within the sound of Bow Bells, therefore I am a ‘Cockney’, as anyone who has heard me speak will discern. I was conceived out of wedlock, although my parents married on All Fool’s Day, 1st April 1934, and so I was not what was euphemistically called a ‘love-child’, which back in the 1930s bore a stigma. No members from my father’s side of the family attended my parents’ wedding, I presume Dad’s family disapproved; perhaps they considered themselves of higher social standing. Although I was the first child of a new generation and a male to boot, Grandad Trixie and Grandma Cissie Droy, with seven children of their own, disinherited me. Although Mum’s parents, Grandad and Nanny Rosam, (Harry and Maude) were financially poor, they did not complain of the adversities of life. Mum often repeated the tale that one particularly cold winter, during the years that Grandad Rosam was unemployed, he used to hope for snow to fall, so that he could earn a few pence by clearing the snow from the pavements for the London County Council (LCC). He travelled many miles on foot on hearing that workers were being ‘taken on’ for a job. He finally found regular employment as a maintenance man, with the Pearl Assurance Group, based in High Holborn, that lasted until his retirement. Mum’s elder brother Harry had died in infancy of meningitis. My grand-parents also had two surviving sons to provide for; my uncles Albert and Charlie. Albert had developed poliomyelitis at 13 months, this left him with a wasted and shortened right leg resulting in his walking with a bad limp. He attended what he called a ‘school for cripples’ for most of his school life The 1930s was a time when back-street abortionists operated in unsanitary conditions with non-sterilised instruments, and no after care being provided, often leading to post-operative complications. Many an unfortunate impregnated female, seeking an abortion, for a variety of reasons, risked not only their health, but their life also. Not for me the good old days, but I am appalled at the present abortion laws in Britain, which were introduced to stop the earlier tragedies but have led to a greater carnage. Thankfully no stigma is attached at the turn of the 20th century to being born out of wedlock. I never told my parents how grateful I was to be born to them, I was too tongue-tied and embarrassed, but I hope I communicated my love for them in meaningful ways. Not long after my parents married, Mum resigned from her job with the Initial Towel Company, where she was employed to wash and iron laundry that customers brought to the shop. Mum laboured at this back breaking job for 12 hours each day, and six full working days each week with no paid holidays. British society today would never accept such conditions, although there are still areas of exploitation being exposed in the 1990s. Following my birth, until we moved to Greenford, Mum worked for a friend in a haberdashery shop in Holloway Road. The friend was the separated wife of the landlord of the Star public house (PH), the local pub. Albert regularly wheeled my pram to the shop, at the time for my feeding, until his parents moved to Greenford.

In 1936, at the age of two, before the general availability of penicillin in hospitals, I suffered an acute appendicitis. The poisoned sac in my abdomen ruptured during its extraction, resulting in the poison spreading throughout my body. Following the operation, I spent a further six months in hospital, lying flat on my back, in my bed, with the bed-head raised towards the ceiling. Glass rods were inserted into my abdomen draining contaminated blood from my body into a receptacle. It was a wonder to me, having seen other patients in hospital propped up in a similar fashion, that I never slid out of the tucked-in sheets, onto the floor! I was discharged from hospital with 24 boils covering my tiny body (a decade passed before, in my late teens, I was finally freed from the plague of boils).

By

Alf Droy

Introduction

Chapter 1

My Formative Years