Volunteer for the Lord

MERCER - The chapel where Pat Bayman most often preaches is a modest trailer parked at Motor Inn Truck Stop. Rather than organ music, the room is filled with the hum of the engines of big rigs pulling into and out of the lot. Instead of vestments, Bayman wears a flannel shirt, overalls and a leather vest.

It's not a traditional chapel, but Bayman is far from traditional himself. Before preaching for Truckers for Christ Ministry, Bayman was a member of a motorcycle club for 38 years.

On a brisk fall day, Bayman, a St. Marys native who now lives in New Knoxville, sat with his wife, Carla, and shared some of the history that led him to Truckers for Christ.

The ministry began in Mercer in 2013 after truck stop owner Rex Bragg allowed the group to park its two mobile chapels there. The nondenominational program offers truckers and other travelers a place of prayer and meditation. One trailer holds a small chapel area, complete with an altar and kneeling bench; the other provides a sitting area hosted by volunteer chaplains.

Bayman is one such chaplain. His job description is fluid - he's helped travelers with everything from car trouble to homelessness. Most often, though, he spends his time talking and praying with visitors.

"Some people get a little down, traveling all the time and you try to lift them up in Christ. We pray with them, talk with them, do as much as we can in the spirit while they're on the road," he explained.

He knows exactly what it's like to live on the road: He drove a truck for about 11 years, worked for the railroad for 29 years and rode with a motorcycle club for 38 years until he left in 2008.

After coming across a Bible and devouring passages, Bayman said he was inspired to turn away from his life in the motorcycle club and become a servant of Christ. He firmly believes God is able to change people who are willing. His past life, riddled with bullets and populated by outlaws, is its own kind of testament to that belief.

"I was national president (of a motorcycle club) for a long time, for years. One day, the Lord spoke to me and said, 'Hey, listen up,' you know? So I walked away and got with him. Been with him ever since," Bayman said. "I told him I'd serve him seven times harder than I ever served the devil. I try each day."

He had seen a lot of unprintable things during his time with the motorcycle club, "things you don't talk about."

"You know, when you see somebody trade another human being for a part for a motorcycle or something like that, you know that's seriously wrong," Bayman said. "They have no respect for human life, a lot of them don't. It's a different world, that's for sure. You see it in the movies and you think 'sure,' but it's a different way of life, it really is."

He first became intrigued by motorcycle clubs when he came across the Hell's Angels in California.

"It was kind of a macho look, everyone kind of looked up to (the Hell's Angels) at that time. ... I thought, 'I want to be like them,' " he said. "And after you are, you see that kind of life and you live that kind of lifestyle and it's a place you don't really want to be, you know. There's a lot of things wrong in that lifestyle."

Bayman's history strikingly contrasts with the man who now speaks tearfully about the power of Christ and issues only a respectful "you're right, dear" when his wife corrects him about a singer's name he can't remember. It's no surprise his conversion shocked his fellow motorcycle club members.

"There was a lot of controversy about it. Some of the bigger clubs in the area were upset because I left," he said. "They called me up and got onto me about it and said, 'We heard you joined the God squad.' I said, 'Well, yeah.' "

When they asked him if he was going to preach to them, he said, "If you want to hear about Jesus, I'll tell you about Jesus." It was the end of his time in the club.

"Most of them, I don't know what it is, but if you start serving the Lord, they're kind of scared of you. 'He went off the deep end, he's flipped,' " he said, chuckling. "They really don't want a whole lot to do with me but if some of them die, sometimes they ask me to come preach the funerals. I get to tell them about Jesus and that's a good thing."

Others were just as surprised by Bayman's conversion. Once while he was in the hospital for a gunshot wound, a preacher came to visit and was poorly received, to say the least.

"I tried to throw him out of a three-story window," Bayman said. "I didn't have much use for him. All he was trying to do was tell me about the love of Jesus, but I didn't want to hear it."

After he turned his life around, he called the preacher to apologize. He told him he had started to serve God and he heard the preacher start praising the Lord, a memory that makes him laugh.

Bayman credits God for his change of heart.

"I think if someone really turns away from that lifestyle and Jesus comes into your heart, it ain't you. It's Him in you that turns you away from that lifestyle. You live for Him. You just have more of a desire for him in your life and pray others see him in you," he said.

It has been seven years since Bayman first made his vow to serve Jesus. Since then, he's helped with food drives, participated in tent revivals and preached all over the country. He said he's witnessed paralyzed people walking again, sores healed, even cancer being cured.

"He can make a way when there's no way, that's for sure. I've seen a lot of people - my friends - die through the years. Different things, drugs, shootings, knifings, motorcycle wrecks. You know, the greatest thing you can have is Jesus," he said. "If He can create you, He can heal you and that's the way I see it. Jesus had that God-like faith and we need to get ahold of that. It's available to everyone that wants it. You just have to have that desire to seek Him and He's there."

Since leaving the club and his old life behind, Bayman is sure God has led him to where he is most needed.

"There's always a reason after you get there," he said.