Around this time, my dad told a story about a promise God gave him. During World War II, a young Duane Hatch was sure he would be drafted. Since he was determined to never kill any person, he thought he would apply as a conscientious objector when he turned eighteen. But at the age of seventeen, the Army offered a special arrangement for high school students who met certain scholastic standards. So the army offered to pay his way through college if he would agree to enlist afterward. After praying about it one evening, my dad says he woke up the next morning knowing for certain it was God's will that he accept this offer, and felt God was promising him that if he accepted he would not see fighting. And so it was that he decided to join the US army on the basis of a God-given promise.
Duane Hatch in 1946 with his younger, shorter siblings.
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The Army sent him to a couple of colleges, including Yale University. By the time he completed the training, the war was over, so the Army sent him to inspect factories in Japan for weapons-making activities. And so it was that he never had to fight, and God's promise to him was fulfilled.
I found this story to be inspiring. And then, as I entered my teenage years, God gave me a similar promise, but for a different war.
Vietnam war promise
In 1970, the United States was fighting in Vietnam. Men were being drafted into the Army at a record pace, and many were returning home in body bags. So, in order to be more equitable about who would be drafted, the United States began a lottery system. Birth dates were drawn at random and assigned numbers based on the order they were drawn. The lower your number, the more likely you would be drafted.
When the lottery began, I was too young to be drafted into the army, but I knew the lottery for my birth year would come in a few years, and I was worried. So on the day of the very first lottery I asked God if he would grant me a sign similar to my dad's, even though this wasn’t the lottery that would determine my fate.
In the request, I was very specific. I asked God that if he would promise I would not be drafted, he would have my birthday drawn as the very last date. It seemed like a big request, but I wanted to believe that God could do that, and that he might. So when the lottery drawing was to begin, I sat in our driveway listening to the car radio. I then paid close attention to every date drawn, beginning with the first one. They were painfully slow, and it went on for a long time. Finally, they drew number 364, and my birthday had not been drawn! I was excited as it seemed God had answered my prayer. My birthday was to be number 24
365! But when they pulled number 365, it wasn’t my birthday. I felt dread and disbelief, and wondered how I could have missed hearing it. Then just as I was about to turn off the radio, they announced one more date would be drawn. It was number 366! I had forgotten that leap years have 366 days, and February 29th had also been a date in the lottery. So the very last number drawn was my June 8 birth date, and I claimed it as a promise from God that I would not be drafted.
In the year I was to turn eighteen I became worried, but I wanted to believe that God would fulfill his promise to me. When my lottery number was drawn, it was low enough I thought I might be drafted. But soon after, it was announced that we would withdraw completely from the Vietnam war! So I never received a draft notice, and like my dad's promise, God’s promise to me proved true. •
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Amazing stories
In spite of these answers to prayer and my grandfather's stories, during my teen years I still struggled with whether or not God is real, and I slipped into a state of depression. But change was coming. One day, a man named Brian Ruud spoke at a student assembly in our high school gym. Brian had electric enthusiasm and a blond afro as big as a volley ball. In his testimony, he told how a life of crime and drugs put him in prison. This then led him to a turning point where he surrendered to a higher power.
Finally, he told how the court system released him when fingerprints on a bottle he knew he had handled no longer matched his actual fingerprints. It was the only real evidence the system had against him, so now they had to release him. Brian concluded that God had miraculously changed his fingerprints!
Ruud's testimony was inspirational and my brother and I told our parents about it. They then took us to see him at First Assembly in Rockford. There we heard his story again, in greater detail, and he openly gave credit to Jesus for saving him.
Not long after, I was leaving our high school when a youth stopped me. He said he was from “The House of Bread,” a coffeehouse at some nearby church. He said to me, “Jesus Christ changed my life, and he can do the same for you.” He then gave me a copy of “The Cross and the Switchblade,” by David Wilkerson. I read the book straight through, and learned how Wilkerson made a radical decision to leave comfort behind in Pennsylvania, and move to New York to work with street gangs.
It was a decision based on only a Life magazine photo and article, and a sense that God was calling him to get involved. I was particularly impressed with how Wilkerson made decisions after praying for and receiving guidance from God. He seemed to experience miraculous outcomes from such decisions, and I knew 27
that I desired such a relationship with God, but didn't know how to get it.
Brian Ruud, as he appears on the cover of a book.
Looking for God
These experiences led me to a period in my life where I wrestled with the question of God’s existence. Around this time I read a couple books. One was by Jeane Dixon, a psychic who predicted President Kennedy’s assassination. Another was by by Kreskin, a psychic who seemed to demonstrate supernatural abilities on television. This caused me to think a lot about the occult realm and ESP.
In the end, I reasoned that if anything supernatural was real, then it strongly implied God was real! It only made sense 28
that if one could know anything about the future, read minds, or do anything that defied logic it must be evidence of a powerful intelligence outside our reality. I had real problems with the books of Jeane Dixon and Kreskin, as both raised red flags in my mind since they both denied basic biblical theology. Jeane Dixon talked about Jesus as though he were just a good man with psychic ability, but not the Son of God. I don’t recall Kreskin even addressing the subject. But even if they were inspired by demons, to me it meant that God was real.So that was the most important question in my mind. I think eventually this desire would lead me to attempt to prove scientifically that God was real.
Proving God
For Christmas in my senior year of high school, my parents gave me a copy of the Living New Testament. As I read it, I was drawn to a growing sense that the early Christians lived lives rooted in love for God and each other. At the same time, I realized that I was bankrupt in both areas.
Still, I was plagued with doubt, not to mention depression. The arguments of atheists continued to get attention in the culture of the day. One day, as a senior in high school in English Literature class I recall praying silently, “God, I want to believe in you.” This desire led me to decide I would run scientific experiments in an effort to prove whether the supernatural realm – and thus God – was real! At first, I ran simple tests, asking God for signs and flipping coins. I don’t recall any specific test, but I do remember the results seemed promising!
It was then that I began a more elaborate test. I considered the possibility of using playing cards, and for reasons I can’t recall settled on twelve cards. They consisted of eleven face cards plus the Ace of Spades. For the experiment, only see the backs of the cards were visible as I tried to discard the cards one at a time, hopefully leaving only the Ace.
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The deck would be shuffled between each attempt. For many days I was obsessed with this little game. When my Navy ROTC class decided to take a field trip to the naval base in Pensacola, Florida, I played with these cards the entire time we were on the plane, recording the result of each attempt on paper.
Occasionally, I would succeed two or three times in succession.
That seemed encouraging. By the time our trip was over I had documented more than a thousand hands. And while one run of four in a row seemed to suggest something greater than random chance, it still didn’t feel like proof of anything.
And then, it happened. One evening I managed to draw the ace last, six times in a row! Excited, I called my sister Karen into the room and told her what I had done. I could tell she didn’t think it was a big deal, so I dared her to do the same. And almost immediately she beat me by winning seven times in a row!
I personally believed this to be the proof I was looking for.
To draw it six times in a row, followed almost immediately by seven times seemed impossible. Still, I noticed skepticism taking root in my mind. Even though it seemed all the cards were identical, I couldn’t rule out the possibility that we could see slight differences in the pattern or color on the backs of the cards.
So I decided to change the method. From then on, instead of looking at the backs of all the cards, I began splitting them into two stacks and discarding one of the stacks. I would then split that stack and discard again until finally only one card remained. If that card was the ace, it was a win. In this way, only two cards were ever visible. I felt this greatly reduced the chance of somehow knowing where the Ace was. Still, the goal was the same, to wind up with the ace as the last card.
The next day in the band room at school I told a couple friends about the amazing results on the previous night. It was then that Dan M., a trombone player in our band said, “Let me try!” He had been holding his trombone and laid it down. I said,
“Sure!” and shuffled and split the cards, letting Dan discard a stack until only one card was left. It was the Ace! And he proceeded to leave the ace as the last card seven more times 30
without missing! Neither I nor Dan ever had any idea where the ace was, yet now incredibly he won the challenge eight times in a row! Dan didn’t seem to think it was all that amazing. But to me, this meant the supernatural realm, and thus God, was real! It seemed that only something supernatural could explain my run of six, my sister’s run of seven, and now Dan’s run of eight all in a two day span. Without God’s help, this seemed impossible!
While many would interpret such results as a sign that the three of us had psychic abilities, I never saw it that way. Since I had prayed that God would use this to prove himself to me, in my way of thinking, this seemed like proof that the Kingdom of Heaven was real. In hindsight, I think this principle from scripture was at work:
And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart. (Jeremiah 29:13, NKJV) Unfortunately, in spite of this strong evidence I still did not fully surrender to God.
Turning point
Not long after, an emotional crisis came. In Physics class I refused to let anyone help me thread tape through an expensive video recorder. The fragile wire pickups spun around behind a narrow slit. When I let the tape slip through that slit, it wrapped the wire pickups around the spindle. Now the expensive video recorder needed to be replaced. This caused both teachers and peers to ostracize me. A night or two later, in the quiet of my room, I prayed a prayer that went a lot like this:
“Jesus, I'm in a mess and I’m not even sure you're real. I guess I never decided to follow you – at least not like the New Testament Christians. I suppose if you're not real, I have nothing to lose. So here’s the deal. If you can figure out how to show me what you want me to do, I'll do it, no 31
Suddenly, in that instant something changed. I am not sure what, but the fog of depression lifted, and I felt an amazing sense of being loved. Then I drifted off to sleep. The next morning I woke up feeling great. This was incredibly unusual, and I tried to figure out why. I recall thinking, "It's not my birthday, and it's not Christmas!" It was only then that I remembered my prayer from the night before.
At this point, I began to read the New Testament in earnest. Now it took on a whole new dimension. Instead of just seeing it as ancient history, it was as though God was speaking to me personally, challenging my lack of faith and love. I was actually loving no one, and Jesus was commanding me to love everyone, even my enemies, with no exceptions. It had an effect.
After about two days my sister asked why I was not fighting with her anymore. When I told her about my experience she said,
“Well whatever happened to you, I like it!”
Not long after, Mr. Luhman, our band instructor entered the hospital for tests. Someone in the band announced that after school there would be a prayer session in the band room to pray for him. I made it a point to attend, but was met with resistance. A fellow student said, “I didn’t think you were a Christian!” But immediately, a girl came to my defense saying, “I think he is! I’ve noticed a change in him!” And with that we entered into a time of prayer, and not long after Mr. Luhman returned to his regular class schedule.
The end result of surrendering to Jesus was that I now had a sense of freshness in my life. Before this, I had spent months striving on my own to break free from depression and find purpose. All my best efforts had backfired, while simply surrendering to God did not. •
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God steps in
As high school graduation neared, some local companies handed out job applications. I filled them out, and by graduation was able to choose between two jobs. The first company offered two years of engineering school and the chance to work half-days as a machinist in a clean comfortable environment. The second company wanted to put me on a machine in a dirty shop with no air-conditioning, and no educational bonus. But I was naive.
In my youthful idealism I did not listen to my parents, and therefore did not make the obviously wise choice. Instead, I accepted the second option, and began working in less than ideal circumstances. My reasoning was that I had decided to go to Bible college, and did not feel I would work at the better factory long enough to repay them for the free education!
I quickly regretted turning down the better offer and promised God that if the other company called again and asked me to reconsider I would consider that a sign and would go to work for them. But honestly, it seemed that the chance of this happening was next to nothing, and I really thought I had made a terrible mistake. I am so thankful that sometimes God intervenes when we make dumb decisions.
After two weeks, the first company called back and indeed did ask if I would reconsider. I believed this to be a miracle, and so it was that I quit my first job and began a job at the Woodward Governor Company. Ultimately, I would gain two years of engineering education and ten years of work experience in an aerospace environment.
Coincidental invitations
After entering the engineering program, Gary, one of the other students, invited me to a youth Bible Study. That evening, as I was getting ready, there was another little miracle. My sister 33
Karen was also getting ready to go somewhere, and I was surprised to learn she had also been invited to this exact same Bible study! So Karen and I rode together, along with her friend Laura who invited her.
That night, there were about fifteen youth in attendance, and some at the Bible study placed their hands on Karen's head and shoulders and began praying for her to receive the Baptism in the Holy Spirit. Suddenly, she began sobbing, and then laughing and speaking rapidly in what sounded like another language. This was quite uncharacteristic for her. For both of us it was our first experience with the phenomenon of the Biblical gift of speaking in tongues, and we had happened onto a service similar to the one in Acts chapter eight where people were praying to receive it.
This then began a period where I actively sought to also speak in tongues, for I wanted what Karen had and rationalized that I wanted all that God could offer. I was intensely seeking the experience, but nothing was happening.
And then, a few months later after a particularly inspiring youth meeting I felt unusually grateful to God and was singing worship songs in private when it happened. Suddenly, my tongue began moving rapidly in what was clearly another language. I was amazed at the precise rhythms and sounds, and then as quickly as it started it stopped. It was as though, to my dismay, my mind regained control over my tongue. Even so, I was left with a deep sense that God loved me enough to let me experience this, and that speaking in tongues could be a genuine spiritual experience.
Over the years, however, I have tried on occasion to experience this gift again without success. During the following decades I have attended churches of various denominations, and have come to the conviction that the experience can be both beneficial and divisive – a perspective that is Biblical. I believe the beneficial aspects are often that it simply increases the faith of the one who experiences it. However, in the book of Acts God used it to speak to those who spoke other languages.
It is also biblical that it is one of the least gifts, simply because it has little value unless others happen to speak that 34
language. The workaround that Paul gives us is that when tongues are spoken in public they should also be publicly interpreted. But then the interpretation has the greater value.
For me, the bottom line is that sensitivity to the Holy Spirit is needed when exercising any spiritual gift in any setting.
That sensitivity is sometimes lacking. On the other hand, I have met many Christians who have never spoken in tongues, yet clearly have experienced God's amazing presence in their lives, and are excited about their relationship with Jesus. For these reasons, I have found that I feel at home in any church that honors Christ passionately, without regard to whether or not they encourage the gift of tongues publicly. The bottom line is that I believe in God's eyes your denomination is not what matters, but rather it is your relationship with Jesus.
Karen healed
About this time, a healing evangelist named Roxanne Brant held a week of services at First Assembly in Rockford. My sister Karen and I attended, along with others from our youth group. Roxanne did not fit the stereotype of a “faith healer”, for she had a gracious and quiet personality. In her services, she led people into the presence of God with worship songs to a degree that I had not experienced in church services prior to that.
Karen was praying for healing from back pain after a classmate pulled a chair out from under her as she sat down.
Vertebrae in her back were dislodged by the fall, and it took frequent trips to the chiropractor to put them back in place.
However, during one service, Roxanne looked directly at Karen and told her that her back was being healed. Karen says that her back then became hot, and after that she no longer suffered pain.
When the chiropractor called she went in to see him. He said that the bones were still in place, and she told him that God had healed her. He replied that he gets that a lot.
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A low resolution photo of Roxanne Brant in the 1970s.
At the time, Roxanne Brant seemed controversial. She said that God showed her that the Watergate scandal, which had just broken in the news, would become a major event for America. She also foretold a recession, predicted earthquakes would become more common, and said that persecution of Christians would increase. For Florida, she said that flooding would be a problem for about one-fifth of the state, which caused her to change her plan to buy land in southern Florida, and instead buy land in Jacksonville. She also warned of major power outages, and said she saw the word “Storm” in big letters. Then she claimed that in the future, store shelves would be lined with herbal supplements which God had created for our health.
It was actually this last claim that caused me the most doubt, partly because I had no belief that herbs could be beneficial. But other things also troubled me. She insisted that earth's poles would begin to melt causing sea levels to rise, even though in those days scientists were telling us we were entering another ice age. Global warming was not even a concept in those days. The bottom line? It seems everything I recall her saying has happened, or is coming to pass, and these memories have given me greater confidence that God knows the future. •
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Voted out
The youth meetings that my sister and I attended were held in a nicely exposed lower level of a Lutheran Church. The meetings were led by church members Chuck and Sharon Mueller who had a gift for relating to teens. An adult group was also meeting at the same church under the leadership of the senior pastor. Both groups were growing, and a number of people today can trace spiritual roots back to these simple meetings.
But, there were those in the church who were uneasy with the fact that some people meeting there were not members, and they were also concerned about reports of miracles, healings, and speaking in tongues. So the church convened a special meeting to vote on whether they would allow this to continue. We were all invited. After much debate, a vote was taken. The result was that we were asked to leave, as was the church's pastor, Walter Lamp.
When the adults left, they started a new non-denominational church, and named it Church of the Living Water.
It was meeting in the same building on Second Avenue in Rockford, where First Assembly got its start. Walter Lamp became their pastor, and I attended there for awhile, as did my father. We enjoyed their quiet spirit and miracle working faith, and I also came to see similar qualities in my dad.
These were people who prayed for the impossible and often saw it happen. One elderly couple would come almost every week with amazing testimonies of doors that God had opened for them to minister to others, and of miracles that God had done for them that week. On one memorable occasion, I recall that a blind women who lived in the neighborhood visited and asked for prayer. When people prayed for her, she became very excited and claimed she was able to see!
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When the youth group left the church, we had nowhere to go. The Church of the Living Water, while fine for Sunday services, was not the youth's idea of a great place to hang out. For a while we met in Chuck and Sharon's living room, and prayed about what to do next. It was the mid '70s, and it seemed every town in America had a Christian coffeehouse. So Chuck and Sharon talked to friends, raised donations, and soon we opened our own coffeehouse. It was located in two storefronts on the southwest corner of Kishwaukee and 15th Avenue in Rockford.
We painted the name Galilee House on the windows, and prepared to host singers and bands for events on Friday and Saturday evenings. I helped strip the floors of tile and lay down natural wood planks for flooring. I also participated in making tables from Electric company cable spools, and helped build, stain, and varnish a plywood food bar. Future Congressman Don Manzullo helped us gain non-profit status, and before long we were open for business on Friday and Saturday evenings.
Soon, Christian artists were coming from all around to entertain in front of multi-colored floodlights. We served free popcorn, and soda pop was also available. The result was that the place was often packed. •
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Premonition or protection?
Around this time, I moved out of my parents home into an apartment with four other roommates. We called our household the "Holy Ghost Workshop," which we also used as a greeting for answering the phone. One day, I was driving my car north along North Second Street in Rockford and exited onto Forest Hills Road. Suddenly I had a mental image in which I saw a newspaper headline saying "Rockford Man Dies in Crash." I somehow knew that this headline was about my own death, which I also knew was about to occur at the intersection of Forest Hills and River Lane about a mile ahead. This seemed like it could be a flash of supernatural divine foresight – in other words a premonition – but it also seemed like it could be an overactive imagination.
After thinking about it, I was pretty sure it was the latter.
Still, I decided to be ready to brake just in case I was wrong. As I approached the intersection, I saw a car parked on the right shoulder, and two men leaning against the fender. Nothing at all seemed dangerous about the situation. But then, to my surprise, a white car I had not seen backed out of the ditch directly across my path. I locked up the brakes and was barely able to avoid a collision. Without the premonition, I believe I would have hit it.
The experience was quite unique, and in all the years since, I have never experienced anything quite like it.
While some would attribute such an experience to some mystical psychic force, I believe that such an interpretation is nonsense, because only an all-knowing being could know what was about to transpire and come up with a plan to change the outcome. The Bible teaches that God knows the future, the past, and everything in between. In other words, to me it seemed the only logical explanation was that the premonition was from God.
Furthermore, this is one of several experiences that have convinced me, in addition to the Bible, that God knows the future and cares about our well-being. Sometimes, when difficult times 39
come my way, I think about experiences like this, and it seems easier to trust “all things work together for good for those who love the Lord.” (Romans 8:28).
Sometimes I think that the reason people are quick to credit a “sixth sense” or “the universe” with being the source of good things is because to give God credit would also mean we might be expected to walk in God's ways. Yet I am convinced God's ways not only make the most sense, but they are also the most fulfilling way to live life. As the prophet Hosea noted,
“Who is wise? He will realize these things. Who is discerning? He will understand them. The ways of the LORD are right; the righteous walk in them, but the rebellious stumble in them." Hosea 14:8-9 NIV
The Word of God
In the 1970s I subscribed to a couple of rather liberal Christian magazines that frequently questioned the accuracy of the Bible, while focusing on topics such as world hunger and homosexuality. As a result, I began to doubt the accuracy of God’s Word, and shared my doubts with a roommate. He promptly scolded me. This caused me to feel emotionally distraught and I went into my room feeling I needed to hear from God. Grabbing a random book from the shelf I began to read. The very first words I saw were, “That’s my book! That’s my book!” I was stunned.
After collecting my thoughts, I looked for what led to those statements and found that the author was a popular Christian writer. Here he was describing his own doubts about scripture. One day, during a Bible Study, he silently confessed his doubts to God. Immediately, he heard a loud voice saying,
“That’s my book! That’s my book!” Looking around, he saw this had been spoken by a man in their small gathering who always stuttered, except when he was prophesying. After this, the writer said that he no longer doubted the inspiration of scripture.
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Incredibly, God now used that exact same prophetic message to also speak to me in my moment of doubt. So now, when I am asked about what I believe about the Bible, I simply reply, “It’s God’s book!”
Street witnessing
Another magazine I subscribed to in those days was Cornerstone magazine from Jesus People USA. JPUSA, or Jepusa as members call it. JPUSA was a Christian community that practiced street witnessing and wrote about it. It caused me to desire to witness, and now I felt that God was calling me to be more bold. I had begun pondering whether I should move to JPUSA. One evening at Galilee House Coffeehouse that feeling seemed to come to a head.
Leading up to that meeting, I had been praying that God would open doors for me to witness to others on the street. Now you need to understand that I tend to be introverted, and especially at that age I experienced daily panic attacks in social situations. Still, as you may recall, a similar encounter had been significant for me when a youth stopped me and gave me his testimony. I knew that I would probably never get involved on my own, so now, I began contemplating big change. I think it would be accurate to say that in those days, I was intent on finding the will of God almost to a fault, if that is possible.
On this particular evening, I told God that if no-one invited me to go street witnessing with them by closing time, I would take that as a sign that I should move to Chicago to join JPUSA. It should be noted that I had never been invited to go witnessing before, nor was I aware of anyone doing this in Rockford, so it seemed like I had already made the decision to move.
As the night wore on, I prayed fervently, because I think I really wasn’t excited about quitting my job and moving to Chicago. When the music ended, the audience went home. Still, no one approached me. So I hung around and cleaned tables.
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Then, I sat down and read my Bible. Finally, close to the time of locking the doors, Chuck Mueller approached and asked if I would be willing to organize a group of volunteers to do street ministry in Rockford! I accepted his offer in a most embarrassing fashion, with tears and emotion. He also said I was not the first person he asked, but others turned him down. He may have been taken aback by my emotional response, but Chuck and Sharon published a brief account of God's answer to my prayer in that month's newsletter. That short conversation became a major step in my spiritual journey.
Of course, I have absolutely no idea how God could have pulled this off. Certainly this must have required that Chuck was obedient to the leading of the Holy Spirit. What if he had not been willing to follow? Whenever I think about it, it leaves me with with more questions than answers.
The result is that during the next two years, I would lead a small group of four to six youth out into the streets of Rockford as we did our best to tell others about Jesus. During those outings, several people prayed to receive Christ, while many others let us pray with them for other things when we offered. We also led a few people with serious addictions or problems to enter Teen Challenge or JPUSA.
Yet in spite of some success, I felt this was a difficult calling. To approach strangers when one has not been invited and to communicate the gospel with love was daunting for me. I could tell this was not what I was gifted at, although others who went witnessing with us did seem somewhat more suited for the task.
Whenever we went out, rejection was common, and each time I would dread going out. In the end, however, the net result seemed beneficial for the Kingdom of God, and was certainly beneficial for my own spiritual growth.
A dream about JPUSA
About this time, I had a vivid dream that involved my sister Karen. My sister had been sharing an apartment with her 42
friend Laura, and Laura had become interested in moving to JPUSA. Karen had previously mentioned to me that she and LAURA were planning on visiting JPUSA, but I had totally forgotten this by the time of my dream.
On Saturday afternoon I took a nap and dreamed that Karen had moved to JPUSA, and that I had come to visit. As I pulled up in front of the building, Karen walked out. I noticed that she seemed unusually happy. Then I woke up to find myself repeating aloud the words, "Karen is moving to Jesus People.
Karen is moving to Jesus People.”
About the time I realized what I was saying, the phone rang and I picked up. It was Karen. She asked, "Guess what?"
Without even thinking I replied, "You're moving to Jesus People!" She let out a squeal and begged, "How could you possibly know that?" I told her about the dream I had just had.
Then she told me that she had prayed with counselors at the ministry and agreed with them that if God gave her a sign, she would move there. So, she considered my dream the sign she was looking for. She did indeed move in with them for three months, as did her friend Laura. She later told me that the dream was fulfilled, for during those months she felt unusually happy. Later she left, partly because she missed her boyfriend and future husband. But she always considered those three months in Chicago a special time of spiritual growth. I should also note that her husband Ed has also become a strong Christian, and also has many great testimonies to tell.
Protected in a car crash
Not long after this. I purchased a brand new Renault LeCar and owned it less than a year before a blizzard caused me to slide off a road and strike a tree. The accident was severe, and in fact, the car was virtually demolished.
The tree hit the passenger side of the car and the steering wheel wound up resting only an inch away from the tree trunk. I was thankful that no one was with me, for the passenger would 43
have been crushed. Afterward, a police officer insisted on calling an ambulance, given the severity of the crash.
But God had protected me. At the hospital they only found that about one square inch of my scalp looked as though it had been shaved with a razor. Otherwise, except for aches and pains, the ER staff could find nothing wrong.
Later that night I had a dream. In the dream I was driving that same car on the same road where I crashed on a sunny day.
Up ahead I saw the back of a man walking away from me on the left side of the road. He had long hair and was wearing what looked like a white bathrobe. I thought, “How embarrassing. Why would anyone wear a bathrobe in public out here in the middle of nowhere?” I began to wonder who he might be. At first I thought he must be homeless, but as I got closer I could see the robe looked too nice. So then I thought he must be a monk from some nearby monastery.
But as I came up behind him he suddenly turned around and looked directly at me. Instead of the face of a homeless person or religious monk, I was startled to see a face that radiated love, and was struck by the conviction that this person cared about me. I then woke up. Only then, when I was fully awake, I realized that this person walking along the side of the road must have been Jesus! To me, the significance of the dream was that Jesus was letting me know that he had protected me during the car crash. The simple fact that I did not recognize him until after I was able to wake up and process the clues convinced me that my brain had not concocted this dream, but rather it was from God.
I realize that my accident raises many questions. Why did God even allow such an accident to happen in the first place?
Sometimes, we are unable to find meaning in difficult circumstances, and I think we need to trust God, even when on the surface we don't understand, as suggested by these Bible verses in Isaiah. This passage doesn't answer all my questions, but we all know that some things are just too complicated for simple solutions:
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“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. (Is. 55:8-9, ESV)
Of course, I also think that in this case there were lessons I needed to learn. I tended to be a bit of a daredevil in those days, and I needed to learn was to drive more carefully. Another lesson was to not buy vehicles above my means. Even after the insurance payoff I still ended up making payments on that car for nearly two more years! I guess the lesson had an effect, because for almost forty years I never did buy another new car. Recently however, we did buy one with the prompting of a slightly miraculous message from God! But that is a story for a later chapter. •
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Girls
In the late 1970s, I played a flute-like instrument known as a recorder, and was in a music group known as “Bread of Life.”
We played in various venues around the area, which brought with it a lot of social interaction. I was still single in those days, and it was before I met Brenda. As a result, I was feeling a little depressed and lonely.
I prayed for a solution, and mentioned my condition to Cindy, my downstairs neighbor. Cindy was a Christian, married, and a singer in our music group. She suggested that I begin by giving my messy apartment a makeover, putting up curtains, and decorating. I accepted the challenge, and immediately devoted myself to doing everything she mentioned. In fact, I even used my newfound determination to make a variety of artwork by decoupaging inspirational magazine pictures on pieces of scrap wood, and hanging them on the walls. Then, with the addition of a few scented candles I found that the apartment did indeed become a more soothing and relaxing place, and my depression lifted.
I then allowed a Christian roommate to move in. Joe was also single, and he was the piano player in our group. One night, Joe was away at a church function, and I was feeling particularly lonely. So I prayed for a solution. God spoke to me through a scripture which said simply, “Let them marry whom they think best.” To me, this simple line of scripture from chapter 33 in the book of Numbers suggested that I should find a girl of my choosing and marry her. The advice was so simple and obvious that I found it to be stunning.
Soon my roommate arrived home and told me that he had met a girl that he was falling in love with, but he wanted a sign from God to know if he should ask her to marry him. I shared with him the verse that I had just found, and he claimed it as the sign he was looking for. A few months later I attended their 47
wedding. Meanwhile, my own search had been activated.
At the Overflowing Cup Christian Coffeehouse in Beloit, Wisconsin, I paid closer attention to the girls than I had in the past. And then, there she was. I thought I found the girl that seemed to be the perfect one for me. Instead of being pretentious like so many others, she seemed so down to earth that it took my breath away. Her name was Brenda, and I asked her out.
After she accepted the invitation, I stood on the front steps of the coffeehouse. It was then when I decided I would record this in my journal that I realized the date was 8/8/78, a date that we still celebrate as an anniversary. It was a date with three eights in it, and I had always associated the number eight with new beginnings. This date did indeed become a new beginning for both of us. It took us longer than my roommate, and it seemed like forever to me, but eventually we were married. Sometimes I refer to Brenda as my first wife or my last wife, but both are true for we are still married! :)
Buried in snow
The winter of '78 and '79 was brutal. During one terrible blizzard, I dropped Brenda off at her parents' house in the country. Conditions worsened rapidly as I headed for home. After going about a mile, I tried to make it past a tall drift and was blinded by blowing snow. The car veered into the drift and now I was stuck.
The only available option was now to walk back to Brenda’s house wearing only a light jacket. Soon I became cold and dizzy and wondered if I would make it. I still recall struggling with great effort to manage the last fifty yards or so.
Once inside, my future father-in-law sprang into action.
We hopped into his flatbed truck and took off. By the time we arrived at the car the snow drift had completely covered it to the point that even its shape was hidden. Only one corner of the rear bumper was visible. Even the heavy truck was not able to pull the car out from under all that snow. It was only by jerking repeatedly 48
on the chain that we managed to yank it out inch by inch.
In retrospect, I see evidence of God's protection in another dangerous situation. If I had driven farther before encountering the whiteout, I might not have made it back to the house. If we had delayed any longer, we would not have been able to find the car beneath all the snow. And if it had stayed in that drift, the car would probably have been badly damaged when the plows finally made it through. As it was, I was stranded for three days at the home of a girl I had fallen for, and I also missed work. In other words, the situation was not that bad!
These typical scene from the winter of ‘78 and ‘79 shows a road similar to the ones near Brenda’s house.
Music group
Brenda and I continued to date, and around this time a Bible study group that we were part of decided to begin singing in nursing homes. In an attempt to start it right I drafted several 49
pages of rules that I thought would help. Then, as I left the house to go to practice, in an amazing coincidence a guest on the christian radio station was discussing how to start a music ministry group! He argued that when starting a music group to minister one should not worry about being too professional, and specifically argued against long lists of rules. When he finished, I threw out the pages and proceeded to go to practice to relate the story.
We went on to sing in a number of nursing homes over the next year, all without the benefit of a list of rules. I still have a tape of one of our practice sessions, and we actually sounded pretty good!
Bible School
During these years, I was attending First Assembly of God church, in Rockford, Illinois. First Assembly's pastor was Eugene Whitcomb. He died, along with several members of our church, on September 11, 1974. They had flown in his small plane on a mission trip to an Indian reservation in South Dakota. On the return trip his small plane lost engine power and crashed in a wooded area.
Besides being an enthusiastic pastor with a great preaching style, it was Pastor Whitcomb who had invited Brian Ruud and Roxanne Brant to speak – both of whom had an impact on my faith. I felt devastated by his death.
Pastor Whitcomb also seriously connected with youth in our city who had been alienated by religion in general. These were the years when the Jesus Revolution was winding down, and in those days the front of our large sanctuary was lined with hippie-styled long-haired youth. Many were in worn-out blue jeans, and some were even barefoot or wearing sandals or halter tops. He welcomed them all with equal enthusiasm.
When Pastor Whitcomb died in the plane crash, Ernie Moen, his former college roommate came from Arizona for the funeral. He quickly won the hearts of the members with his 50
sincere and simple style, along with amazing wisdom. He was soon asked to be the next pastor at First Assembly.
Pastor Moen connected with Rockford in uniquely different ways than Pastor Whitcomb. Now, instead of radical youth lining the front, he would play a movie or host a special speaker and fill the church with visitors. Then he would give altar calls where often as many as 200 people in one service would line the altar for salvation. I had never seen such services before, and yet it happened on several occasions. Even Pastor Moen said tearfully that he had never seen God move like that before.
Today, we often cross paths with people who dedicated their lives to Christ during those services.
One while I was dating Brenda, we was attending a Sunday evening service at church. Pastor Moen was preaching.
During this service, I distinctly believed God was telling me I should prepare for some type of ministry. This caused me to begin to earnestly seek answers from God by reading the Word and praying hard. I recall asking him if he wanted me to be a pastor, and I felt I heard a clear answer, “Not exactly.” With that re-direction, I began praying about the possibility of going to school with the goal of entering full time ministry. And it seemed God was beating around the bush, and by the time I had prayed through, I heard him essentially say, “You are going to be a late bloomer.” I remember thinking, “What does this mean? Will I be really old, like 40, before I find a ministry?” This caused me some anxiety at first, and I wanted to know more, so I began to pray even more earnestly during the course of the next week.
The following Saturday we played mini-putt golf with friends. During the game I felt very distracted by a feeling that my future was hanging in the balance. I don't say this as an excuse, for I have no memory of how I scored. All I know is I wanted God to somehow give me a clue about what the next step in my future should be, and that is all I could think about.
The next day was Sunday. As God would arrange it, Pastor Moen talked extensively about Christian Life School of the Bible. It was the Bible college that the church was operating, and 51
I thought that I might sign up for it. Then he gave a type of altar call that I have never seen done elsewhere. He asked for anyone feeling that God might be calling them to go into full-time ministry to come to the altar and receive prayer. To me, this was obviously the sign I was seeking, so I jumped up and practically sprinted to the front.
As a result, I attended Bible school classes for the next three years and earned about one years worth of credits. They would eventually be recognized, but this was just another small step in an educational journey that would span decades. •
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In my Bible school classes, we had to memorize a number of scripture verses. One of them was this one: Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7, ESV).
This has become one of my favorite verses, but at the time, the implications of it had not yet sunk in. It seems God still had some life lessons for me. One of these lessons was to worry less and trust God more.
Stranded
Anxiety and worry can be an obsession, and sometimes our ways are not God’s ways. I suspect that if you beg God to eliminate a worry that has not even materialized yet, then too much praying can actually be a bad thing! This lesson became real to me on a Saturday in the summer of 1979 when Brenda and I were dating. We were spending the day together, and now we were riding on my Yamaha motorcycle over country roads to take her home.
The bike was generally reliable, but on this day the engine was sputtering, and it seemed the farther we rode the worse it got.
Finally it was barely able to go 25 mph. All along the way I prayed fervently that the engine would keep running. In fact, I thought that the more I begged God, the more likely it would be that he would intervene. That actually does sound Biblical, doesn't it? But it didn’t seem God was intervening.
And then, suddenly my fears were realized. There was a loud noise and the bike wouldn't go any farther. “Aha!” I said.
“the engine is shot.” But when I got off the bike I saw instead that 53
the chain had derailed. This was something I had not experienced before, and it was not even remotely related to the engine's problems. Without tools, it seemed hopeless, and here we were, stranded two miles from the nearest town in the days before cellphones. This new situation was even more worrisome than the sputtering engine.
It was then that a little miracle occurred. Within seconds of the breakdown another motorcycle came along. Incredibly, it was driven by a coworker from my department at the Woodward Governor Company! He offered to give Brenda a ride on his bike to a phone. He had obviously been drinking, so we hesitated, but we didn't have many options, so Brenda rode into town with him giving us both another worry to pray about. He took her to a bar where Brenda recalls feeling uncomfortable, but she was then able to call for help.
Later, with a new chain and spark plugs, the bike was good for many more miles. For me, the lesson I learned is that pleading incessantly with God to get him to fix the engine did not work, but he still took care of us. I actually suspect that if the chain had not derailed, the fouling plugs might have stranded us in a much worse place. Maybe when God saw my friend coming along he derailed the chain! So in a way my prayers were answered, just not in the way I would have preferred.
So now when I am worried, I try to approach the situation differently, praying a little but trusting God to do what is best and handle the outcome. You see, trust stops worry. Life is so much better that way, and I wonder if this simple truth is one key to experiencing God's provision.
Later, in the 1980s, Brenda and I moved north to Minnesota when I started school at North Central Bible College.
There is more about that in a later chapter. In Minneapolis, we came under the teaching of Pastor Tom Elie at Praise Assembly.
In that church Brenda and I felt unusually challenged to begin placing things in God's hands and letting go. The obvious benefit is that when you succeed in releasing a worry, you can step back and breathe easier. Even more importantly, the real bonus is that 54
God now accepts responsibility for your problems, and it seems he has all kinds of amazing solutions at his disposal! Certainly, this was one time when he answered a prayer of fear with a simple lesson about faith, and his ability to provide.
Obey your parents
I had fewer problems with that bike once hotter plugs were installed to eliminate the fouling. In the end, we rode it about 25,000 miles in a year's time before it finally bit the dust.
Along the way, the bike also yielded another experience that demonstrated God's intervention.
Darrell Morris was a Christian in my department who had become a good friend – and still is some forty years later. Darrell had purchased a motorcycle, but on an early outing lost control and slid into a curb. Since he was riding without a helmet, he was knocked unconscious, and wound up in the emergency room.
Afterward, his mother asked him to never ride again – a wish that Darrell admits he ignored in later years.
During one summer when he did not own a bike I was giving him rides to work on mine. One day, he got the urge to ride, and his license was still valid. So at his request I let him drive. After a few miles, we came to a major intersection where highways 251 and 173 cross in Machesny Park. As we entered the left turn lane I saw the longest oil slick I have ever seen. Darrell was concentrating on making the green arrow. I started to warn him, but it was too late. As he entered the turn and braked, the wheels slid out from under us. Now this could have been very serious. But in this case, the oil allowed us to slide on the seats of our pants into the middle of the intersection. The bike shot out ahead. Even with the oil, I have never been able to understand why we didn’t tumble with serious scrapes and injuries. It seemed like a miracle! In fact, we both got up unhurt and laughing.
The bike suffered a bent foot peg and damaged handle grip. Darrell's light colored corduroy jeans were seriously blackened. We were still able to ride the bike the rest of the way 55
to his house, and with a little work the bike proved good for many more miles, although I never did replace the handgrip. The engine finally quit when one of the hotter plugs burned a hole in the cylinder, just as all the cycle gurus at the bike stores had warned would happen if I kept using those hotter plugs!
If there is a lesson I learned from this it is that even when we do stupid things like letting someone else drive, or in Darrell's case, ignoring his mother's plea, God still loves us and is able to take care of us.
I have related this story because I believe that the hand of God was evident. That said, I don't really know why sometimes bad things happen in life, but I still have faith they are part of a plan that God has for each of us. I believe someday we will understand the bigger picture when our time on earth is up. Both Jesus and Paul compared our temporary troubles to labor pains.
Like labor pains, our troubles are small compared to amazing potential outcomes such as the birth of a new child, or eternal life with Christ.
I brake for squirrels
I have always said that motorcycles are dangerous, and most bike owners I know have gone down on pavement or gravel at least once. This became the main reason Brenda and I sold our bike around the time of the birth of our first child. We wanted to be around to see our children grow up. We also knew that bikes really aren't ideal for family outings. Unfortunately, before that day came, I had to experience yet one more accident – an accident in which I believe the hand of God was again evident.
The accident occurred after the first bike died. My brother-in-law kindly offered to loan me a replacement. One day, I used it to head north from Rockford on a hot day in the summer of 1980. The tar on Owen Center road was so hot that it was shiny. As I approached Highway 75 a squirrel crossed the road, and I braked hard. Immediately the bike went down. My helmet hit the pavement so hard that its foam padding left an indent on 56
the left side of my face, and also a rather intense headache. After the fall, the bike wouldn't start, and I walked about two miles to a farmhouse to call for help.
When I arrived, I called a who happens to share my first name. Terry Light, along with Darrell and myself were in a Bible study together at the time, and even today we share a lasting friendship that includes our wives. On this day, I called Terry for help because he owned a cargo van – a bright yellow one. When he arrived, we loaded up the bike. Since the bike belonged to my brother-in-law, we dropped it off at his house. My sister then insisted I spend the night in case I had a concussion, so I stayed.
Unfortunately, that is not the end of the story. That evening, Karen was reading a magazine article on the dangers of motorcycle riding. She then read aloud a statement that said that riders who owned bikes larger than 500 cc’s for less then six months were those most likely to have an accident. She said,
"That sounds just like Terry Light!" Terry had owned his Goldwing for only a short time.
At that exact moment, the phone rang. My sister answered it, and I heard her say, "You are kidding, I know you, and you are kidding!" It was Terry on the other end of the line, but he wasn't kidding. He was telling her he had just been on his bike, and a car had changed lanes into him, forcing him off the road, where he slid a distance along the curbing and into a light pole. He was now calling from the emergency room. The skin had been scraped off his forearm and leg. But Terry said that my accident had affected him, and this was the first time in a long time that he had worn a helmet. So on the same day, the two Terry's were in separate motorcycle accidents. The lesson for me was to not ride on hot tarry roads, and to not brake for squirrels. The lesson for Terry was to always wear a helmet.
Vega troubles
While we are on the subject of transportation, it would be good to also talk about how God provided for Brenda and myself 57
around the time we were married. Besides a motorcycle, our other form of transportation was less than ideal – it was a quirky green Chevy Vega. I bought the car for only 100 dollars because the frame was broken, and the bumper moved left and right when you turned the steering wheel. However, by bolting a steel plate across the frame, the car became usable.
Still, the gas gauge never worked, which caused us to constantly monitor how many miles we had driven on each tank.
Unfortunately, we often miscalculated. Incredibly, this resulted in a series of little miracles. By our count, five times in a row that the Vega ran out of gas we rolled right up to a gas pump before the car came to a stop!
Another story also involves the Vega. Sometimes God protects us even when we do stupid things. One of those stupid things I did involved this car. One day, the car didn't start because of a bad fuel pump. After carefully looking at a diagram of the car's layout in the owner's manual, I chiseled a large hole through the middle of the trunk floor, thinking the pump would be where it was in the drawing. Instead, I saw yet another layer of sheet metal. At this point, I began chiseling another circle through that layer. I had gone several inches before I smelled gas, and realized I was chiseling into the gas tank! By God's grace, it did not spark an explosion, and I am still alive. Shaken, I used a small mirror to scope around the hole I had cut. The pump was actually off to one side, unlike the diagram! Then, after sealing the gas tank with epoxy, I cut a hole in the correct place and replaced the pump.
Then after patching the trunk floor with sheet metal, the car was like new – well, almost. It was a close call, and I thank God for letting me live another day! •
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The bus flipped
When I first met Brenda, she was involved with a Campus Life group known as Stateline Youth for Christ. The group was led by Dick Myers. Dick was an energetic individual with a talent for organizing creative events to bring high school kids together in Christian settings. Every year, Dick would take a bus load of kids to Camp Forest Springs in Northern Wisconsin for several days of skiing, music, and special speakers.
On one such trip, Brenda and I were going as Campus Life staff. After packing the bus with sleeping bags and high school kids, we were ready to go. Dick led us in a prayer for safety and God's blessing. The bus then headed North. The trip was long, and we traveled almost the entire length of Wisconsin on the old Highway 51, passing through many miles of small towns on snowy roads to reach the camp. But soon a near disaster and a little miracle would become a memorable experience.
It happened after the week ended on the trip home. Gas stations were few. Eventually the bus driver slowed to turn in for gas. But what he thought was a right turn lane was actually just a ditch packed with snow that the plow blade had leveled. Under the weight of the bus, the snow collapsed and the bus turned onto its side.
Inside the bus, there was panic. Kids screamed and fell over to our side, burying Brenda and myself under others. When the panic subsided, we learned that the only injury was a girl's scraped thumb. Gradually, we made our way out the back emergency door. It was then that someone noted that unlike the trip north, we had not prayed for safety before the trip home!
Some reasoned that maybe God allowed this as a way of teaching us a small lesson, but we were also about to see a little miracle.
Here, in a remote section of highway in a forested area of northern Wisconsin, the bus flipped over directly in front of a 59
semi-truck towing service next door to the gas station! Within about ninety minutes, a huge tow truck had righted the bus and pulled it out of the ditch. Before we knew it, we were on our way home again, praising God for his provision!
Spiritual warfare
A short time after Brenda and I were married, we allowed several individuals to share our home who needed a place to stay.
One day, when Brenda and I returned from a shopping trip we heard loud talking that sounded heated and emotional. We found one of the young men in the attic of our two story home, working out with weights and wearing headphones. As we listened, we realized that all was not well. We could only hear his side, but it sounded like he was was loudly arguing with demonic beings who were trying to kill him! He sounded quite distressed as he begged them to go away and leave him alone. Brenda and I immediately backed down the stairwell and began to pray, literally dropping to our knees as we asked God to intervene.
This individual couldn't hear us because of the loud music in his headphones, not to mention we were on a lower level in the house. Yet we had only prayed a matter of seconds when suddenly, we heard him exclaim, “Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus!” Then, he came bounding down the attic stairs, ecstatic.
When he saw us, he said, “You'll never guess what happened! I was working out when these demons started attacking me. But then Jesus showed up in a long white robe and chased them all away!” We continue to remain good friends with this man and his wife today, and he has continued on in his walk with Christ and also has left some addictions behind.
Since this experience, I have also heard testimonies of other friends and relatives who have been attacked by dark shadowy demonic beings, which I suppose is what happened here.
So, while I have never been one to get worked up about the demonic realm, this experience convinced me it is real, as is the power that is unleashed when two or more people agree in prayer.
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This is the kind of power Jesus told us was available. In the end, the Bible teaches that in God's Kingdom there is deliverance available for any person trapped by demonic forces, and freedom comes through trusting in Jesus. I believe that when victory is finally realized, it generally comes through surrendering one's life to God's authority, and letting him deal with the powers of darkness. •
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I believe everyone should be in relationships where they can receive and give encouragement in their faith, and we all need to find a passionate church that can show people how to trust Jesus for salvation, as well as one that encourages our faith and moves us to love others. That is how I interpret this passage in Hebrews:
Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and …. let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. (Hebrews 10:22-25, NIV)
Life lessons
Brenda and I did not grow in faith and maturity overnight, and we still have a ways to go. Some maturity may simply come as time elapses with old age, but there have also been pastors and individuals who poured into our lives to build in us what God would want. I am going to mention a few names and places knowing that some of our friends and family share these memories, and can reminisce. I realize others may not know them, but I believe that those who pour into the lives of others are deserving of more honor and recognition than I can give here. In hindsight, I realize God was only able to work in us through these individuals because we stayed closely connected to the body of Christ. For us, that connection primarily took place with churches, but also with our small Bible study group, a derivative of which we still meet with to this day.
At First Assembly in Rockford, Illinois, Pastor Moen brought in staff who mentored us and changed our lives and marriage for the better. You see, as a young Christian, I had issues, and I think God had his hands full. Fortunately, we were going to the right church at the right time.
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One of the things I struggled with was stubbornness. I was admittedly “stiff-necked.” I knew this was the case, because God seemed to be repeatedly reminding me that this was true, and I came to know that the reason I was stiff-necked was because God was not able to lead me where he wanted due to my childhood dream of becoming a successful inventor. It was something he was going to have to work on through the decades, and change did not come easily.
But in these days there were also other issues. I feared the disapproval of others, was introverted, had trouble saying “no” to requests for time or money, and was prone to daily panic attacks in social situations. In fact, there was a verse I seemed to stumble across on almost a daily basis which was Isaiah 41:10: “Do not fear, for I am with you.” It was certainly something I needed to hear. I also wrestled with doubt as I drifted between skepticism and faith. It didn't help that I often read books and magazines written by skeptics who wrote about topics I was interested in, such as world hunger, politics, and science. On a lighter note, I won't talk about the lessons Brenda had to learn. If she wants to express that, she will have to write her own book. :) I have fond memories of the years we attended First Assembly in Rockford. Pastor Dale Crall led the College and Career class Brenda and I were attending. He was only a few years older than myself, yet he dealt with my skeptical nature effectively. We absolutely loved his testimonies telling how God had worked in his life. One of my main motivations for writing this book has been memories of the effect Dale's testimonies had on me.
Another pastor was my teacher for a Public Speaking class at the Bible school. David Ytterock challenged me to make my words have purpose. His comments painfully confirmed what I had been hearing from God about speaking useless words, and it is a lesson I have not forgotten as I attempt to minister to others by writing.
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About this time, Brenda and I were to be married, and Pastor Dan Wilderman counseled and married us. I still remember some of his advice. Much was practical, such as don’t blurt out every hurtful thing that pops into your head, and pitch in to help each other with chores. There was also spiritual advice. He told us that a husband and wife form a triangle with Jesus. As they draw closer to Jesus, they draw closer to each other. His advice must have worked. As I write this, Brenda and I have now been married more than 40 years.
In the months after we married, Brenda and I let a few individuals move into our house. One young woman had a problem with creating elaborate lies, and I was gullible enough to believe her some of the time. In fact, I could easily devote a chapter to the drama surrounding this girl, and her antics wound up making headlines in Rockford's newspaper at least twice. Yet I continued to let her stay in our home.
Change was coming. Pastor John Davis taught a counseling class that I took and also led a Sunday morning class we attended. One lesson he emphasized was the need for confronting others in love. His teaching led me to work up the nerve to kick this girl out of our home.
Others continued to live with us and out of that were born some great friendships, but things would change radically soon. A clean break with Rockford was in the works. God was getting ready to move us to Minnesota.
The seed for the move to Minneapolis was planted months earlier. On a Saturday night I was driving past Sinnissippi Park in Rockford when I noticed a broken sign lying on the road ahead.
As I passed over it I saw lone word "Alive" painted on it. At that exact moment the DJ on the radio said "alive." This grabbed my attention, and as I listened I realized the voice on the radio was promoting "Youth Alive," a ministry starting up at our church. I thought it strange, and I wondered if that meant God might be asking me to become involved with Youth Alive, but I recall thinking I would never volunteer.
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But God had other plans. The next morning at church, Brenda and I attended Pastor John's class. Immediately afterward, we were approached and asked if we would be willing to help out in the Youth Alive program! To Brenda's surprise, I agreed without hesitation, because God had literally given me a sign. :) Of course, I hadn't mentioned the sign to Brenda and didn't consult with her before answering the question. It was only natural she would protest, but after I explained she got on board and we began to help out with youth meetings, and they would lead us to the next step in our journey.
Minneapolis bound
In the Youth Alive program we were helping Pastor Jerry Greene, who was the youth pastor. Our involvement then led to even more evidence of God's plan for us. This sense that working with high school kids wasn't my strong suit just intensified the feeling for me that we needed to find where we really fit in. I also was working 50 to 55 hours per week, which, coupled with my inability to get a restful night's sleep, left me feeling like I needed a change.
One Wednesday afternoon I was working at my job when I began to consider the option of moving to another city to attend Bible college. North Central Bible College in Minneapolis came to mind, but I was also aware of other options in more distant cities. This wasn't the first time I had considered this, but now it came to a head.
Of course I don't necessarily think college is for everyone.
Nor can I say that it is for no one. God's plan for you is different than for me, so it is something one should pray about. On this day, that is precisely what I attempted to do. Before leaving work I asked God if he would give me a sign that very same day –
before bed – one way or the other.
I couldn't foresee it, but God was about to answer in what would seem to me to be an incredible way. Just a few hours later, at the Wednesday night Youth Alive meeting, Pastor Jerry Greene 66
asked Brenda and myself if we would be willing to chaperone a bus filled with youth on a trip to North Central Bible College!
Immediately I knew this was the sign I was looking for, and I said
“Yes!” Of course I didn’t consult with Brenda once again, and again I had to explain that I had asked God for a sign earlier that day.
During our visit to North Central, Brenda and I sat next to a couple, Bob and Faye, who were already students there.
Through their encouragement, Brenda's fears were allayed, and I became more certain of what I already thought I knew – that God was calling us there. When I returned to work I gave my employer notice that I would be leaving. As it turned out, I ended up working for Woodward Governor exactly ten years and two weeks.
Soon, Brenda and I put our house on the market. It would be months before it sold, which seemed distressing at the time.
Then we donated most of our things, and packed the remaining ones rather tightly into a Volkswagen bus. Finally, in early September of 1983 we moved to Minneapolis, feeling a little sad about leaving family and friends, but also excited about the future.
Miracle blanket
Minneapolis was unfamiliar. We felt both anxiety and awe when we arrived. After nearly a week of searching, we found one of the few apartments that would allow a dog – but we had to lower our standards. There was no working elevator, and it took three days to haul our things up to the third floor. Yet the rent was low and it was only a five minute walk to school allowing Brenda to use the car to find employment at a local McDonalds. So God seemed to be in it. Meanwhile, I focused on getting good grades, and we lived off my former job's retirement fund payout. And then we experienced a small miracle.
We had arrived just in time for a Minnesota cold snap, and it quickly became apparent that the apartment's heat wasn't 67
working. The building manager said the boiler needed repair, and it would be days before it was fixed. That night was so cold it seemed like pure torture. The next day, we decided to purchase an electric blanket.
Normally that would not have been a problem. After my classes, we headed to K-mart. The cheapest blanket cost a few dollars more than what we had on us, and our bank had already closed. In this age before debit cards, K-mart's service desk wouldn't approve our blank starter checks. Feeling desperate, Brenda and I returned to the blanket aisle. With nowhere else to turn, we decided to pray. We held hands and I whispered a prayer asking God to keep us warm.
Then we headed for the car. As we neared the exit we crossed paths with a man I recognized from five years earlier and 300 miles south. It was someone we had met when street witnessing in Illinois, and who had then attended Galilee House Coffeehouse. At one point we had given him a ride to check out a Christian drug treatment center in Chicago, which he then opted not to enter.
But now he had obviously been drinking, and he didn’t see me at first. I said, “Hi Don,” and got his attention. The instant he recognized me, he pulled a ten dollar bill from his pocket and tried to thrust it into my hand, all the while saying loudly and repeatedly, “Take this, I owe you!” We refused at first, but he was loudly persistent, and we finally accepted it. We thanked him profusely, and told him it was a huge answer to prayer, which I doubted he could fully appreciate. We then returned to the back of the store and picked up a twin-size electric blanket, which was enough to keep us warm for a couple nights until the building's boiler was repaired.
Jesus said that when two or more people agree in prayer, miracles happen. (Matthew 18:19). Yet as I remember this, it amazes me. Who would ever think that such an instant answer to prayer was even possible? Somehow, God must have planned ahead of time to put a man in our path we already knew in a strange city, and then motivate him to meet a need he didn't even 68
know existed. Is it any wonder that people in the Bible concluded that God was all-powerful? So in spite of our doubts, lack of understanding, and lack of faith – which Christians everywhere have to wrestle with – God was still able to act in amazing ways in response to prayer. •
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Three fires
One night around midnight, as we slept in our third floor apartment, we were awakened by sirens, spotlights, and a loud-speaker telling us to remain in the building. The street below was lined with fire trucks. Everything worked out okay, and we later learned that a cooking fire on the second floor had prompted the alarm. But that was just the first of three fires.
When I arrived at school, I learned that at about the same time as our fire, a fire had also occurred in the school's dormitory because a student left a hair dryer running. That fire also did not cause a lot of damage. And then, in the student assembly that day we learned that also during that same night there was yet another fire, and it was a big one. It caused the First Assembly of God church in Detroit to burn to the ground.
There were three fires in one night. What significance do I give this you might ask? On the surface it seems to be a strange coincidence, and I have trouble finding any deep meaning in it. I certainly don't believe God is in the business of starting fires just to create coincidences. But I do believe that God allows things to happen for reasons only he knows. I believe that coincidences can let Christians know that God loves us, is here with us, and they can even point us to where he is leading. They have done all of that for us in the past. So if I may speculate, possibly the only reason for such a coincidence was to increase the faith of the students at North Central Bible College, and the only reason for allowing the fire in my building might have been simply because he knew this story would someday wind up in a book!
By the end of that first year of college, our cash had dwindled. Brenda was working at McDonald’s, and I began looking for a job to get us through the summer. Answering ads and knocking on doors seemed to take forever. It eventually resulted in a job at a local machine shop. By summer's end they 71
offered to promote me to Production Engineer – but only if I promised to stay and not go back to school. With funds tight, it seemed the only real option anyway. So I continued to work at this company for the next four years.
It was a high stress job that demanded long hours but provided good income. We bought a house a block away, and Brenda switched to Taco Bell where she was promoted to Assistant Manager. And this was before kids. My sister called us a DINK couple – Double Income No Kids! Obviously, these were years of plenty. Yet all the while, I realized that I was tired and stressed, and never felt rested in the mornings. Usually, when I woke up, I would experience a deep sense of dread, until I consumed caffeine. Then, I would gradually feel better as the day wore on. I also would experience nervousness, frequent panic attacks, and an overall sense of tiredness. Then, by evening I would be wide awake, and ready to stay up all night. I was convinced I needed a miracle, and continued to pray for healing.
But it would be another decade before healing would come.
Lessons on I90
While we lived in Minneapolis, we would make trips on almost all holidays to the Illinois-Wisconsin state line to visit family and friends. Of course, these trips were often in winter. On one snowy return trip we were in heavy traffic and passed a stalled car with an elderly couple inside. A white handkerchief had been tied to the antenna. We concluded that they most likely had run out of gas, but in seconds we were already too far past to pull over. We talked about circling back, but it seemed the extra interstate miles would be difficult. So we continued on and prayed that someone else would help. I assumed that this was the end of that, but God had something else in mind.
About two hundred miles later as darkness fell, we also ran out of gas. After digging a gas can out of the trunk I stood beside the road and put out a thumb, hoping for a lift. But no one stopped. I finally got back in the car to stay warm, but even in the 72
Of course, it was difficult not to connect our own misfortune with the earlier decision not to return to help the elderly couple. As we sat there, I wondered aloud if we would spend the same amount of time in the cold waiting for help as they had! In all, it was about ninety minutes that we sat waiting, all the while staring at a road sign in front of the car that said,
“Black River Falls, 1/4 mile.”
The words became burned into my brain. We didn’t realize at the time how meaningful that sign would become.
Eventually a state trooper stopped and called for roadside assistance. Soon, we were back on the road, but that is not the end of the story.
On the same return leg of our next trip we came upon a car with a flat tire. We could see several people, including kids, around the car. Remembering our previous experience, I pulled in behind them to offer help. It was an older model car, and they were genuinely stranded for lack of a spare tire. Fortunately, I had a can of tire sealant which inflated their tire enough to drive on.
Then we prepared to follow them to a gas station.
After we got into the car we noticed the sight before us. It was hard to believe we hadn't seen it right away. This family had been staring at the same Black River Falls road sign that we had stared at when we were stranded. It was almost as if God was saying, "Yes, I gave you a second chance, and because of your obedience I am blessing you by letting you see my hand in this situation."
Still, I would not want to limit the scope of this little miracle to the world that Brenda and I share. Surely, this was also a miracle for the stranded family. At a moment of extreme stress, Brenda and I showed up to lend a helping hand, which was also likely an answer to a prayer that they prayed, and a lesson on God's faithfulness for them. I like to believe that God had purposes for all of us that were fulfilled by this simple act of obedience.
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Sometimes, when you don't pray about important decisions it leads to regret later. Shortly after Brenda and I arrived in Minneapolis we began attending a new church which was meeting in Elliott Park across from the Bible school. Marty Nagel was the pastor, and he was also starting a music group. Brenda and I attended a practice. I told them they needed a sound man, and they gave me the job. They named the group Innermission, and they embraced a jazz style of music. Over the next few years, we played a regular series of concerts around the greater Minneapolis-St. Paul area. The group had two great female lead singers, Dee Dee and Felicia, along with Mark on sax, Max on violin, Myron on bass, and Paul on drums. They all sang backup, and Marty played the electric piano. Brenda also attended all our weekly practices, and provided feedback and input. Our reputation spread, and we were being invited to progressively larger venues.
On one occasion we were the opening band at a large outdoor concert for the popular Christian group, The Imperials.
This caused us to ponder whether God was calling us to go full time on the road. I am ashamed to admit that without even asking God or Brenda, I took the position we were not interested in such a venture. The reality is that I was working long hours and felt burned out. In the decades since I have regretted not praying about it first. Who knows, maybe God would have had us make a huge lifestyle change and go into full time ministry! I still have a recording of an outdoor concert we shared with the group Messenger. Now I need to stop procrastinating, and get some copies to former band members.
I should also mention that one of our sons, Jonathan, followed in his dad’s footsteps. He now works full time as a sound man for Henderson Hills Baptist church in Oklahoma!
This dream is prophetic
In the summer of 1988, a planned vacation had us meeting friends from Illinois for a week of camping at Wisconsin Dells. In 74
Brenda at the wheel – eyes closed, and no hands!
the weeks before the trip, I built a pontoon boat out of plastic barrels and treated wood, and modified a utility trailer to haul it.
When we arrived at the Dells, it was unfinished and took half of our vacation just to get it into the water. I am sure the other campers appreciated the sound of power tools! The hard work ultimately paid off with a few boat trips. On one trip there were twelve of us on board – kids included – when waves from a passing tour boat swamped the deck. I prayed hard that the boats construction would hold, and thankfully it did.
The boat's big problem was that it had a used motor. After a few trips, the motor quit, stranding us a mile from home at midnight in a dense fog with one passenger experiencing flu symptoms. We ended up paddling all the way back to camp, and 75
felt fortunate just to find our dock in the fog. So a vacation that was supposed to be fun and relaxing ended up filled with hard work and danger.
Yet, in spite of the difficulties, I felt tremendous relief to be away from the stress of work. Brenda also felt relief, and longed to move closer to family and friends. So it was on this vacation that we made the decision to quit our jobs and move back to Illinois.
When vacation was over, we gave notice to our employers well in advance. I gave my company a year's notice, because I was involved in a costly automation design project, and wanted a smooth transition. But as the quit date neared it seemed I would not be able to leave because the project was far from complete. So Brenda and I began to pray that God would intervene. And then, about two weeks before my quit date, I had a vivid dream.
In the dream, I was driving our car with Brenda and some friends past houses. Out of a chimney of a two-story brick house came a snake made of smoke, which found its way through the rear window and bit me in the back of my neck. We then drove to the corner. After making a right turn, I was afraid that snakes might come out of other chimneys also, but somehow I knew that turning the corner meant this would never happen again. I then found myself saying with authority, "This dream is prophetic, and it will come to pass.” At that point, I awoke in pitch darkness in the middle of the night. I thought, "Wow – that's amazing. I've never had a dream like that. I'll have to remember it." But I promptly fell back to sleep.
As morning approached, I had the same exact dream all over again, with all the same details. And again, as I awoke I found myself saying, "This dream is prophetic, and it will come to pass." But this time, instead of darkness, I awoke in bright daylight and immediately realized I had had two identical dreams!
The dreams made quite an impression and I decided to spend a little time praying and reading my Bible before getting ready for work. As I opened my ASV study Bible, the first verse I saw was this one in Proverbs:
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“The north wind brings forth rain: so does a backbiting tongue an angry countenance.” (Proverbs 25:23) The verse was talking about gossip. It was easy to see that the backbiting snake could represent gossip. Like smoke, gossip is not a physical threat. With that, I could do little more than wonder if it might be fulfilled anytime soon, so I got ready for work.
I did not have to wait long. When I got to work, I was told that I had been fired. The timing was about two weeks before the quit date I had given. At home, we immediately rented a U-Haul and began packing. A day or so later I stopped by the shop and learned the owner had been told by employees that they believed I would not finish the job, but would move to Illinois on the quit date we had told him. I told him that this was not true. I intended all along to stay as long as it took to finish of the project, even though I knew this might mean staying more weeks or months in Minneapolis. He then offered my job back. But we were already half-packed, so I declined. In fact, getting fired was actually a blessing, for it allowed us to make the move without the entanglement of waiting for a break in work. So even though I felt emotional shock, the dream said to me that God cared about us and was directing our steps.
The move took two trips, and resulted in our being stranded in Wisconsin for three nightmarish days when the pontoon boat's trailer broke. The events might have seemed hilarious if they weren't so tragic. A blowout cracked a tire rim which turned out to be obsolete. This meant the axle had to be replaced, yet no new axles were short enough to fit between the boat's pontoons. In the end it took three days to modify a new axle and install it while we remained stranded. At the time, it was hard to see God's hand in any of this. One night as we worked late into the night we were in tears. Eventually we made it safely to Illinois, where we were welcomed to share a home with the two couples we had vacationed with.
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During the next 18 months, we could continue to live in this shared community. Our three couples would often attend the Open Door Mission in Rockford
onths there was also another twist. One Sunday, Hallie and his wife Tia brought her mother to church. Brenda and I recognized her because she lives across the street from my parents, about thirty miles south in Rockford, and she would sometimes pray with them. We also knew her casually from years earlier when we had attended the Open Door Mission in Rockford that her husband Rev. Robert Hanserd had run. Brenda /and I would meet friends at the mission, and then we would go out street witnessing. Rev. Hanserd had now passed away, but we were struck with how God sometimes lines up relationships to confirm that you are where you belong – at least that is how we felt about these things. I guess in God's eyes it is indeed a small world. •
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Divine appointment in Canada
When we first arrived in Rockford from Minneapolis, I looked for work and accepted a job at a large company. A year later when the economy declined a general layoff brought that to an end and I became serious about starting my own business. A friend put me in touch with a salesman named Dave who had ideas for building automated machines. He and I informally became business partners, although we never shared the same perspective regarding faith in God. I was clearly unequally yoked in this situation, as described by the following scripture verse:
“Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?” (2 Corinthians 6:14, NIV).
But still, the job provided a rather erratic source of income and some valuable job experience. One order we received was for creating a printing press attachment for a company in Ottawa that prints Canada's currency – British American Banknote. We proceeded to design and build the machine, and loaded it into Dave's pickup truck for the trip north. Upon arrival, it took more than a week to complete the installation.
During that time, I became casually acquainted with a woman who was literally printing hundred dollar bills on the press next to our machine. Her name was Barb, and she was about twenty years older than me.
When Sunday arrived I borrowed Dave’s truck and attended a church I picked out of a phone book. At first, the large church auditorium looked full. After looking around, I spotted two empty chairs near the front. One chair had a Bible on it, so I asked about the other one. Someone said it was vacant, so I sat 79
down. A few minutes later the Bible's owner returned, and I was amazed to see it was Barb. Here in a large church in the middle of a big city was a familiar face. It seems God had arranged for me to sit with one of the few people I knew in Canada!
After the service, Barb shared with me the difficulties she faced living with a husband who wouldn't attend church, and I shared the difficulties I faced working with a business partner who openly rejected God. Then we prayed together. I genuinely believe it was a God-orchestrated meeting.
Stranded in the cold
Once the installation of the machine was complete, Dave and I began the return trip home. We planned on driving non-stop through the night, and the road between Ottawa and Toronto was long, lined with snow, and desolate. To make matters worse, gas stations were few and far between. When the gauge reached a quarter tank we began looking for gas. It was well past midnight when the needle touched “Empty,” and we began imagining the worst. It was then we saw a sign for a town two miles off the highway. Exiting we found that the town was no more than a couple houses at an intersection. We turned right rather than head back, reasoning that we would be better off if we ran out of gas near a farmhouse than on the interstate.
Soon afterward, we did indeed run out of gas. It could have been tragic, as it was cold and dark, and we were in a remote area of Canada. But now there was a tiny miracle. As we rolled to a stop, we found we were directly in front of a small building with a sign declaring it was a Royal Canadian Mounted Police station.
The building was dark, so we pounded on the door. Soon an officer in his pajamas showed up. He made us wait in the cold while he put on a uniform. Then he took us to a truck stop. At the Truck stop, we filled a gas can and tried to hitch-hike back to Dave's truck with no luck.
It was then I noticed a problem. The cold had dropped my core body temperature to the point that I began having difficulty 80
walking and talking. Dave agreed that I could go inside to warm up, while he continued to look for a ride. Once inside, I sat at a counter and tried to order a hot beverage. The waitress heard my slurred speech and accused me of being drunk. I tried to tell her I was just cold, but she refused to have anything to do with me.
Fortunately, after a while Dave came back. He had found a willing trucker, and before long we were back on the road.
In spite of our mistakes God protected us, and I became wiser about filling gas tanks more often when driving in desolate areas. Brenda and I now look for gas when the needle drops to half a tank! I also gained a new appreciation for how easy it is to misjudge others. I had just experienced what it feels like to be ostracized based on appearance, and it is a lesson I try not to forget when meeting those the world has judged to fall short of its standards. •
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A call to write
When I was young I was always fascinated with recording things on paper, but I never dreamed of being a writer.
Homework always seemed tedious. My writing assignments always seemed to do well, and I think a sense of pride partly fueled writing as a hobby. Still, engineering remained my number one passion.
This began to change, however, as I grew older. I began to sense a desire to influence others and my passion for writing grew. In the 1970s, I wrote an article and submitted it to the Overflowing Cup Christian Coffeehouse in Beloit, which they then published in their monthly newsletter. The article received good feedback, and Dave Fogderud asked if I could write more.
Still, my long work hours and poor sleep left me feeling so burned out that I am ashamed to say I declined. It seems God had other plans, for me but about a decade would pass before I would take the next step.
After five years in Minneapolis we returned to Illinois. In our new church, one church service in particular was especially meaningful. A visiting evangelist was speaking to a full house about the importance of every Christian finding a ministry that God was calling them to. He stressed that most Christians are not called to preach, but that God has a plan for each and every person. As he spoke, I silently asked God, “What ministry do you have for me – do you want me to write?" At that instant, the evangelist looked directly at me and said, "God is calling some of you to be writers!" He then looked around the room and named other professions such as doctors and lawyers in a similar fashion.
But now God had my attention. I was startled! It was as if God himself had answered my question saying, “I want you to write!”
So this began a process in which I began to wrestle with all of my excuses for not pursuing writing, which primarily centered around my dream of being an engineer. Yet writing did 83
seem to be in sync with what I had been hearing from God through the years. I had always logged musings, events, and ideas in journals, as well as poems and theories about many things. The stack of journals had grown. So now it seemed logical that God would clarify my calling, telling me to focus on writing.
But before I could pour myself into writing I needed to earn a living. Brenda and I also needed to experience other aspects of God's plan for us. So writing had to wait. For three years I was self-employed designing automated machines. For our family these were times of feast and famine. Large checks were usually followed by long periods without pay, and the more routine computer services I was providing weren't bringing in enough to pay bills during lean times.
In hindsight, I was not in the center of God's will when I ignored the obvious need to get a job as I pursued the dream of self-employment, and if I had it to do over again common sense would suggest I develop my dream on the side. At some point, my partner accepted a real job and I worked on my own for awhile.
Then, eventually, Brenda and I agreed it was time for me also to find a real job, so I launched a job search.
Miracle job search
One day, in order to obtain a list of prospective employers, I went to the library and looked up businesses in the local Chamber of Commerce directory. There were hundreds to choose from. Most of which had nothing to do with my experience. After writing down addresses of a few large companies that seemed like possibilities, I decided to give God a chance by picking two more at random. I was pleasantly surprised that both of the random picks were machine shops, and I was even more surprised that one of them already knew me, because I and my partner Dave had done design work for them in the past, and they also made parts for me when I was on my own. More specifically, the two companies were United Tool, and Blackhawk Machine. It was Blackhawk that already knew me.
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I didn't have much faith in random picks, so at first I applied at the bigger companies. But the economy was slow, and none offered me an interview. Finally, I had only the two random picks left, and both of them gave me interviews! And then, a second little miracle – Blackhawk offered me a job! Since then, I have told this story a number of times to Sunday school classes as a testimony of God's guidance and provision. What seemed random at the time was apparently not random from God's perspective. But that is not the end of the story.
After beginning work at Blackhawk, they allowed me to continue work on a design for the machine that my partner and I had started before he left. And then, in addition, I designed a machine similar to the one Dave and I had installed in Canada. So for awhile the work was both interesting and stressful, until eventually the market for tractor-feed paper products dwindled, and the machines became obsolete.
The Blackhawk Collator and Continuous Forms Attachment, or CFA, as they appear in a sales video that was shown at trade shows.
When this book was almost complete the story developed another little miracle twist. About 14 years after I started at Blackhawk, a father and son team who worked for my first 85
random pick started their own company on the side and called it Seraph Industries. They used United Tool's facilities to begin making pellet stoves for homes, then expanded to build bigger machines that make the pellets. And then, about nine years later, Seraph bought Blackhawk because they had been hiring us to machine many of their parts. So while I continued to work for Blackhawk in the same building, I then reported to people who have a close association with United Tool, but operate their own company under the name Seraph Industries – a name which was not even in existence when I applied at United. In other words, in a way, I ended up working for both random picks as part of God's plan for my life! It seems that sometimes God has amazing ways of letting us know that he is the master planner, and that he is even in control of the tiny details!
Roof on the lawn
Years earlier, when I first began working for Blackhawk, Brenda and I bought a house from my father. It was the house I grew up in from the fifth grade onward. One Saturday was quite windy, and my dad was visiting. We were talking about home remodeling, and my dad said, “You know, one of these days you are going to have to replace this leaky roof.” I started to agree with him, but even before the words left my mouth a loud roar interrupted our conversation. Behind where I was standing, the stovepipe shot up through the ceiling, leaving a gaping hole with blue sky above it. We ran outside and found the pipe and roofing from the back two-thirds of the house had blown over the house and landed on the front lawn. It was a real mess.
In the end, insurance bought a professionally installed new roof for the flatter back two-thirds of the house. I still wound up shingling the front one-third myself, but friends from church came out, and together we completed it on a Saturday morning.
At the time of this revision, my dad has passed away, but even when he was in his 90s he still remembered this story fondly. That roof worked great for the next twenty years, and then 86
was destroyed in another amazing twist when trees fell on it a day after we moved out – but more about that later.
Nostradamus
Through these years, I did not forget that God had called me to write. But in order to write one must choose a topic. The early years of writing were quite exploratory, and included experimentation with various topics. All along I felt inexperienced and out of my league. Continuing to keep a journal helped. It is something I had been doing for decades, but now I became more consistent.
About this time, I developed an interest in Nostradamus, the French astrologer. Thus was the beginnings of a book that I thought was a Christian perspective of the writings of Nostradamus. Gradually, I accumulated enough material to put into book form, and the book grew to about thirteen chapters.
Now I can just hear some of you mumbling, so let me assure you that I am not particularly proud of this excursion into the occult. However, I rationalized that because Nostradamus claimed allegiance to Christ I could do this with a clear conscience. I actually think that God was letting me try out my new directive in a virtual sandbox where I was free to make mistakes, before kicking me out into the real world.
After three years of hard work on the book, I carefully printed the best chapters and submitted them to seven publishing houses. Gradually, one by one, I received rejections. After six rejections, only one response had not been received.
It was only then, on a Saturday morning, that I thought I heard clearly from God that I was not supposed to publish the book. Over and over again, with much prayer during the next hours it seemed I had confirmations that God was telling me not to publish the book. I even thought I heard Scooby Doo during Saturday morning cartoons seem to say, “Don't publish that book!”
Finally, feeling somewhat defeated, I approached Brenda 87
and told her the news. Her response was, “How can you think of giving up on this when you have invested so much time and effort?” But I was so confident that it was God speaking to me that I made a deal with her. I said that if she could pick a random verse out of any Bible in the house that had nothing to do with the evils of astrology, I would go ahead and publish the book. She seemed to think such a deal was good, since there are only a couple verses in the Bible that even deal with astrology. So she quickly grabbed a Bible and opened it. Then, putting her finger down she began to read aloud. After about two words she looked up in disbelief and said simply, "You're not supposed to publish the book."
A few minutes later I went out to the mailbox. In it was a letter from the seventh publisher, saying that they would like to publish the book if I was willing to put in some hard work. It was with some sadness that I responded saying I no longer wanted to publish it. Since then, I have not stopped writing, and have gone on to self-publish several other books on topics which are far less controversial from a Christian perspective, of which this is the fourth. I also became a ghost writer for an evangelist, and edited and published a book for a Baptist pastor. With the Nostradamus book, God allowed me to learn important lessons over the span of several years. And then, in the final moments on a Saturday, only minutes before receiving approval from a publisher, God pulled the plug. In the midst of great disappointment, we were in awe of his split-second timing. •
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