Pre-Christian Me

One day, a very long time ago, I decided to go to Sunday school. I really didn’t care about Sunday school, or even church. I went because of a girl. But she wasn’t there! There was, however, a teacher who told us the gospel. That was the first and last time I ever saw that teacher. Even though my parents would take me to church, this was the first time I really heard the gospel.

My family moved to Louisiana, in the New Orleans area, for my high school years. It was a weird time in a weird city.  One area high school had witchcraft as a credit class.  The French Quarters at the time had small ma and pa Voodoo shops. I took a date to a haunted house just to check it out. It was a spooky place known to those in high school. I saw and heard about strange spiritual things.

My high school had a Youth for Christ ministry.  One of my fellow students was a “Jesus freak”, telling me all about Jesus.

To fit in with the Youth For Christ crowd, I decided to pass out tracts. But I was a chicken. So I passed them out at the youth group at church. I thought it would be safe to pass out Christian tracts at a Christian church. I was very wrong. I got in trouble for passing out “religious stuff” at church. Yet it was agreed between some of the teenagers and at least one or two adults that the people wearing robes in the French Quarters, with their heads shaved except for a long pony tail, were in fact “Jesus in these people”. But to me, that just didn’t seem right. (Luke 17:23-24)

During my time in Alaska stationed onboard a Coast Guard ship, I pretty much forgot about the Lord. When I came to Seattle I saw the “I Found It” billboards for Campus Crusade for Christ (now Cru). I knew I had to call. In response, a man came to the base that same evening to explain about finding Jesus. That night, I surrendered my life to Jesus. Soon after I met Karen, my future wife, and we began attending a Bible study and learning about spiritual warfare.  Because of my experience in New Orleans, it made sense.  I was also learning about the power of prayer.

A few months after surrendering my life to Jesus, missionaries came to speak at Interbay Covenant Church. One of them was a man name Earl Johnson from Nookta Mission on Vancouver Island. I decided to become a short term missionary on Vancouver Island. Along with maintenance and painting, cutting grass, chopping wood and such, I started seriously reading God’s Word.

At the Nookta Mission, I learned more about spiritual warfare. I heard of Earl Johnson casting out a demon in Jesus’ name.  While in a very remote area, another guy and I saw a truck held fast by an unseen force. After talking about it, we begin to wonder if it was a demon holding the truck. We decided to pray in Jesus’ name and tell the demon (if there was was one there) to leave. The truck instantly was freed.

Another time, I walked into the camp’s kitchen and saw a lot of people who seemed very thankful and yet a little worried. I asked what was going on. The gist of it was that someone from the camp was driving 20 miles or so to Gold River. On the way something unseen was hitting the side of the SUV, trying to knock it off the road. The people in the kitchen were praying for the driver. They told me that because of the errand he was on, Satan was trying to stop him. Satan failed. Jesus won.

I have learned that no matter how powerful Satan is, our Lord Jesus is way more powerful. It’s like a small two-year old trying to beat up a full grown grizzly bear. There is no match. Jesus is Lord and God.

Now, almost 50 years later, I believe time is running out. We are so focused on our lives. And rightfully so. We have bills to pays, health problems and other things. But sadly, we are forgetting our Lord. Some of us might not be ready when Jesus takes us away, like the foolish bridesmaids in Jesus’ parable in Matthew 25:1-13.

I know some of you might not believe what I wrote. But some of you might.