1978 was the approximate year when my mother, raising three children, was married to her
second husband; we lived in South Milwaukee. While dates and numbers are more atmospheric and less concrete, I would judge
my age to be about four, the youngest of the three children. My birth father was nomadic and therefore
unreliable, thus part of the catalyst for my mother’s second marriage. This second husband, a year or so later, decided
that life must have felt too difficult to burden by himself and that he had no counsel so, in an argument with my mother,
shown his only way out. I can recall us three siblings being held out on the sidewalks by my mother’s
friend and what I thought was the sound of a vase breaking or a firecracker popping. And yet, it was neither
one of those. That day was the last I had seen him.
1980 was the approximate year when my mother was married to her third husband, and I was nearing my sixth birthday
when we moved into our country home of thirteen acres. It would be home to me for the next eighteen years
and this new husband would hold the title of daddy for me. Its stability was a welcome one; the one or
two years that passed between her second and third husbands were extremely trying for my mom, or at least I can imagine.
How did a widowed single mother juggle children and working? What kind of nights did she have as we slept and as she
thought about making payments for everyday necessities? Stresses similar to these must have still haunted
my mom, and her common crutch was found in alcohol. Years into our stable new home started to unsettle
and unravel. The high tension my mom got accustomed to in her prior marriages was carried over into this
new one. This haunting was to be our family tradition for the next decade with sporadic bouts ending and beginning in unknown
durations.
My
father, really, my mom’s third husband, was a quiet and patient man, very rarely argumentative. Having
had his law degree, he greatly encouraged reading, listening to classical music, and scholastic pursuits. As
such, I tended to absorb literature, children’s encyclopedias, and science books, and, of course, as many young boys
are, was enthralled by dinosaurs. My father and my science book/encyclopedia reading became pivotal for my upbringing: my
father brought in no form of theism, no form of atheism, and no form of agnosticism. My knowledge of just
the word ‘god’ was acquired from playgrounds in the form of expletives, from friends who mentioned glibly they
went to church, and from television shows or movies, which typically mocked God. Perhaps when I mention that my dad brought
in no form of atheism I am intent on saying that he did not outright speak contrary to any type of theism, but which in itself,
the act itself, was atheistic. To compound that, comforting myself with science books and encyclopedias
proved to support an atheistic viewpoint and all the ‘church-going’ friends I had sure exampled more disbelief
than true belief.
1993
was the year of my confirmation. The confirmation setting was typical, sure to be found in any traditional
establishment in all states in the country. I was one amongst perhaps thirty others, all of whom were set
in rows, listening to our elder. While he allowed free discussions, his topics and questions were well
guided, always keeping our belief on track. It was in that class where I privately confirmed my atheism
– it was a philosophy class at a University of Wisconsin college and I was a proud freshman.
After needing some years off from schooling, I eventually returned and befriended several ‘Christians’.
What disarmed me towards them was their youth, their alternative fashion sense, their interests, and their demeanor
towards me. They seemed to defy the stereotyped, typecast image I had of Christians: they were not loners,
not geeks, not social outcasts, not judgingly condescending, but were actually quite the contrary. In addition,
they actually held a confidence in their belief and their actions also supported their open announcement of their faith.
Hypocrisy was not a title they wore with their faith; contention and aggressive proselytizing was not their course
– soapboxing was not arsenal to be used.
It would be almost three more years of friendship with these believers, all of whom were not acquainted with each other.
This time it would be another science book that would prove to be pivotal yet again to my belief system.
Logic and deduction were some attributes of mine that enabled me to perform well in four years of Honors Math classes
in high school; deconstructing texts was also one that enabled me to excel in my Honors English Comp course in college.
Inquiry in all details and avoidance of biased scholarship was something that grew from my education. So,
when I came across a book on creationism self-stating it to be a valid science, I decided that maintaining a closed prejudice
for evolution was contrary to what I pretended to practice, which is complete inquiry over all data. I
figured using philosophical and textual deduction would disprove anything should there be data to disprove.
This was the beginning of my denouncement of evolution.
After further reading into other texts on creationism, philosophy, and quantum physics, all written from a Christian
viewpoint, I realized how scientifically sound Biblical accounts were. Thus, I started attending a small
chapel in Oconomowoc and a small group Bible study. Beyond the scientific and historical validity of Scripture,
through textual deconstruction, I found the literary validity of Scripture; that God has inspired Scripture can easily be
supported by the interwoven literary devices embedded throughout. I became a convinced believer that a man named Jesus Christ,
simultaneously being fully God, was made to be sin so that judgment and death would befall Him…….. rather than
me. I also became convinced that scientific support for Biblical accounts could only provide enough sustenance;
God asks for faith in Him. Obtaining that complete faith in Him is what solidified my relationship with
Christ.
Seven
years later, in my work mailbox, I received a personal letter. It was nearing Christmas break causing me
to momentarily think it was a work Christmas card. However, it was a card from a family whose name I did
not recognize. A recent picture of me in an alumni article had brought them back memories of when I lived in South Milwaukee
in 1978 and this family was my neighbor at that time. Inside was a picture of me when I was four, which unnerved me some causing
my hands to tremble. In addition, they wrote and asked about my siblings and my mother and made mention
that on occasion, they had volunteered to provide help for my mother by watching after us so she could run errands or just
get some rest. They took it upon themselves to take us three children to their church on Sundays and, after
we had moved away, kept a picture of me underneath the glass that protected their dresser. Knowing my troubled home, they
prayed for me, for my safety and protection – little did they know that not only would I be okay, but that I would also
be a believer in Christ. What is truly remarkable is that they prayed for me for 28 years without ceasing
before realizing I was in the area and reachable.
God answered their prayers – all the while waiting patiently for me to recognize Him. God
provided for me, lifted me out of difficulty, enabled me, guided me, and protected me, even though I chose evolutionism and
atheism as my faith systems throughout my childhood and early adulthood. Even while I was steeped in a
secular life, He continued to love me as a father loves his child. As my first two fathers failed me, my Heavenly Father followed
me.
Genesis 28:15-16
And behold, I am with thee, and
will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee, until
I have done that which I have spoken to thee of. And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and he said, Surely
the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not.