My Story
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A few months after I was born, my father baptized me as a Roman Catholic with a few drops of water on my small head as he held me in one arm. Present were my parents, grandparents, and the local priest who had finally yielded to my father's firm requests that he be the one to perform the baptism. It was a small ceremony held at my parents' home in a suburb of Montreal, in Quebec, Canada.
32 years later, I am now living almost 2000 miles away in the the State of Texas. But that is only a small change in my life as compared to the many other changes that have happened during these 32 years.
Shortly after my birth, my mother, who is asthmatic, came close to death, from an asthma attack that was caused by the mold in the humid air of Quebec. She would very often be rushed to the emergency room, and finally a doctor told them "The only way your wife will get better is if she lives in a dry climate. She will never get better here." The next day, after talking with my mother, my father made the decision that they needed to sell their house and move to Arizona, which they had heard was very dry. They placed the sale of the house in the hands of friends, bought a used travel trailer and hooked it behind their station wagon, and father, mother, and baby started the long drive from Quebec to Arizona. That day was to be the beginning of a totally new life, with changes awaiting them which they could never have imagined when they left Canada.
On the road to a new life - September 1975
Both of my parents were Roman Catholic, and their families had been as well, as far back as we can trace. They were both not very practicing Catholics, and even though my mother's elementary and secondary schooling had been at a girl's school taught by nuns, she had been taught, both at school and church, that it was dangerous thing to open a Bible. In those years in Quebec, the people were told that if they attempted to read the Bible, they were putting themselves in a dangerous position to become very confused, and that they could endanger their souls. So she had never once dared opened a Bible, even though she would see them sometimes and wondered what could be so dangerous about the book.
My father had emigrated to Canada from France, in search of adventure. Having lived though the ravages and bombings of WWII as a young child and the reconstruction of France in his youth, he was not afraid to undertake the unknown challenges that waited for them on their search for a new home in the United States. Their travels eventually led them to the State of Colorado, where they found a happy medium between the humidity of Quebec and the heat of Arizona. Almost immediately my mother's health improved drastically. That is where, as a child, I grew up, and where my sister was born. We lived far out in the country in southern Colorado, a far cry from where my parents had lived in Montreal. I grew up around goats, chickens, and ducks, learning the deep lessons that only nature can teach. They were often wonderful lessons, like that of a new kid goat being born into the world, or of little chicks running under their mother's wings for safety. For the next 12 years my sister and I grew up in this rich environment of nature, although it also the years that my family lived on the lowest income in our lives, often on little more than $4000 a year. Some may think that impossible, or that we were dirt poor; but we lived very happily and enjoyed wonderful health, our own house (which was an old school building that my father had converted into a house), and a yearly garden and small orchard that provided us with a good portion of the food we ate.
It was while we were living here, that one day my father drove back from errands at the nearest town with a very interested look on his face, and holding a colorful flyer in his hand. He told my mother that they had received this invitation through the mail, announcing an upcoming seminar which would be explaining the prophecies in the Bible, particularly those from the book of Revelation.
This infuriated my mother, for when she left Quebec she also hoped to leave religion behind. She resented the Church, and although she believed there was a God, she also did not want anything to do with a church. She asked my father, "Are these meetings associated with a church?" to which my father replied that, there was nothing indicating that they were. My mother was not convinced, but since my father showed so much interest in them, she finally agreed that he would go, and then tell her what they were about.
With each meeting that my father attended, he became more excited with the things he was learning, and this angered my mother, because she thought for sure he would shortly have stopped attending after one or two times. My father also shared with my mother what he was learning, until one day in utter frustration she cried, "Stop! I don't want to hear any more of this!" So even though my father kept attending, he had to keep it to himself what he learned. This situation escalated to the point where my mother was thinking my father had become possessed with whatever he was being taught, and she thought she might have to get a divorce. Finally she said to him, "I don't want you to tell me about how excited you are with what you are learning, but I don't want our family to become divided. Let's sit down and please SLOWLY explain to me the things they are teaching." So they sat down and finally, after so many years, the Bible was opened to my mother for the first time.
A few months later, my father was baptized, and shortly after that, so was my mother, having received and accepted the wonderful light that flooded their understanding. While we were yet quite young, my sister and I were blessed by having had the Lord lead our parents to a knowledge of His Word and the Gospel. This was the most important part that made the following years a blessing for the family.
At the age of 17 I was baptized, and a couple years after that one of the biggest decisions to make presented itself to me. I had been attending college for 2 years and was doing very well, with a clear goal of finishing within another couple years. My resolution was firm. Then the offer was presented to me. There was to be a missionary school to be held for 2 years, and it was scheduled to start within 4 months. My local church encouraged me to seriously consider this, and they were ready to recommend me to the school. For the next couple months, I struggled inwardly very much. There was much prayer, as I shared with the Lord my goals, and yet considered also this opportunity that was being presented to me. I attempted to reason that I could always finish my degree, and then go to the missionary school, but I also realized that it would not be so easy then, as I would possibly have loans to pay and a great desire to work in my new profession. To make it even more difficult, I was just awarded a substantial scholarship to pay for an entire semester, and people around me warned me, that if I stopped college now, I may never finish. As I searched His Word to know what God wanted me to do, I was convicted through His Word and His provisions that He wanted me to go. And I remember that day, when I went to the college to decline the scholarship, explaining why and what I had chosen to do instead. The faculty at the college may not have understood the reasoning, but it was clear in my mind.
The next 2 years were much more of a blessing than I had even imagined they would be, as I learned how to present God's Word, how to share it through colporteur work, bible studies, and health work. It certainly was not easy, but that was what I needed because it meant I had a lot to learn!
11 years later, I am now married and we have a baby daughter who was born in 2004. We live in Texas, where I work as a software engineer, and my wife is a stay-at-home mother raising our daughter. As I grow older, I realize more and more how the Lord is working in my life, in different ways, to guide me in the narrow way. Also now that I am a father myself, with a child of my own, I can understand a bit better how my own father wanted to be involved in a very personal way in my baptism (even though it wasn't exactly appropriate that he baptize me!). Also, I am coming to desire more and more the simplicity of life that my parents, sister, and I had in Southern Colorado during my childhood, and I hear the Lord calling me and my own family into a similarly simple lifestyle, depending entirely on the mercy and love of God to provide for all we need.
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A perfect family was not what I grew up in for sure. There are many things that happened which I have not taken the time to write much about here, such as the fact, that my father left the faith when I was still young, and the difficulties this presented to my mother as she had to become the spiritual leader in our home for my sister and I. Truly I can understand the truth in the statement, "The mother who trains her children for Christ is as truly working for God as is the minister in the pulpit." Without her I would not most likely be in the faith today, and who knows where I would be. And although my father left the faith, he was a wonderful teacher who taught me many lessons in order to be successful in life, and for that I am very grateful for.
As my wife and I have our own family and learn the lessons of parenthood, I hope that I will remember and utilize the lessons I have learned from my parents, as well as the mistakes they made, and especially no matter what, to look to Christ who is willing to give wisdom no matter what.
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