When I was 3 or 4 years old, my mother took me one evening to a church a couple of blocks from our house. During the service the song, "Jesus Loves Me" was sung. It was the first time I heard it. i felt the presence of Jesus very strongly. The memory of that song stayed with me during all my growing up years.
Several years later, we had moved across town to a new house, and one Sunday I rode my bike some blocks away to a local church. At the Sunday School service, there were two other boys, me & the teacher. The teacher began, but suddenly the other boys began to play with each other, sort of rough-housing & did not pay any attention to the teacher. He did not know how to take charge & make them stop & pay attention, so he tried to tell them about Jesus. Again, the presence of Jesus became strong to me, because the teacher seemed to speak about Jesus as if he knew Him personally. I so wanted those two other kids to stop messing around so I could hear about Jesus, but they didnt stop & the teacher didn't know how to make them stop, so he dismissed the class. I was so disapointed because I wanted so much to hear about Jesus. As I pedalled my bike home, I was so sad that I cried some. The memory of that still makes me sad to the point of tears.
During my high school years, I attended a local Methodist church, participating in various activities in addition to Bible studies held by one of the pastors & of course the worship services. I also sang in the choir & also sometimes played the piano for them. I don't remember anything being said about Jesus at all during those 3 years, let alone the Father & the Holy Spirit. I didn't know there was a "Gospel."
In college, I was part of the Methodist Wesley Fellowship for four years. I participated fully in it, but again there was no real discussion about God & I was basically an unbeliever. One evening, a philosophy professor (he was teaching a course in Metaphysics that I was taking) gave a talk about Jesus. When it was over, I didn't remember anything he said. The Bible was a closed book to me at the time.
One evening, near the end of my time there, a female student asked the director this question, "Can you know God?" I said to myself, "Yes, that's a good question!" But the director just looked at her, then heavenward. then back at her & replied "No, you cannot know God - the finite cannot encompass the infinite" - & that was that about God. I got so mad at his answer that I felt like smashing some of the vacant chairs around! I felt that, being the director, he should know. I was so angry at the director's answer that I thought, if you can't know God, that means He did not care. Later, I thought - "If there was a God, He'd have to care!" So I concluded that there could not be a God, & I became an atheist.
While I was an atheist, I searched for truth, but I could not find it because it did not seem anywhere to be found. After ten years I read a book by a Jewish Rabbi, "Peace of Mind." This book mentioned God, so I was led back to Him & prayed one night, "If You are real, then please have mercy on me - for I have ruined my life." He answered me & directed me to His Son. As I began to read the Bible for the first time in my life, I was born-again by His grace on the weekend of my 34th birthday, July 27, 1969. I was so amazed how my viewpoint immediately became radically changed (2 Cor. 5:17).
PRAISE HIS HOLY NAME!!!