My 1 Story

I was born to a 15 year old girl in 1964. As she was too young to take care of me I lived with my grandmother until I was 4 years old when she was hospitalized for the long term effects of diabetes and eventually died. I went to live with one of my biological mother’s sisters along with her husband and two children (both older). I was never adopted officially because my dad didn’t feel like my mom let him be a father to me – she was probably protecting me because of my rough past. Subsequently, I grew up rather independent and didn’t open myself up – though I was often loud and disruptive. I guess I was afraid to get too close to people – fearing they might hurt me like I was hurt by my grandmother leaving me.

About a year ago, I began to take bagged lunches to Mirror Lake each weekday at lunchtime. It was hot and I carried everything in my hands and on my back. I live in downtown, my direct neighbors include millionaires to homeless. This one to one moment was not one that I gave to someone else, but how I was affected.

I began to get to know the residents of Mirror Lake, I knew their names and where they usually lived. I soon ran out of resources and felt useless. I stopped going because I didn’t have anything to give.

Psalm 139:13-16 You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise you, so wonderfully you made me; wonderful are your works! My very self you knew; my bones were not hidden from you. When I was being made in secret, fashioned as in the depths of the earth. Your eyes foresaw my action: in your book all are written down; my days were shaped before one came to be. I was a cradle catholic from birth. Going to church Sunday mornings were a normal part of my life. When we couldn’t afford the gas, we would walk the mile and a half to and from church.

My 1 Story involves a family that my wife and I met 1 day in the parking lot of a local McDonalds.
As we pulled in my wife noticed a man under the hood of his van, looking as if he needed help. She said to me, “You should go see if he needs help.” And of course, I sighed and hesitated to get out of our van. Finally as I approached the man I noticed four people inside their van, his wife and three children. I asked him if he needed a jump start. Confused he said, “I don’t know, I don’t know what’s wrong with it.” And one thing I can tell you about myself is, I am not a mechanic, I know very little about motors if anything at all. So I got my cables and said, “Let’s try to jump start it.” No luck. It would start but then die.
Then out of my mouth came,” It must be the alternator.” What!? How did I know that was the problem? I didn’t. Then I knew it must be God, not me, so I just followed God like I knew what I was doing.
By this time my wife had introduced herself and was telling his wife and children about the church we were attending at that time. Then God says, through me, “I have my tools in my van (which was also not normal, these are tools that I never use) let me get them and I will remove the alternator so we can have it checked out.” What!? I remember my wife even looking stunned, asking me as I got my tools, “Do you really know what your doing?” My reply being, “Uhh.., I guess so.”
After about ten to fifteen minutes I had this mans alternator in my hands. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Then God said through me, again, “Ok, let’s go to the parts store to have it checked.” You can have alternators checked? What!? How did I know this? When we got there I walked in, and with all the confidence God had put in me I said, “I need to have this checked.” The man behind the counter said, “No problem.” Taking it into the back room, he soon returned saying it was dead and needed to be replaced. He offered a new one for $ 140 dollars or a rebuilt one for $90 dollars. My mouth dropped open and about that time, the man I was helping (whose name was Greg) said, “I don’t have that kind of money.” And at the same time I could hear God telling me, “Buy it for him .Buy it for him.” So, out of my mouth came, “That’s o.k. I got it.” What!? I knew then for sure it was, most certainly, without a doubt, God doing this because that was just not like me. I had always been on a tight budget. I would help people from time to time but $90 dollars was part of our rent money. But I was also smart enough to know God must have a bigger plan.
When we got back from the parts store, my wife, his wife and children were all eating ice cream and acting like old friends. I proceeded to act as the mechanic, putting the alternator back on without any knowledge, then we jumped it again and the van cranked right up and stayed running. Praise God!! I knew it had to be God. So we all gathered together to pray and thank God and give him all the praise.
The next week Greg and his whole family came to church and committed their life to Jesus. At that time I thought, ok God, I now see why you used me and gave me this knowledge because you wanted to make this connection to Greg and his family through my wife and I. Wow. God is a good God. It all still amazes me.
End of story, right. Not quite.
Greg and his family kept coming to church off and on until about a year after we met them, Greg became ill due to diabetes complications and quickly passed and went home to be with the Lord. What!? It all happened so fast and then it all became so clear to me that God really is the Alpha and Omega. He already knew what he had planned for Greg before my wife and I ever met him and his family.
I want to thank you Father God for using my wife and I, for giving us the knowledge to help you help Greg. In Jesus name, Amen
We still remain friends with Greg’s wife and kids to this day.
I just want to end this story by saying,” Please never pass up that chance God is placing in front of you. This might be your 1 day to be his mechanic.”

I’m not sure where to start my story. Growing up we went to church occasionally. I do remember a few days at Sunday school, but not many. As a family, we did a lot of things on the weekends and church was set aside. At school we had chapel service, but it seemed to be a ritual that never meant a lot to me.

I wasn’t until years later, when my husband and I had a daughter that thoughts of God came back to mind. We both knew we wanted to find a church where we could feel comfortable and our daughter could grow up knowing about God. At that point I didn’t realize how much I was looking for God also.

I was so excited when Tim said he had cards for us and that we were to go out and spread the word, one 2 one… You see, I’ve always been that person in the drive through who pays for the person behind me. When I go to Fort DeSoto or Sarasota, I take extra money with me to pay for at least the guy behind me, sometimes 2 or three behind me. My father, because he’s seen me do this, has now started doing this in Michigan (it’s hard to say, maybe I learned from him and then he re-learned the generosity from me). The only message I’ve ever asked the people at the drive through and in the toll booths to pass on is “God Bless You!” How cool is this!!! Now I have a card to go along with it!
I’m so excited to go out and leave fun, secret, little messages for those who may need God in their lives. I’m offering it up to God, that he will direct me to the places and people who need him the most right now
Thanks Tim!

My1Story is proof that God has a plan for us and it is “HIS” timing and not ours. Even though I went to church as a young boy with the family, I never really could grasp the concept that Jesus, a person that lived thousands of years ago could know me or care for me. I learned at a very young age of 5 that it was much less painful on my body to lie to my parents than to tell the truth. I never felt very good about myself and lacked self esteem through most of my life. Most of my problems I blamed on my three older sisters for many years because of how they treated me and my Mother never knew what was going on behind her back. I always felt alone and that nobody really cared about me or even loved me. As typical my Father worked a lot, but there were a few times he would take me to work with him on Saturdays which became treasured moments. When I was to start High School, my parents decide to move closer to where my Father worked. This was devastating to my low self esteem, because what few friends I did I have, I lost. Starting High School in a new school, and a new environment, as we moved from a small rural community to the city, was overwhelming on me. I became angry at my folks and withdrew even more. Then my Father died suddenly when I was in my sophomore year just before Christmas.

Door Number 3

Death has always been difficult for me. The loss of a friend or a loved one has been a source of intense emotional pain. 9/11 left me with a sense of emptiness that I just can’t put into words. Even Easter Sunday brings a flow of tears as I imagine the suffering and sense of being so alone that our Christ experienced.

Paul talks about his thorn (2 Cor 12:7) and the fact that that it will not be removed from him. Wow, can I relate. After being baptized in 1994, I moved my wife and son from Chicago to Denver in search for the next best job. God had impacted my life, and I needed to get the “rest” of it in line with the joy I was feeling. While in Denver, my daughter was born, and God placed me in the midst of a phenomenal group of brothers and sisters in Christ. I grew in ways that I am only now beginning to realize, but during this enormous blessing my “thorn” continued to remind me it was still there. Over the ten years in Denver, my job situation changed seven times, some I initiated and some I did not, but each time showed me that I did not have the control I thought I did. God blessed me over and over allowing each new chapter of my life to be a way to get closer to Him.

I was raised Catholic and really thought I understood the whole God and Jesus thing. I followed my Dad to church every Sunday and Holy day of obligation. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I met my wife in my sophomore year of high school and things began to change. I would visit her church and youth group from time to time and began to notice it was quite a bit different than what I was used to experiencing on Sunday morning. Once married, we had to decide what to do about Sunday mornings and thought we had come up with the most practical decision possible, we would go to the Catholic church one week and the Baptist church the next week. I felt like we had come up with the best solution to the Sunday morning dilemma. That is where God started to work on me. At the end of every Baptist service the pastor would have an altar call, and every week at this time I would get butterflies in my stomach and this feeling that I needed to give in and go forward. I never did because I would come up with all of the reasons why I couldn’t, mostly around embarrassment or how my Dad would feel. We did start a change; however, we started getting more involved in the Baptist church with a Sunday school class and other weekly activities. We then moved to a small town north of Chicago and began looking for a Catholic and a Baptist church we could attend. Needless to say, it was rather easy to find a Catholic church but we could not find what we expected in a Baptist church. God then introduced us to a phenomenal person through my wife’s work. She invited us to church one week and through many hours of debating we gave in and visited. What we found was a welcoming group of people who took us in and really began to be a family to us. That became our church home, and we were now a one church family. The butterflies and feelings only got stronger. We really got involved with Sunday school, a small group, and I was in two men’s groups. I felt I was doing all the right things, but I could not get rid of those feelings that there was something else. When people would ask if I had given my life to Christ, I would say of course because I grew up in a church environment and have always gone to church. I battled with that question every time it was asked because I doubted my answer, but I could not change the picture everyone had of me. It was the issue of embarrassment again. One Sunday evening I realized that I had left my Bible at the church and planned to go pick it up during the week after work one day. On Monday morning as I was taking my son to child care, which was near the church, I decided to pick up my Bible then. As I pulled into the parking lot I made one of those promises we make with God; it went something like this. “God I will go talk to the pastor if he is there when I get my Bible.” I thought I was pretty safe because it was before 8am and he normally did not come in until 9am. I found my Bible and was about to head out of the church when I remembered the promise, so I went to the office and found he was the only person there. I had to keep my promise, so I went in and started to relay this story to him and found myself praying for my salvation. The butterflies were replaced with an appetite to learn and know Him more. This chapter of my story ended with God crushing another belief I had from my childhood about baptism. The Sunday before my family moved to Colorado I found myself being baptized in front of this family where God turned my religion into a relationship.