From the time I was in third grade until I was 17, I attended a Pentecostal church the most.
I even attended that one and the Baptist church throughout most of my life until the early '90s, when I first learned about the Worldwide Church of God.
As a young child I always knew that the Sabbath was Saturday, but never to my knowledge did I have contact with any Saturday-Sabbath keepers. When I asked my mother to explain why, if the Sabbath is Saturday, do people keep Sunday, she got mad at me, and that was the end of the conversation.
God will reel you in
Now that you realize that at the time these things happened I was not a Saturday-Sabbath keeper of any sort and that I hardly ever attended any Sunday-keeping church either, perhaps you can have more compassion for those who are not yet called.
Their time will come, and God will reel them in, sometimes from the deepest sin-infested life a person could be living.
I know a lot about the sin-infested world we live in because I was a member of it until God called me and changed my entire life little by little.
In the mid-'70s I was on my way to pick my daughter up at day care when I had a car accident.
Many of you reading this are familiar with the Wisconsin Dells area. I was born and raised in the Wisconsin Rapids, Wis., area and lived there until the late '80s. That is about one hour north of Wisconsin Dells. Highway 13 goes north from Wisconsin Dells to Wisconsin Rapids.
Back in the '70s Highway 13 in Wisconsin Rapids was a treacherous two-lane. There were a lot of accidents on that stretch of road, and I was one of its statistics.
I had just left work to pick up my daughter at day care and was headed south on Highway 13. It was winter and I missed my turn.
I saw a driveway to a restaurant and drove in to turn around and found that the driveway was not plowed and the ditch was deep, so I was stuck.
I was on the opposite side of the road now, facing the wrong way in the lane, and I could see a car coming really fast in the lane I was now in. So I did not have any time to back up and get back into the lane I had been in.
I figured I was off on the shoulder of the road far enough and had my headlights on so surely the other car going north would see my car and go around me.
As it turned out, he cut my car in half and never broke a single window in his. My car's trunk was now lying in the ditch several feet from the rest of my car and me. His car was a quarter mile down the road in the opposite ditch.
Back in those days it seemed like everyone's car had a CB radio, and mine was no exception. It took the police a half hour to 45 minutes to get there, but I remember hearing almost everyone who went by calling in this accident to the CB police channel while I listened.
A man came to the window of my car and asked if I was okay.
I said my leg hurt. I was holding down the brake pedal so hard when the accident happened that my leg ached from the stress. Otherwise I and the guy who hit me--who had a kid in the same day care that my daughter attended--escaped with no injuries.
The police understood what happened and I never did get a ticket for being in the wrong lane.
However, my insurance company paid for the other guy's car after nine months of trying to get out of it.
It could have been a worse accident than it was, and what happened afterwards was something I kept my mouth shut about for years because who would believe me? For the most part the people in the world just don't believe the kind of story I'm about to tell.
It was faster for me to go from work down Highway 13 south to Church Avenue to pick up my daughter from day care, so that is what I still planned to do, even in the days and weeks after my car accident.
Not long after the accident I was on my way to pick up my daughter at day care. I always had to stop for a four-way stop sign on the edge of town. I stopped, and then my car would not go south on Highway 13.
All on its own, my car turned down County Road Z, and I had to take the back roads to go to the day-care center. Those back roads hardly ever have traffic on them except a car or two, but this day there were all kinds of cars going the opposite direction, coming toward me. They were detouring off of Highway 13 because of an accident.
My daughter attended the day care for a couple of more years before and after she started school. On any day when there was an accident or about to be an accident on Highway, 13 my car always turned onto County Road Z.
So we're talking here about intervention from God, intervention that lasted for several years and happened to a person in the world who was into the sin of the world.
It was as if a power were turning my steering wheel and I was totally unable to make the steering wheel go the way I wanted it to go.
Once my car was headed down County Road Z, I could drive it just fine, and I always could see all the detoured traffic coming towards me while I took the back roads to the day-care center.
Trucker in white
My angel sighting happened in the late '80s as I was traveling Interstate 80 in western Nebraska on my way to Phoenix, Ariz.
I was clipping along and noticed that my service engine light had come on. I had just recently bought the car and I didn't want to wreck it, so I pulled over on the side of the interstate and got out and raised my hood to wait for the highway patrol or someone else who would help.
My car was pointed west. Though I honked my horn at passersby, no one stopped to help me.
I was looking east because the traffic going west on the side of the interstate I was on was coming from the east.
Then I looked west and was surprised to see parked in front of my car the back end of a full-size semi truck and trailer. Yet no semi-truck-and-trailer rig had passed me as I was looking east. There was no truck, and then there was a truck.
Man of few words
A man got out of the truck. He was dressed from head to foot in white.
I clearly remember he was a man, but, even though I looked right at him, I don't know what his face looked like.
He was apparently a man of few words. He took one look under the hood of my car and said, "You broke a belt."
He pointed and said, "You can go up there and get it fixed."
I saw nothing "up there" due to a small hill.
Then he said, "Follow me."
I got into my car and followed his truck. He turned in at a restaurant on the left, and I turned right at the place where he said they would fix it for me.
So far what makes this a strange story is that a full-size semi truck and trailer had to have passed me while I was watching traffic going west on an interstate highway, yet no semi had passed me, and yet there it was parked right in front of my car facing west.
Also, the driver was dressed in white from head to foot. My dad and three of my brothers were all semi-truck drivers. I grew up around trucks and truck drivers, and I never in my life to that day or after have seen a single other truck driver dress in white from head to foot.
The story gets stranger. I saw the same helpful truck driver park his truck in the parking lot at the restaurant before I walked into the gas station to see if someone would fix my car.
I entered the gas station and I explained to the guy that I had a broken belt and that I had $30 and I needed to have some of that money to be able to eat.
He said it would cost me $25.
I had money in a bank in Phoenix, but my ATM card would not work in Nebraska, although it would work when I got to Colorado.
I left my car and walked to the restaurant where the truck driver had stopped. I wanted to thank him for helping me.
It was there a minute ago
His truck was still parked outside the restaurant, so I went into the restaurant and saw a waitress wiping off tables. The place looked empty, so I asked her if a man had come in to eat.
She said, "No, no one has come in in quite some time."
I practically ran to the door I had just entered. When I looked out, the truck was gone.
It wasn't on the interstate either. I could see for miles from where I was standing. That semi truck, trailer and driver disappeared from sight, just as they had appeared.
Through the years I have had other truck drivers help me when I broke down on the road, but I saw them come and go, and they were wearing blue jeans or a uniform of some sort. If this trucker in western Nebraska wasn't an angel, then who was he?
Remember, at this point in my life I still did not know about the Worldwide Church of God, nor to my knowledge did I know any Saturday-Sabbath keepers.
As I was getting ready to move from Fort Atkinson, Wis., to Bismarck, N.D., I had just finished work for the day in Lake Mills, Wis., when I had another strange encounter.
I had my own cleaning business in Wisconsin at the time, and I also now had been a Sabbath keeper for about six years.
I was tired after work, and I just wanted to stop at the grocery store and go home.
So I went in and got what I needed and walked to the checkout. I was in line behind one or two people, and the cash register was working just fine. When it was my turn to check out, the cash register jammed.
Even though three employees tried to get it to work, it would not.
Then all of a sudden the cash register started working again. The employees were surprised and had no idea why it quit working or why it started working again all of a sudden.
I left Lake Mills and continued to the intersection of Highway 18 and pulled up to the stop sign. There was a three-car pileup that had just happened at that intersection. Two cars were in a farmer's field half a block from the intersection, and another one was scattered on Highway 18.
The police were not yet there, so I had just missed this accident.
I then knew why the cash register jammed and then started again all of a sudden.
You may be a part
These are the three incidents that stick out most in my mind, but there have been numerous strange happenings throughout my life.
To say that God doesn't guide and help those who are still in their sin is not true. A person can be in the process of being called for many years before his calling actually happens. Everyone will have a chance at some point.
I didn't tell anyone about these events for many years because I thought no one would believe me.
God is probably working with far more people than we can even imagine, so always be ready to give an answer to those who ask, because you may be a part of their calling.