I grew up in an un-churched home. My father had never attended any type of church as far as I knew, but he did have a negative feeling towards the Roman Catholic faith. Though my mother grew up a nominal Catholic, she stopped attending church at my dad’s insistence, and as a result, my sister and I never attended. That is, not until I decided to become a Cub Scout. In order to qualify, a boy had to be “reverent”. I interpreted this to mean that I had to start going to church, so I found one that had a Cub Scout Pack and started attending Drexel Park Presbyterian Church. I continued to attend from Sunday school, to eventually, regular services, to becoming a membership and meeting my first wife.

While we continued to attend after we were married, we felt we were missing something. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but I had a clue. In one of our regular hymns, we sang the words “He your Savior wants to be, be saved today”. Nothing was ever spoken about being “saved” in our services, but I just figured I didn’t understand. Oh well.

We soon moved to Oak Lawn and decided that it would be more convenient to attend a church closer to home. We settled on a Lutheran church and, after taking the required instruction, became members. As we settled in, I became a Sunday school teacher, a member of the Board of Christian Education, even an elder in the congregation, but the feeling of incompleteness persisted. Something was still missing, and as I began to pay attention, I became aware of the dreary repetition, and the deadness of the services. I started to lose interest.

The head elder had arranged a retreat for the elders and their wives where we would hear the testimony of a Chicago fire fighter and discuss how it impacted us. The speaker told of how he “found” the Lord. He also explained that we had to make a personal commitment to the Lord and not just a particular church or denomination. I was challenged by his words and we were invited to visit the church he attended, Homewood Full Gospel. When we made our visit, I thought the place was wild, but felt an attraction. We visited a few more times, until the Pastor gave an alter call that changed my life.

My wife and I accepted the Lord into our lives. We felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from our shoulders. I had thought that joining a church was just the same as accepting the Lord, but what a colossal difference. Finally, I knew what it meant to be saved and to be one with the Lord.

My journey with the Lord had just begun and in December of 1982, my wife and I began attending Christian Hills Church. Thirty-four years later, I still seek Him daily and am amazed as I see His hand move in my life and the lives of those around me.