Blessed beyond measure would be a description of my life. Not to say I have a bunch of gold in the coffers or anything like that, or that I have had an easy ride for that matter. Nevertheless, I have been blessed with a life of adventure that I would not trade for anything. Sometime back as we were talking about history and happenings, I asked my friend Chad Wilks: “Do you know anyone who has lived a lifelike mine?” He was quiet for a while before he responded: “No, I can’t think of anyone who has lived a life like yours.” Sometimes things happen that you just cannot explain. You see, I walked into a church on an Easter Sunday Morning, I believe it was 1979. A lot of people might do something like that, but then I found myself on the mission field in 1983. I have kind of been there since. Not many people do that. I hadn’t gone to any seminary or taken missiology classes. I just ended up on the Mission field. One day, I was a welder, mechanic for a logging contractor in the little mountain community of Pierce, Idaho, and the next day I was a missionary in Honduras, Central America. Only God does things like that. And over the last four decades, time and time again, I have seen God do what no human being could have done. That is what I mean by “blessed beyond measure.” You have heard the testimonies of probably a 100 people as to how they came from the dark to the light, so I won’t go into much background stuff. You already know the story and I will not bore you with mine. How’s that? But you must start someplace, so I guess I will start with the sign out front. Pierce, Idaho only had about 900 habitants at the time. That might provide you with an idea as to the size of the community. You could not get lost and had driven all the gravel streets several times. I had cruised by that little white church without paying much attention on several occasions I suppose. There was one thing did catch my eye, however. They had a sign out front. There was a pigeon with fire coming out the backside, flying into an open book. I thought that was interesting but had not a clue as to what they were trying to get across. I supposed the book would be the Bible, but the bird had me perplexed. The sign also had written around the edges: “Church of the Nazarene.” I supposed that was the name, but it didn’t communicate much to someone who did not know what “Nazarene” was. Painted on the sign, above the book, was written: “Holiness unto the Lord.” That made sense. I could remember a few things from Sunday School, and I knew that God was Holy, Holy, Holy. I could go with that. Anyway, obviously whoever painted that sign did not understand how to communicate with people who did not attend church. The “welcoming message” just did not come across. But you know that Easter Sunday morning, way back in the 1970’s I walked right into that church and sat in the back row, close to the door in case of the need for an emergency exit. Only God does things like that. That was a start. 44 “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them, and I will raise them up at the last day. (John 6:44)