Easter Sunday in 1975 was March 30, and at that time I was a middle school student, socially awkward and with few friends. I did have the great fortune of having a stable, loving home with siblings and two great parents, but in spite of that I felt unhappy and empty. The year prior had been rough, especially when a close friend was diagnosed with a heart ailment and told that he would only live until he was in his 30’s. It turned out that he did not even have that much time, and he died before the year was out.

A night late in May

The Summer prior, my family vacationed in Minneapolis, and I only remember two items of note. One, we got lost every time we left the hotel, and two, I picked up a random book from a Mall on our last day as a souvenir. I didn’t even look at the title as I was a bookworm and figured whatever it was, I would want to read it. Some months after my friend died, I picked up that same book only to find that it was a Christian book. I already knew the basics thanks to the Confirmation program in my church, but with this book I took a deeper look at what the church had taught me. I devoured the book and stayed up late many nights pondering the implications. It all came to a head a couple of months after Easter, on Friday, May 30 a friend asked me to help him with singing at a meeting at what was once a Methodist church. It is a Baptist church now. During the meeting a college student from U. of Iowa- I never got his name-gave a talk about following Jesus, why he chose to do so and why we all should do the same. A thought kept ringing between my ears; “what have I got to lose?” I stood up and walked up to him at the front of the room and counselors (there were four and I was the only one to accept the invitation that night) gathered around and prayed for me. The meeting ended soon after and I walked home. After that everything stayed the same and yet everything changed.

What changed

I was still socially awkward and often anxious for some time after that night, but deeply personal changes took place. The church had given me a Bible and for several years it had collected dust in my closet. I found it inscrutable then, but now the words would often leap off the page. It was the most intriguing and profound book I had ever read. It still is. Going to church was a welcome opportunity. The prayers and songs were about someone that I now felt I knew personally, and who knew me as well. Prayer became an exercise that always left me with the feeling that I was being heard, and heard by someone whose power and wisdom was beyond my comprehension. I have a cousin whose late husband was a missionary pilot, and I spoke with her about my experience when I had the opportunity, and she suggested that I bring the subject up to Aunt Nellie, or Nell for short. She was one of my father’s older sisters and lived in California, rarely coming to Iowa. It turned out that she visited that Summer and made a short stop at my parent’s house on Church Street. At the end of the visit, after she had settled into the back seat of her sedan, awaiting her family to take her back home, I worked up enough courage to walk to the car and wave at her. Aunt Nell rolled down her window, and I asked if I could pose a personal question to her. She said yes. I asked her if she believed in Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior. She was startled, but then composed herself and told me that yes, she had. I explained everything that happened over the past few months and she, in so many words, gave me this piece of advice. She said that I had made the smartest decision that I would ever make. She had done the same as a young woman and she never, ever regretted it. I thanked her for her encouragement and waved goodbye as she rode off to points west. I never saw her again.

Years later

Fifty-one years have passed. I’ve long since finished high school, college and graduate school. After high school, I left Iowa and lived in five different states before moving back to Marshalltown to be the pastor of the wonderful people of First Congregational Church, my home church. I married Jeanne, my high school sweetheart and we will celebrate 45 years together this June. I met her soon after I started high school and she has been by my side for decades. We have two daughters; one has died tragically and the other lives with her husband in Kansas City. We have three of the cutest granddaughters known to man. Though all that time, one life lesson has echoed in my mind over and again since 1975.

Aunt Nel was right.

The decision to follow Jesus Christ, as the vital, living, all knowing Son of God and to base my life on Him has been the wisest decision I’ve ever made. I believe that He really did rise from the dead those many years ago and that He gives people new lives to this day. There’s an obscure verse toward the end of the New Testament that I think says it well.

1 John 5:11-12 “And this is the testimony: that God has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life.”

——-

Dan Vellinga is the pastor of First Congregational Church in Marshalltown at 312 W. Main St. The church can be reached at 641 752 4239 or found online at www.fccmarshalltown.org.