RUNNING THE RACE
We decided to sell the house and the boat. All of our friends just shook their heads at our folly. Even the young pastor expressed doubts about our decision. As it turned out, we spent three of perhaps the most important years of our lives at Houghton College. It was there that we met many hundreds of fellow Christians who were also exercising their faith, studying to understand the Bible, and learning to live joyful, peaceful lives
This experience sounds like a contradiction. On the one hand, my wife and I benefited greatly from the teachers, pastors, and friends we made along the way. On the other hand, there were times when we had to go it alone by faith in a loving God.
The Olympic atmosphere is the same. The athletes strive diligently to develop minds and bodies. Preparation involves following the advice of teachers and coaches. But while the race is run, the athlete must go it alone and draw on past training and experience. Hopefully, the time of preparation will enable the athlete to perform better than ever before in the actual event. Everyone realizes that present performance is a compound of continuous preparation plus drawing on past experience. Even then, perfection is an illusive goal.
There is always a chance to start over when you fall on your face. The person who wants to improve works on developing and maintaining a wholesome personal life. A person needs some biblical principles and some teachers and coaches who will help him locate himself and guide him along the way. No one can maintain perfection, to be sure, but everyone can point toward perfection and work on getting closer.
When an athlete enters a contest that requires physical strength, he must have built up strength before the event. It’s too late to start it when the contest begins. Practicing faith is also an exercise. It builds confidence in God just as surely as physical exercise builds muscle. This faith in God must be built up before a crisis, just like muscles must be built up before an event.
We were in for a surprise.
A professor at Houghton College challenged me to go on for a master’s degree in clinical psychology. I prayed and told God that I would want the best training available if that was the direction we should go. I asked Him to allow me to go to one of three universities that had what I believed to be good programs: University of Michigan, University of Minnesota, and University of Chicago. I also reminded God that my financial resources were dwindling and I was trusting Him to show me what to do about it. All three universities turned me down. In asking God for an explanation, His answer?
Silence.
I had received several good job offers, but it seemed to me that it made more sense to continue my education. From January through August, I made many attempts to get God’s attention for some specific guidance. I yelled at Him and expressed my anger and disgust at what I perceived to be His lack of attention to my problems. I even threatened to turn my back on Him and to tell people how He had treated me as I pouted for a while. His answer?
Silence.
In August, I moved my family to Detroit, my home town, and temporarily moved in with my folks. There was a new school in Detroit, Wayne University, that met in a condemned high school building. Reluctantly, I contacted the head of the clinical psychology department. He looked at my transcripts and commented that he did not like the Bible courses listed there, but he finally said that I could study at Wayne on academic probation for the first year. When I paid my tuition, I had exactly one dime left to my name, a wife, and three children. I flipped the dime into the air with my thumb, caught it with the same hand and crossed the street to buy a Coke.
“That’s what I get for putting my faith in You,” I prayed. “I’m broke, on probation, and in a dump of a school.” God’s answer? You guessed it—
Silence.
One of the biblical principles that I had been depending on was that if we put the Kingdom of God and His righteousness first, all these things would be added to us. To my mind, I had kept my end of the bargain. Right then it seemed to me that God had not kept His side of the deal.
My first class at Wayne State was in test administration. The professor paired us up in groups of two. We were to take a test and see which one of us could do it faster. My partner, Bill, was a dull, sleepy looking person who didn’t seem very bright. I beat him easily. I was getting more disgusted by the minute. He asked me my name and what I did. Reluctantly, I told him, “Nothing.” Disinterested, I asked him the same questions. He said he was the head of the Psychology Department at General Motors Institute. I thought to myself, “Yea, yea, what a big liar. This guy couldn’t even head up sharpening the pencils at General Motors.” He asked me, “Do you want a job?”
“Huh! Do I want a job?”
It turned out he really was what he said he was. In a matter of weeks, I was teaching in the psychology department at General Motors Institute. In addition to a job, my benefits included a new Pontiac car, when cars after World War II were as scarce as hen’s teeth. In addition, all my tuition was paid to work on a master’s degree.
I told Bill, my new boss and angel, that all this was an answer to prayer. He replied, “The heck it is! I’m an atheist. I needed a teacher and you’re qualified.”