Somehow I came across information that my great uncle Frank was pastoring a church about five miles from my house on Chevrolet Avenue just west of downtown Flint.
Now, I have no idea why, but I asked my parents if I could attend this church. Maybe it was because I had whetted my appetite from my many bus excursions to various churches. Maybe I felt better knowing that some family would be there. After all, if Uncle Frank is there, then Aunt Edith is there. And if they are there, probably, Paul, Karen and Joanne are there. And if they are all there, then probably my cousins, Josh and Jeremy are there. I could manage this.
The best I can recall the church had the traditional 10 AM Sunday school hour and an 11 AM church service. I was still young so I was in my Aunt Edith’s junior church class. As a kid, I was not fond of my Aunt Edith. She was mean and she yelled everything she said. In class though, she was different. She taught me to say the books of the Old Testament from memory. She taught me numerous memory verses. I even won a board game called Eternal Life in some sort of contest. When you opened up the board, Jesus was there covering the whole thing. Once I was an adult, Aunt Edith was much more kind and civilized. She just had little patience for kids. Perfect choice for a junior church teacher.
The most amazing thing about this entire phase of God’s pursuit of me is that my dad was the one who drove me to church every Sunday. Up until now, we had spent our Sunday mornings watching Abbott & Costello movies on channel 20. Now, he would get dressed, drive me to church across town, drop me off and then come pick me up a few hours later. Every Sunday for months he did this. It may not seem unusual for a father to drive his son to church, but for my pot smoking, beer drinking, biker dad it was.
I tend to believe that God was starting to work on him too.
Joel Stiff's Adventure 