When & Why I Started Believing in God

I remember very clearly when I started believing in God. It was before what is considered to be the age of understanding, but for me, it was distinctly when my belief started. Since then I have always believed in God.

I was three years old, and we lived on a farm in central Alberta. The two nearest neighbours were a half mile away, and a mile and a half away. The closer neighbours were not very friendly, so we seldom talked to them. But the couple who were a bit further away, were much more friendly. Mr. Hoffman, to me looked just like Brutus in the Popeye movie, and was kind of gruff, so I steered clear of him. But his wife was a lovely woman, and I really liked her, and always wanted to tag along so I could talk to her, and see the lambs they had in their barn.

The nearest town was seven miles away, and had a population of four hundred people. We lived in a rural farming area that had many people who had immigrated from various European countries.

We were Scandinavian, most of the others were from Poland, the Ukraine, and in outlying areas, there were German settlements. People still referred to their parent’s home country as the “old country.” It made it sound as if those faraway countries, were so far in the distant past, they barely existed anymore.

I used to imagine they were full of people who were a hundred years old or more, and couldn’t make it to Canada. Some of the local kids did not know English when they started school. They soon learned though. And I soon learned about the old countries, when we took geography at school. I found out they were not full of old people after all.

Our father would often visit the Hoffmans to talk about farm machinery and what not. They usually stood outside and talked. I would beg to go along, so I could talk to Mrs. Hoffman, and would always ask her if I could play with the lambs. They were so adorable.

She was the nicest, kindest woman, and was happy to talk to me. I would ask her all kinds of questions. I had watched a movie that scared me a lot. It was about someone getting kidnapped, and I realized it was so the family would have to pay money to get them back. I knew our parents did not have much money, and was afraid no one would pay a nickel for me if I got kidnapped.

She told me about God, and she said He knows every single hair on my head, which amazed me from then on. I would look at people who had really thick curly hair, and marvel at how God could know how many hairs were on their head. I couldn’t even guess.

She went on to say God would make sure no one harmed a single hair on my head. I was very impressed with God, based on what she told me about Him. I trusted her too, because she was so nice, and loving, and also sort of radiant, especially in her eyes.

At the same time, our mother was in heart failure from a bout of rheumatic fever as a child. During and after her pregnancies, she was getting sicker and weaker by the day. She was one of the first, and at the time, the youngest in all of Canada, to get open heart surgery, and valve replacements. It was experimental surgery, and the outcome was not known. Later on she told me she had an out of body experience during the surgery, and watched the surgery being done from above. She said there were green sheets everywhere, almost completely covering her up.

I remember hearing her crying one night before she went to the hospital for the surgery, talking to our father, and telling him she did not think she would live through it. She was just twenty-three years old at the time, and had several small children.

I remember praying every single night, that she would come back from the hospital, and not die. I still remember the day she came back like it was yesterday. She was so pale and slender, and was wearing a belted mauve dress, with mauve embroidered trim.

I was outside by the gate when I heard the car door slam, and came running around the corner to see her. I thought she looked like an angel. She was so weak, but the love in her eyes literally shone when she saw me come running. She too had a radiance about her, similar to our kind neighbour.

It solidified and reinforced my belief in God. In fact, I was positive God had answered my prayers. This to me was proof. After that I prayed earnestly about all kinds of things. Like not to get kidnapped, not to fall into quicksand, not to see a bear when my little brother and I played in the woods, and so on.

Although life took many twists and turns, and I went through times of darkness and being lost, I have always believed in God with all my heart. Later on in my youth and early teens, I began to learn about the significance of Jesus and being saved.

As a very young child, I believed. It was unwavering, and still is. It is almost like the seed was planted when I went to the neighbours to play with the lambs. She would give me a muffin, and talk to me about all kinds of things. She never told me I asked too many questions, which is something I got told a fair bit. I was a chatterbox, and curious to no end.

Later on as I looked back on those conversations, I knew what a gem she was in sharing her faith with me, to offer reassurance, and to let me know about God, and His love for us.

Many years later, when our mother did die, I walked into the small town hall after her funeral, and by that time, Mrs. Hoffman was in her nineties. She immediately recognized me, and she was as warm and loving as ever.

It really goes to show how much influence a person can have over another person’s life, especially a child. I will always be grateful for her, and her kind Christian words. They never left me, and I am thankful to know I will see her again some day.