An isolated, mountain lake near Wolf Creek, OR 

Does God Interfere in Our Lives? 

Here’s a question for you...does God interfere or intercede in our lives?

The answer? I believe He does (see below). But I also believe He intercedes in some lives more than others and in some lives hardly at all.

The difference depends on a person's mental makeup. For example, is a person soft or hard, harsh or gentle, caring or non-caring? People who don’t care for other people, can’t care for God and, as a result, go through life spiritually alone and spiritually bereft.

And yet, there are those who seem to be just as hard and harsh who are that way primarily for show, or even circumstances.  For instance, a person raised in a harsh, uncaring environment might, but when given the chance, or shown a different way, have the ability or potential to change. I suspect it’s rare, but that it happens.

I’ve drawn this conclusion by looking at my own life—who I was compared to who I am today. I was never a terrorist or harmed anyone, but I was far from honest and didn’t mind taking advantage of someone if it meant a profit for me. Truly, the only things I had going for me was that I liked people and I believed in God. Except for being baptized as a child, that was about it.

As you read this story remember that is a part of my life, realize this: I've always liked people (generally speaking) and I've always had a relationship, no matter how loose, with God...


After graduating from Durango high school in 1957, I went straight into the navy, where I intended to stay until I retired. But, things don’t always go as we plan. After my wife left me and our three kids in 1968, I remained in the navy for approximately two more years before the navy bluntly told me to either adopt the kids out, or get out. My commanding officers exact words were, “You’re of no value to us anymore.”

So I got.

It all happened so quickly that I was totally unprepared for civilian life. And, that’s when the real hardships began. In order to support three children plus myself, I needed more money than was normally available for a man just starting out in life with only a high school degree. Looking, I went from one job to another, and in the process, I left Catholicism.

In the early 70s there were two things going on in my personal life; along with trying to trying to find a decent job, I was also in a desperate search for spiritual truth—although I didn't realize it.  I wanted more than what I found as a Catholic. In my search I tried Rosicrucianism, Buddhism and Hinduism, all pretty much at the same time.  

After a few years, I realized these religions left me unfulfilled and, for the first time, began praying for TRUTH! “God, show me the truth,” was my prayer.

There’s no way to explain what was really going on. My search was desperate and I knew there was an absolute reality; an absolute truth and not what someone told me to believe.

There was one other thing plaguing my life at that time: extreme loneliness. There may be nothing more deadly to the human spirit than loneliness.

I don’t remember the name of the company, but I began selling cable TV in San Jose, and was doing OK—in those days people really wanted cable, so it was easy to sell. But, I was still very lonely and spiritually bereft, so one day when the kids were in school and I had finished work early, I found myself really depressed—something I used to have to contend with periodically. Often when I was depressed I would go to the Eastridge Mall in San Jose, because just the simple act of being around people seemed to cheer me up, so off to the mall I went.

This day it didn’t work. It seemed as though everyone was all caught up in their own worlds, talking and laughing together, making me feel all the more isolated and lonely—like a little island that nobody saw or cared about. The longer I was there the more depressed I became.

Once you’re in a blue funk like that, there doesn’t seem to be a way out of it—you just sink lower and lower.  Anyway, I had reached an all-time low and decided there was only one thing left to do: go home, take my shotgun, put the barrel under my chin, point it upwards, and pull the trigger.

Once I made that decision, I instantly turned and headed for the exit. As I was nearing the exit I began praying, and this is what I said,

“God, I’m sorry to be such a disappointment to you, but I can’t take anymore.”

What happened next is why I remember what I said verbatim. I was almost to the exit when my prayer ended. Immediately two strong hands grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around in mid step.

There was nobody near me.

If you’ve never had anything like that happen to you, believe me, it’s startling. My next thought was so trite it’s hard to believe it’s actually what I thought, “Alright, if I’m not supposed to commit suicide, I won’t.”

I was stunned as I walked back into the center of the mall—something had happened that I knew couldn't happen.  Back in the middle of the mall (I was on a second story walkway) I stood by the railing that overlooked the main floor below. Looking down, I was just in time to watch a dance presentation being put on by the various Bay Area dance studios.

Directly below me were various artists warming up by doing practice dance steps, stretches, etc.  And then the show began. It was thrilling and lovely to see.  Every type of dance imaginable was performed by dancers who varied from the graceful old pros, (my age now) to awkward young children.  But they all had one thing in common: each did their very best.

That afternoon—simply by watching the dancers below—my dark mood lifted and I went home a far different man than when I arrived at the mall.  

For years I never told that story because something bothered me. Why was my life spared (interfered with) while so many others before and after have been allowed to follow through? Then one day the answer came. It wasn’t because I was special or favored by God in any way. It was because a major part of my depression was my loss of spiritual grounding. I no longer knew what to believe, yet knew there was more.

That was part of it. The other part was my prayer: I blamed nobody but myself. I didn’t blame Catholics, God, or anyone else. It was my failing, not theirs; in apologizing and saying, "I'm sorry to be such a disappointment to you,"  I was turned around

So, what about absolute truth? Did I ever find it?

Ahh, that's what life's all about.  But you have to be on the journey by believing.  And today so many are not.  And that is the reason why our world is the way it is...and it ain't good.

Are you searching for truth?