By Harold Wisch
As a small child, I was put into foster care. . I was 16 months old when I entered foster care for the first time. I took the blame for being there upon myself. I knew I was unlovable and a bad person. As a child I tried to correct my shortcomings, but nobody showed me how.
As a boy I went to church and heard the preacher say that God loved everybody; and he sent his son Jesus to die for us. At that point I found some Being that loved me, the real me. I wanted to go to church more, I felt safe there. When nobody would take me, I would ride my bike to church so that I could hear God loved me. At that time of life, I don’t remember anybody caring for me but I knew God did.
I entered the military and continued to go to church. After service I got married and had kids. We made it a point to attend church as a family so we all could hear of God’s love. I now have four grandchildren who love me, but I still need to hear the message that God loves me.
My wife passed away a year ago in May. She died about 5:30 pm on a Wednesday. By 7:00 pm I was sitting in a pew, knowing that I was not alone. My wife’s favorite hymn was “I Know that My Redeemer Lives”, and that is what I felt.
I have also been studying metaphysics for the last 25 years, and the church and my study group have pulled me through some tough times. Recently we went on a trip and were doing a ceremony on the shore of Lake Erie. I suddenly realized that my girlfriend loved me, my teacher loved me and the whole grouped loved me. That was an unbelievably special day.
I still attend church on Wednesday nights. It still makes me feel safe and loved.