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How I know God is real
By Tim Siewert

Many people today claim to be “Christians”; I don’t because I refuse to be amalgamated with all of those people who claim this.  I wish to not be categorized with those people because in truth, many who claim to be “Christians” either do not believe in the Divinity of my Lord Yehoshua or, they merely give His Father lip service; they dutifully go to some building on Sundays and participate in the religious ceremonies but they are phony, just going through the motions to give the illusion that they care.  I know for certain that many of these people who claim to believe in God today have their doubts about His very existence; I did at one time also.  I have stated before that I refer to myself in the same way as Saul of Tarsus referred to himself: “a true believer”.  Two experiences convinced me long ago of His existence; the second experience first.

During my “fugitive period” in the beginning of 1984 I lived with a rather interesting fellow in Northern California, about 150 miles north of San Francisco, for about 2 ½ months; I will refer to him as “R”.  R lived “off the grid”: paid strictly cash for everything, paid no taxes, no electricity or running water, wood stove for heat, and he cooked his food on a Coleman camp stove; he did have a telephone though, go figure.  R did not own the property he lived on; he was the official “caretaker” of the property as the true owner lived in Montreal.  In exchange for living rent-free R made improvements to the property for the owner as the owner sent him money for material and instructions as to what he wanted done; and it suited the owner to have someone living there opposed to the place being vacant.  R subsisted by doing other odd-jobs for other people in the area and selling firewood.  I will admit I had it pretty good with R for a while; he turned me on to odd-jobs as well so I could earn money to buy my own food and when we cut firewood together he split the proceeds with me.  Living with R had an additional benefit; R was a “horticulturalist”. We shared a whole hell-of-a-lot of “Primo Ganja”.

One day after I had been living with R for 2 ½ months, the two of us got an invitation to a party at a house about two miles away from R’s place.  In this particular area, 2 miles was virtually a next-door neighbor.  We were told that there would be plenty of beer, blow, and most importantly, GIRLS!  So we went.  This party was a birthday party for one of the house residents, a young lad who was 17.  Most of the party attendees were also 17, 18, or 19 years old; which made me at 26 and R at 30 the two oldest guys there.  I had two objectives: to get “well-lit” and laid (it had been a while).  After mingling for about two hours or so R informed me that he was leaving, his live-in girlfriend was at home, but he assured me that he had cleared it with the host that I could stay and pursue my objectives.  After a few more hours, a few more doobies, and quite a few more beers; I suddenly found myself surrounded by seven of the male party attendees in the basement of the house.  They informed yours truly that they had got it into their feeble little minds that I was gay!  Me; of all people gay?!  I am the most ungay, non-homo, anti-fag man to ever walk the face of this planet!!!  Truth be told, the whole concept of homosexual behavior is repulsive to me, I find girl/girl porn offensive.  Furthermore they informed me that they believed I had been attempting to “pick-up” one of the other younger party attendees (a 14-year-old boy) for illicit activities!  I talked to the kid one time for about five fucking seconds!  To this day, every time I think about it, that concept is so preposterous to me, anyway back to the story.  The seven males then informed me that their intent was to kill me and bury my body in the woods because they didn’t like gays and were going to thwart my nefarious intent.  Clearly they were unsuccessful.  I managed to make my way out of the basement and out of the house and back to R’s place.  If I had not been so drunk and high I would have likely inflicted more pain and damage than what I did; beyond the few bruises and what other injuries I remember having inflicted I will never know; although I have often wondered how well the guy I threw into the wood stove turned out.  I know God was with me that night; I got out of there with only a fat lip.

Now for the other story:  In the fall of 1982, I was living in Virginia.  I was desperately trying to make a go of it as a one-man construction company.  One morning, as I was about to get on the Interstate on the way to work, I stopped to pick up a hitch-hiker who was standing on the on-ramp.  By this point in my life I had already done a fair amount of hitch-hiking myself and this particular fellow looked like he really needed a ride; so I stopped the old Ford and let him in.  When he got in my truck he introduced himself to me as John.  Even after all these years I can still picture him in my mind; John was a white guy, almost as tall as me, about late 30s or maybe 40, with fair complexion, short light brown hair, and clean shaven; and striking blue eyes.  Right about here I need to explain something about hitch-hiking for all who have never done it.  You are far more likely to get rides if you have a bag; this indicates that you are seriously traveling and not just going from one exit to the next.  John had a bag.  By this point in my life I already knew the little voice and the other reason why I stopped is because the little voice told me to; LOUDLY!         

        
John didn’t waste any time striking up a conversation with me either.  I didn’t think anything of this because a) I had inherited my father’s gregarious nature and b) it is customary to converse when hitch-hiking; to not do so is highly un-cool.  The topic of conversation quickly got around to The Lord and God and even though that was unusual I felt very comfortable with it; I had accepted Yehoshua as my Lord many years before.  After just five minutes, I felt very at ease with John.  When we got to my exit, John asked me if I wanted to get a cup of coffee.  I considered it for a moment and agreed since I was my own boss and there really was nothing pressing at my job that couldn’t wait for 15 minutes.  There was a McDonalds right on the way so I stopped there.  We both ordered only coffee and sat down in a booth right by the door.

John and I talked for over two hours that morning at that McDonalds.  I told John my life’s story to that point.  I told him about all of my problems (I had quite a few at the time); it was a very cathartic experience.  After over two hours, John and I prayed; right there in that McDonalds.  As we got up to leave, I turned to the door we were by to walk out and walked out the door.  I had thought John was right behind me, but he wasn’t.  Then I thought he went out the opposite door.  I quickly got in my truck and drove around to the other side because I was going to offer him a ride back out to the Interstate highway; but he was nowhere in sight.  I drove around the McDonalds three times looking for him and then up and down the street but never found him.  It was as if he vanished into thin air.  Then the realization happened.  I went back into the McDonalds and asked the staff if any of them had seen what happened to the man I had just been in there with.  The manager informed me that I had been there for over two hours talking to myself!  They certainly recognized me but had seen no one else with me the whole time I was there!  As a matter of fact, the manager told me that they had been concerned but since I wasn’t bothering any other customers they decided to leave me alone.

I don’t know who John was or even exactly what he was; he may have been an angel, he may have been The Spirit of The Lord, or he may have even been the Apostle John, I don’t know.  What I do know is this: my life was permanently changed that day.  I will remember that day for all eternity.  I have never doubted for an instant since God’s reality.  I may one day see John again; I will thank him then; but he probably already knows.

So you see, God always watches out for those who trust in Him; and you don’t have to go to some building to commune with Him, you just have to have an open heart and pick up the right hitch-hiker.