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I can definitely say that on March 2, 1974, I chose to become a Christian. Did I really understand the choice that I was making? No, not really. But I knew it was the right choice, and I have not looked back once nor regretted the choice.
A little backstory might help to clarify a few things. As a child, I remembered going to the Church of St. Augustine. It was located on Wilson Ave SE, two blocks north of Division St (now Third St. E), but also called MN 23. This was likely the closest church to our home in rural St. Cloud. My grandfather used to go there sometimes, but mostly before I was old enough to see him go. His wife, I believe, went to the Presbyterian church across the river and south several blocks. My parents went there. My mother converted to Catholicism in order to marry my dad, since he was raised Catholic. My Grandpa's mother was 100% Irish and was very Catholic. My mother's Smith side came from an evangelical German background (as did my dad's mother's side). I believe that my mother's parents and siblings were active in the faith, though I don't know how much was from her mother or her father. As you can see, there was some diversity.
As a child, we attended St. Augustine's for services, though perhaps not as faithfully as others. I do recall that some of us kids attended mid-week evening catechism classes. I think I know that Becky had her first communion at St. Augustine's, though I think mine was not until we were in Fargo. When we moved to Fargo, the family was quite busy with my dad being a full-time graduate student and my mother working as she could. I recall many Saturdays and Sundays spent hunting ducks, deer, rabbits, grouse, and not attending St. Anthony, the closest church to our home (about 5 blocks away), very much (except at first afer our arrival).
When in Fargo, Mom got involved with the Charismatic Renewal movement that was happening at St. Anthony's. Becky recalled Mom becoming less depressed (it was hard for her to leave our home in St. Cloud, among other things) after Mom's exposure to these meetings. Mom gave Becky a book by David Wilkerson (The Cross and the Switchblade), which intrigued her. When Mom invited Becky to join her, she was reluctant at first, but then got involved after a bit. I don't know about my other male siblings, but I was oblivious (at the time) to these initial transformations in Fargo.
When we moved back to St. Cloud in 1972, I was a freshman in high school and encountered many new people who were not from my elementary school four years earlier. I wasn't sure how to fit in after succeeding well in Fargo, and then leaving all of that behind. But I also left behind my wrestling and band in Fargo, my female friends, and my guy friends that I knew. I grew out my hair to be long and sort of rebelled in some ways, though I was still studious. I gained some friends in my freshman year, particularly some on the bus ride to school. At the end of that year, I had observed mom and Becky "acting religious", but I didn't even really know what that meant. However, I did sense some sincerity in their activities. That summer, even though I had no idea who God was, who Jesus was, or anything about prayer or anything related to God, I made a prayer for two things. I had a wart on my left hand, and I wanted it gone, and I wanted a girlfriend. I don't remember speaking anything, but more just wanting or wishing.
In my sophomore year, I was taking chemistry, and the girl behind me in class (sitting alphabetically) was friendly. I later learned that she was a senior (where most students in the class were juniors). When we got to working on labs, either our teacher paired us together or we self-selected and worked together. This was Marcia, who later became an important part of my life. She also happened to be in Becky's homeroom (both last names starting with H), and eventually the connection between Becky and me was determined by Marcia, sometime before Christmas or after the new year (I don't recall). Some time after this connection was made, Marcia confided to Becky some things that suggested that Marcia was interested in me, which Becky told me. In hindsight, I think that the wart had left by then also, but I certainly didn't recall my summertime pleas.
After Christmas, a new student joined our class, and he was added to our lab group (i.e., Marcia and I - some groups were 3, some 2). Craig was a neat guy, and we enjoyed him. (I was able to make contact with him in the last 7 years.) We had fun at lab time, and we bonded even more than when it was just Marcia and me. However, Marcia and I started talking more outside of class, and I learned more about her. In particular, I learned that her father had hired mine (more from my parents than from Marcia) and that I may have brought her family sweet corn at some point, or that we may have played together at a biology summer picnic. I eventually ended up meeting Harold (her father), and somehow we learned that we both liked playing ping pong. So I started playing 3 or 5 games every time I came, starting in late January or early February, usually on a Friday evening. Marcia and I sometimes walked around downtown, but we also learned to spend time at this place that Becky and her friends frequented, Jacob's Well, a Salvation Army ministry run by various friends of Becky. It had ping pong, pool, popcorn, and other things to do downstairs, but upstairs, there was singing, sharing, messages, and things that I deemed as of no interest to me since they were too religious. I think Marcia and I visited Jacob's Well every Friday night, though perhaps walking elsewhere as well. I think I usually caught a ride with Becky or she with me (since I had a driver's license, but she hadn't taken her test yet). Each time Marcia and I visited in February (or January), we only visited the basement, where the ping pong table was located.
The first day of March in 1974 was a Friday. Marcia and I took a walk through parts of downtown (mostly just talking to get to know each other better), and then we ended up at Jacob's Well. I had ridden with Becky that night, and it was relatively pleasant outside, despite it being the first of March. After playing ping pong downstairs with various people (including Marcia, who knew how to play), playing some pool, and eating some popcorn, we somehow decided to go upstairs for a little bit and listen. At this point, I don't recall if Becky had suggested coming up, if somebody else did, if Marcia or I suggested it, or if we just poked our heads in as we were about to head outside. At any rate, we stayed for a bit and listened (whether it was music, a testimony, or what, I don't know now). I just know that I listened and I heard words that I didn't understand, but I felt a pulling from something within that I also didn't understand. After a bit, a guy came over to me and started talking with me; later, I learned his name was Steve Braun. He then asked me something like "Do you know Jesus?" I didn't even know what he meant, so I just said that I didn't know. I think he then said something like, "Would you like to know Jesus?" At this point, it started to feel more personal, and again I said that I didn't know. I think he then asked me one more question, and I simply answered: "I need to think about this." That wasn't a brush off, but it was how I really felt. During this, Marcia was next to me, and I got up to leave and pointed to the door to her. I then told her that I wanted to think about this and that I thought I would walk home. Marcia asked a clarifying question since it was about 10:00 at night, and home was about 7 miles from where we were. I was sure I needed to think and reflect. I had felt an inner pulling, but I didn't understand it.
In the background to these times that Marcia and I were together at Jacob's Well, Marcia and Becky had been talking together at school (being in the same homeroom), and Marcia shared how she had gone forward at a crusade (David Wilkerson, I believe) in the summer before, but had not been actively working on growing in her faith. This makes me guess (and we likely talked about it, but I don't recall now) that Marcia and Becky had "colluded" to pray for me in my times that we came to Jacob's Well.
Getting back to the previous paragraph where I decided that I need to think about the question that Steve Braun asked me about whether I wanted to know Jesus: I had told Marcia that I was going to walk home, and next I needed to inform Becky that she didn't need to give me a ride back home. From Jacob's Well, I walked to Division St. and then headed east. I started thinking about the question that Steve asked me. On the one hand, I had no clue what it meant to "know Jesus", but on the other hand I had felt the rightness of it and the pulling on my heart. However, how could I know Jesus and when I really didn't know hardly anything about him. All I knew was that he sort of like God, but I had no knowledge of the gospel message or of his historic place in the world. I got to the Mississippi River, a river that I crossed every day to go to school. Before I had finishing crossing over the river, I had decided to answer affirmatively to this issue, even though I really didn't know about what that would entail. Perhaps, I should have turned around and gone back, saving me the next 6.5 miles of walking, but that didn't happen. I was glad the weather was decent (about 35) and that I was dressed for it. It was a quiet walk down the Deltone Road and then the rest of the way, but I got home and felt peace.
Becky had talked to me once or twice about the House of Light, which was a similar group to those at Jacob's Well. While Jacob's Well had as its primary goal to be evangelical, the House of Light was more like a home church structure with music, sharing, and time for prayer. On Saturday morning, I asked Becky if she was going there that evening and she replied affirmatively and asked me if I wanted to join her. I said yes and called Marcia to see if she wanted to join us. It was about halfway between Marcia's home and Jacob's Well. We arrived in time for the 7:00 starting time and I found Marcia. The "service" was totally new to me and foreign, but I was not put off. Afterwards, Steve again came over and talked to me about whether I wanted to know Jesus, and this time I answered affirmatively, but with the caveat that I still didn't really understand what that meant. He walked me through the basics of the gospel message that I now know so well, but not at all then. We prayed together and I began a new chapter in my life, having been "born again".
Becky quickly found a Bible that I could read, a paraphrase called The Way. At home, I made a commitment to read it, starting in the gospels. After months of reading it and learning the difference between a translation and a paraphrase, I purchased a New American Standard Bible translation. I faithfully read it, studied, prayed, attended church, the House of Light, and Jacob's Well. I got involved in helping to set up Jacob's Well for Friday nights. I grew in my faith. Even that spring, I shared in my Speech class a short overview of my conversion as part of an assignment. I kept learning more about what it really meant to want to know who Jesus was, and I kept affirming my choice to jump in, with no regrets.
Now, 52 years later, I am still growing in my faith. I choose to always start my day by first reading the Bible and then spending time in prayer. I take time to study the Bible and learn how the words can instruct me. I read, ask questions, help lead Bible studies, and I keep growing.
Published 2026-06-08.
If you find any errors in the text, please let me know. Thanks. Contact me with errors or comments using hibbardac@gmail.com. [Back to the top] [About the author, Al]