Intertribal Life Newspaper -

I was born in Winnipeg but within a year, my parents moved to Spirit River, Alberta. My mom had been married twice and her first husband had an affair and abandoned her and her first child. Eventually she met my dad, and they got married and had my brother and me.

We moved back to Winnipeg when I was ten and lived in the western part of the city for two years. Then tragedy struck our family.

My dad worked in underground construction with his brother. One day, on his way home, he was in an accident with another vehicle, and he was at fault. He and the other people were OK; however, the other party sued our family. As a result, we lost everything. At that point, we were forced to move to Winnipeg's North End.

I loved reading and had this eagerness to learn. But I had epilepsy as a child and took heavy medication making me slower.

Going to Aberdeen School was devastating for me; it was like going to prison. The police were called from time to time. There were guns and knives. Fear reigned in the school. I wasn't like that and a lot of kids weren't either but there were often gang fights, and I kind of just shut down.

I just kind of had to stay to myself so I didn't get into trouble. The streets were tough; it was an unsafe community. So, in that time frame, I really was not myself and I just withdrew.

My mom was trying to make ends meet, and we were on welfare because of the lawsuit. My dad still tried to work, but as I look back, I can see now that he must have been overwhelmed and at a deeper level possibly depressed. Drinking was part of how he coped.

My mom was Mennonite and my dad was Catholic, but neither were churchgoers. I had a sense of who God is through my Uncle Dick. My dad and Dick were close and when I was born, my dad named me after him. So, when I heard about Christ, I already had a good sense of sin because up until then I was going to the Catholic Church where I was an altar boy and went through catechism. I went on my own.

During this time, I started going to a Good News Club run by a lady named Margaret Moody. I liked the club because it was a safe place, and Miss Moody taught the Bible.

One day, I went home, got on my knees, and asked Jesus to come into my heart.

I knew when I accepted Christ even as a twelve-year-old that I needed to get out of the North End because it just wasn't a good place to be.

Margaret Moody told us that once we became Christians, we should go to a Bible-believing church. So I went to the same church she went to and was a member for 18 years.

My faith began to grow, and I think my Catholic background made me sensitive to God, sin, guilt and confession. I started to become more of an evangelist because that was what I was taught out of the Bible.

I would tell my dad that he had to quit drinking and would tell my mom that she had to come to church, and so my mom started to come. My faith grew strong.

When I went to high school, I started an Inter-School Christian Fellowship club. I found some Christian teachers and students at St. Johns High and we started the first ISCF club in that school. I became more and more involved with ISCF and my leadership skills grew, but in the meantime, I was always praying for my dad. I would be upstairs reading my Bible and the Spirit of God would somehow open my mind and my mouth and I would go down and preach to my dad. He would get angry.

As I look back, I realized that he had been a soldier and he was actually suffering from post-traumatic stress virtually all the years I knew him. He did the best he could with what he had.

He would talk about his war stories, but he had this explosive temper in him that was overwhelming and intimidating. When he yelled, it rattled you right to your bones and felt like your blood would curdle. But I had another Spirit in me, and I was able to stand up to him because I loved him and could confront him.

One time, probably the defining time in my life when I was about 16, I was leaving for camp when my dad lashed out at my mom. I ended up having to fight to get my dad out of the house. He was a rough man, and I don't know what came over me but his violence and intimidation against my mom was just too much for me to bear. I threw him out of the house and locked the door.

Mom was frantically screaming because she knew that what I had just done would incur immediate consequences. I really had no idea what I had stepped into and was not fully aware of the magnitude of his rage, but I had to protect my mom.

Next thing I knew, he smashed the windows in the back. He didn't care if there was blood or cuts; he just went wild and came after me like a raging bull. I knew this wasn't going to get any better.

My mom called the police because she knew this could get ugly. They were at the door greeting him as he came barreling down the hallway. I don't know how they got there that quickly. Only God could have done that.

They arrested and took him away. Mom was fine, and we thought we were fine so I went off to camp.

My dad stayed in jail for three days and then went to detox for a whole month. He quit drinking. For the rest of his life he never drank and my parents' marriage turned around. That confrontation was the catalyst for the change.

After that, my dream came true. My number one prayer was for my dad to quit drinking. After high school I went to university, Bible school and seminary, which was an amazing miracle for me.

Before long I met Edith and we got married and had our first child, James, and moved to British Columbia. While there I worked with Intervarsity Christian Fellowship until I got a call to come back to Winnipeg as the Executive Director of Living Bible Explorers. So, for six years we served with LBE.

Then God called me back to B.C. to become a Baptist pastor in Prince George. After five years as an associate pastor, the Lord challenged me one day in my prayer time. He asked, "Do you really love Me?"

"I love You. I have nothing but You," I replied.

"Do you love Me more than your reputation?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you love Me more than the impact I have allowed you to have in this community?"

"Lord, I love You. I'll do anything."

"Do you love Me enough to give up your job? "OK, when do You want me to give up my job?" I said.

"This Wednesday."

I loved that church; it was a very secure environment. But the Lord was testing me to see if I loved Him more than the security I was enjoying.

I gave up my job and after I resigned, God led me to Winnipeg to Bethlehem Aboriginal Fellowship where pastored for many years.

Moving back to the North End, I realized I had to come to terms with my inner confusion about who I was. I didn't even know I was aboriginal because it was never acknowledged in our family. My dad always said he was French. But I realized that he wasn't just French, he was also Métis.

I had to ask God to forgive me for my embarrassment in acknowledging that I was part Native.

There was a sense of shame and worthlessness that was lurking in me because of who my dad was. I didn't want to face these new feelings in me. I knew I had to be reconciled with who God made me to be.

Three months before my dad died, I told him I was back in Winnipeg working with Aboriginal people. As I shared the work with him, he began to tear up and expressed how proud he was of me. He then confessed, to my great surprise, that all his life he was ashamed to have Indian blood. This was a powerful moment for both of us. I realized then that my inner awkwardness with my Aboriginal roots had come from my father. He then jokingly said to me, "You're the Chief now."