I ’ve been thinking about some special people, those who had the right word for me just when I needed it.
     The first was Mrs. Adams, my steadfast math teacher from 7th through 12th grade in our little high school. In my senior year, she asked what I was going to do after graduation. I said I was considering an electronics tech school. She gave me a frown, responding, “You need to go to college, not a trade school. Apply to the University. You could get a scholarship.” She saw my mouth open with surprise, and then added, “You’d better be careful about that girlfriend, too. You know what happened to ----.” He was a well-known student who married immediately after graduation, a couple of years earlier. By summertime, I had lost interest in my girlfriend, and I was heading to the University.
     The next year, at the University of Minnesota, I was studying physics and math intensely, but I was beginning to revise my goals. I was thinking of a Bible college in California run by a Rev. Armstrong, who said all other churches “had it wrong.” I was impressed. Fortunately, I had become acquainted with the senior advisor of our dorm floor, John Powell. He was a senior in a five-year engineering program, and I respected him. One day, he listened as I explained that when the term ended, I would be leaving the University. After a few months’ break, I would probably head west to Ambassador College in California. His face pinched skeptically. “Stan, I’m from California. And I’ll tell you, there are a lot of nut cakes out there. Besides that, I am an atheist. I don’t believe in God, but I think you will be much better off if you choose a college affiliated with your family’s church. Go study the Bible there first. Get educated. You can always go to California later, if you still want to.” That is exactly what I did, and as he expected, I did not go to California.
     Before getting to Hope College, however, while I worked in a lab for Pillsbury, I met Marv Soderberg. Like John, he was a fifth-year senior, but living in the rooming house I moved to after leaving the U. One day, he noticed I was reading the Bible. With his own mild manner, he asked how it was going. He learned I was searching for guidance and simply assured me, “God will speak to you through the Bible.” He became a very good friend. He said those words just as confidently as if one might say, “When you read the newspaper, you will learn something.”
     After graduating from Hope College, I married my college sweetheart and pursued graduate study at Western Theological Seminary, still driven by my spiritual curiosity. When I was in my third/senior year there, I cautiously told Dr. John Piet that I wasn’t interested in becoming a minister, the way it seemed all the other students were. I told him about a cross-cultural program that could enable my wife and me to live in India for 2 years. The program would expect us to study academically and live among ordinary Indian people, with minimal, bare-bones support. We might live in Calcutta (Kolkata) and study at Jadavpur University. He broke into a broad smile and said, “That’s great! I will give you the names of a couple of friends there who you will want to meet.” His encouraging words propelled us into those two years, which reshaped both of us deeply.
     But some things don’t last. Ten years later, I was the pastor of a church in Peoria, and my wife and I were struggling. Counseling seemed to get us nowhere, but I remained hopeful that change was just around the corner. Talking by phone to my best friend who lived a hundred miles away, I described our struggles. After a few moments, he said quietly, “Stan, I know you want that, but I can tell you, from talking with ----, (my wife), you need to accept that it isn’t going to work. You need to let it go.” His gentle assessment allowed me to turn that corner, sadly, but with more confidence.
     After our divorce and a move to Michigan, I began to envision a future with Herman Miller, the widely admired furniture company. By some fluke of good fortune, I had become the shipping department training and safety coordinator. At the same time, I volunteered to work with Brook Stephens, a pastor in Grand Rapids. After a few weeks of working together, he simply said to me, “Stan, you belong in ministry.” That’s all he said. Not long after, when the opportunity came, I experienced the satisfaction he had predicted with his knowing smile. Those next seven years were exciting as I developed an organization connecting hundreds of divorced and single individuals, proving Brooks’ statement true. During that period, I also met and married Mary Ann.
     The time came when I felt I needed to move on to a different kind of ministry. I was tired of fund raising and administrative duties. I was seeking a change of pace. Perhaps I could work on the staff of one of the larger churches in the GR area. I was telling Jim Haveman my story one day. He was the head of the Kent County Community Mental Health Program and a member of our Advisory Council. I explained I was unsure how to present myself as I sought work. I was anxious. After a while, he cocked his head and said, “You know, Stan, you might find it’s a lot more fun to be a big frog in a little pond than a little frog in a big one.” That led me to become the pastor of Saranac Community Church in the small town of the same name. It became one of the most delightful and fulfilling chapters of my life. Early in that period, I also completed my Doctor of Ministry degree.
     More than a decade later, I was seeking to retire at 62. I received a call from Jim Brownson, the dean of faculty at Western Theological Seminary. He reminded me that Stan Rock, who taught pastoral care and counseling, would be taking early retirement due to declining health. Jim said he would like me to serve as an interim professor in the department Dr. Rock was leaving. It would fit well with my retirement schedule. I said hesitantly, “Jim, you know, I am not an academic.” He chuckled a bit and replied, “I know that. But you can do this job. Stan believes you are ready for it, and I do, too.”
     That was not to be the last wise word that would shape my life and transitions, but it is the last for this article. Perhaps there are occasions for each of us to bring the right word to someone just when they need it.

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