Born Irish, in a family of eight, my early childhood was fulfilled and happy. My father was a colonel in the Irish Army until he retired when I was about nine. As a family, we loved to play, sing, and act, all within a military camp in Dublin.

The Word of God describes Christ’s sheep, before He finds them, as His bitter, obstinately rebellious enemies, without hope, without strength, dead in trespasses and sins, utterly lost, and ruined.  The writer of this testimony is certainly no exception.  “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way” (Isaiah 53:6).

I was troubled when I first read the passage.  “Bel boweth down, Nebo stoopeth, their idols were upon the beasts, and upon the cattle: … They lavish gold out of the bag, and weigh silver in the balance, and hire a goldsmith; and he maketh it a god: they fall down, yea, they worship…  Remember the former things of old: for I am God, and there is none else; I am God, and there is none like me, Declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done, saying, My counsel shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure… yea, I have spoken it, I will also bring it to pass; I have purposed it, I will also do it.  Hearken unto me, ye stouthearted, that are far from righteousness: I bring near my righteousness; it shall not be far off, and my salvation shall not tarry: and I will place salvation in Zion for Israel my glory.”[1]

Hello, my name is Henry Nowakowski.  Let me tell you my life story.[1]  I was born two years before the outbreak of WW II.  Mind you, like everyone else, I had no say whatsoever as to when I would be born, where I would be born, to whom I would be born.  No, the Creator God decided those particulars for me.  It was He who decided I would be born in mid August of 1937 to John and Nellie Nowakowski in Vermilion, Alberta, Canada and not in Australia, Africa, or Algeria.  In fact, if my grandparents on either side of my family had not immigrated to Canada from Poland in the late 1800’s, 1897 to be precise, I might have been born in Poland.  However, it was the Creator God who chose John and Nellie Nowakowski, first generation Canadians of the Nowakowski clan, who were farmers by trade, to be my parents.

You and I have no doubt seen at one time or another a man dressed in a long black or white robe, walking along with his hands folded and with a serene expression on his face.  Our first thought may have been that we were looking at a “ god, dressed like a man,” to use a common expression in some circles.  Actually, it was a Roman Catholic priest, a figure shrouded in mystery.