When I was born in 1925, my parents were Lutherans who faithfully attended church. My five siblings had been baptized as infants, yet my parents were not born again Christians. In the late 1930s, however, after hearing the gospel in a special evangelistic meeting, my father was saved. I still remember his first testimony. He stood up in church and said, “I am a sinner. God knows it, so the rest of you might as well know it too.” A few years later my mother and oldest sister had the same experience of salvation.

CONVERSION
Our church didn’t have any youth group, so after confirmation most of us pretty much went our own way. As a teenager dealing with peer pressure, wanting to be somebody, feeling the lure of the world—these were very difficult years for me. I wore a smile on the outside that didn’t picture my true feelings on the inside. I feared God to death. I was not prepared for eternity. I thought going deeper into sin might erase the turmoil within. My church attendance became irregular and nearly ceased.

At that time, however, the Lord called again through some special meetings to which I was invited. I thought, “I’ll go, then make a quick exit after the service.” I don’t remember the message that night, but the invitation song gripped me—“Almost persuaded… almost, but lost.” It seemed that the Lord and the devil were battling for my soul. I felt that this might be God’s last call to me. I prayed the simple prayer: “God be merciful to me a sinner.” The Lord had won! But then followed two days where I felt I was in “no man’s land.” I didn’t feel like I belonged to the Lord and I didn’t want to go back to the devil and the life I was living. Two nights later on December 5, 1942, the evangelist preached on Matthew 9:2— “Son, be of good cheer, your sins are forgiven you.” This became my assurance of salvation.  God was now my father and I was his child. There was a sudden change. I had tried the “rest,” now I would try the “best.”

I found my Bible, wiped the dust off it, and started to read it again. I did so, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. What we studied in the catechism also became alive and real to me.

CONSCRIPTION
In the early 1940s came World War II. Over ten million young men were called up, and some women also volunteered to help defend our liberty and the free world. When our numbers came up, we went. When young men left for service from our community, the local American Legion gave each one a New Testament, complete with a metal front cover. The idea was that if worn over the heart this would protect you! I also had my Bible with me.

I took my Infantry Basic Training at Camp Joseph T. Robinson just north of Little Rock, Arkansas. We lived in simple shacks without windows. They did have screens and shutters. One night when the shutters were open, it rained, and my Bible got wet. The pages were discolored, but still readable.

In December 1944, the German Army counterattacked in Belgium and pushed the Allies back for a while. It was “The Battle of the Bulge.” Because our forces over there needed infantry replacements, our seventeen-week basic training was cut to fifteen. We were given a six-day delay for a short visit home before reporting to Fort Meade, Maryland.

There, in a gym packed with G.I.s, a lecturing officer plainly told us, “You are going over and some of you are not coming back.” At this, each one looked at the man next to him, thinking, “He must mean you and not me.” Seeing our reaction, the speaker added, “I knew this is what you would do.” He warned that from now on our letters home would be censored, so we must not write anything that might benefit the enemy if it fell into their hands.

There followed a full field inspection. We dumped everything out of our duffle bags. We could each take only eight pounds of personal belongings, including washcloth, two towels, toothbrush and paste, and shaving kit. Besides these permissible belongings, I had my Bible. When the inspector, a young Second Lieutenant, saw this, he asked, “What do you intend to do with that?” “I plan to take it with me,” I replied. He then told me that I should send it home. When he went on to the next person, I wrapped my Bible in a towel and put it back in my duffle bag.

Our next stop was at Camp Miles Standish—near Boston, for a final field inspection. My Bible showed up again and it seemed even bigger than before. This time our inspector was a staff sergeant. He asked the same question. I gave the same response. Then he said, “Good deal. Take it with you.”

COMBAT and SPIRITUAL CONFLICT
With 7,000 other doughboys bound for Europe, we boarded a former luxury liner, the Wakefield. The conversion from luxury liner to troop carrier was 100%. There wasn’t a bit of luxury left in it. We were stacked five high and rubbing elbows with our seasick neighbors.

So I had my Bible with me in basic training, through inspections, across the stormy north Atlantic, through England, France, Germany, and deep into the heart of Austria. Here, on May 6, 1945, our 71st Division, having penetrated the farthest east of any American unit, met the Russian army coming from the east on the River Enns near the town of Styr. Squeezed between us, however, were Hitler’s elite shock troopers, who made a last-ditch stand. We suffered our heaviest casualties of the war that day. I was never wounded, but I saw shrapnel cut the grass around my feet. This was close enough.

May 8 was V.E. Day (Victory in Europe). There was celebration back home, but for us simply relief that the fighting had ended. It was a time of spiritual darkness and discouragement for me after seeing the loss of life on both sides. I concluded that the gospel is the only solution for real peace in this world, and committed my life to help spread the good news of Jesus.

The war was over in Europe, but not in Asia. So we were put on the rifle range. We heard rumors that we would cross Russia in trucks and attack Japan from the west. Fortunately, the war in Asia ended, so this rumored trek across eleven time zones never materialized. (I never imagined then that my wife and I would later go with other Lutheran Brethren volunteer “soldiers of the cross” to establish a spiritual “beachhead” along the Japan Sea coast in Yamagata and Akita prefectures in Japan.)

CALLED
After serving in the Army of Occupation and being discharged in August 1946, I entered the Lutheran Brethren Bible School in Fergus Falls, Minnesota. This was a culture shock in adjusting from army life, where we had seen the ravages of war, starvation, suffering, death and sin in the raw. However, I enjoyed the fellowship and learning from teachers who were in tune with God.

After graduating from the Bible department in 1948, I spent on year at an Indian Mission in North Dakota, mainly helping to construct a children’s home. The following year I returned to seminary, graduating in 1951. This was followed by one year of internship at Elim Lutheran Church near Osakis, Minnesota.

My wife Evie and I both felt called to be missionaries in Japan. After our marriage in 1952, we served there from 1954 to 1989. Returning to the States, we started an outreach to Japanese people in the Seattle area. Our son Roger and his wife Susan, who had also been missionaries in Japan, took over the Seattle outreach in 2004.

CONCLUSION
Now that I have shared God’s mercy to me in life, I can go back and complete the title of this article.

The Psalmist asks and gives the answer to a relevant question in Psalm 119:9, “How shall a young man cleanse his way?” The answer is, “By taking heed according to your word…” Then in verse 11, “Your word”—a GOOD POSSESSION—“I have hidden in my heart”—a GOOD PLACE—“that I might not sin against thee”—for a GOOD PURPOSE.

Rev. James Olson is retired and living with his wife Evelyn in Shoreline, WA.

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