Though I Don’T Deserve It, God’S Hand of Protection Watches over Me: My Story

By Arthur Luke

Though I Dont Deserve It, Gods Hand of Protection Watches Over Me: My Story spans sixty-four years in the life of a believer in Jesus Christ, telling how God has watched over him and his family.

Arthur Luke begins with his childhood in Georgia, follows the sojourns of his military family, narrates the key events in his adult life, tells about his stroke, and shares the decision he and his wife, seniors at the time, made to adopt a child. He pairs twenty-four powerful scriptures with the key events in his lifes journey. This potent mixture of personal history and biblical witness demonstrates an enduring truth. With faith in God and obedience to him in your life, his favorhis hand of protectionwill guide you and lead you to offer him praise in all seasons, no matter what happens.

Though I Dont Deserve It, Gods Hand of Protection Watches Over Me: My Story promises to inspire and encourage readers by showing how God works, in accordance with his promises in the scriptures, to guard and guide all who believe in him. This is the story of Arthur Lukes life, but its message applies to all who believe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491781401

Arthur Luke

Arthur Luke, a retired preacher of the gospel, holds a bachelor’s degree in accounting from California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo, and an MBA in financial management from National University in Sacramento. He and Sharon, his wife, have five children and live in Elk Grove, California.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

ROLLING TO CALIFORNIA

I can remember that God was watching over me when I was young. My dad was in the military for over twenty years and was transferred to many places. In 1955 we flew to Munich, Germany, where we stayed for two years.

I was four years old and had to climb the steep stairs to get to our apartment. I would go to the store and get money for returned beer bottles. The snow was so cold, but I still liked playing in it. One day I fell down the stairs while carrying beer bottles, which required stitches. When my dad gave parties at night, I would wake up early and drink the remaining liquid in the bottom of the glass. This was not good to do, but it was what happened.

My mom and dad and their four children journeyed from Columbus, Georgia, to Los Angeles in 1957. I was six years old. On the way to our new home, our station wagon flipped over in a ditch. God’s hands of protection were there with us. No one was hurt, the tow truck turned our car upright, and we continued our journey. We moved into a white brick house at 1650 West Twenty-fourth Street. The residence was only for two years, and we were on the move again to San Miguel, in Central