Paul A. Lindberg

A Brief Autobiography of the Author

I was born in 1947 just after the War. My parents were zealous Christians going to Seminary and preparing for the Mission Field. We first went to China, but in 1951 had to leave because of the Communist crackdown on missionaries. In 1954 we returned to the Orient, this time to the Island of Formosa off the coast of China. I loved it there, both the land and the gentle, kind Oriental people. This was to have some impact on my life, as you shall see.

In my teenage years we returned from the mission field and my parents started an Orthodox Presbyterian church in the Seattle area. I was only 17 when a Japanese family came to visit; missionaries from the Orient on furlough. It was clearly God’s leading that I fell in love with their oldest daughter. Six years later, right after my tour of duty in the Vietnam War, I married her. She has been God’s blessing to me ever since. I could not have written these volumes, indeed I could not have accomplished much of anything in my life, without her faithful love and support.

During my 18 years as a Boeing Engineer and while raising three lovely children, God was teaching me how to know His voice. My Godly parents had raised me with the firm knowledge that I belong to God, and I don’t recall ever doubting that. But that was just the first step. I was twelve when I first became aware of, and dealt with, my own sinfulness. But it really wasn’t until I was about 30 that I began to realize that God is much more than a Genie in the sky who protects me and grants me wishes. He wants a relationship. He wanted me to grow up, stop playing games with my life and learn to know Him. He wanted me to learn to obey His voice, learn to appreciate His majesty and authority, and really learn to worship Him.

So it was out of the comfortable Presbyterian churches we had been attending, and into a wild and woolly Pentecostal church, where everyone spoke in tongues and prophesied and worshiped up a storm in services that sometimes went on for hours. We both hated it; never felt so uncomfortable in our lives. God almost had to drag us back there every Sunday for a whole year. There was another church closer to our home; I literally pled with God for permission to make it our home church. But He said no, and we were learning to listen to His voice. Every Sunday when we would pray for direction, God would tell us, “Go back to Maranatha Chapel today.” We obeyed. We still hated the rowdy services, the wild (and too loud) music, and the boisterous people. But we were learning to love the preaching of the Word of God. It was no longer a detached intellectual theology, but a life-changing spiritual journey, and we were on it. The Word came alive to us; no longer just something to understand, but something to be and do, something God wanted us to live.

The turning point in my life came one day when I was praying and fasting about some burdens I carried. God Himself came and spoke to me, as clearly as I’m speaking to you, and I knew I’d never be the same again. He first quoted back to me a verse I’d learned as a child: Matt 11:28-30. “Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and ye shall find rest for your souls; for My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.” I waited, listening, but He had stopped. So I responded, “OK, Lord, but I already knew that one.” Still nothing more. Finally, just to try to keep the conversation going, I asked, “What is Your yoke, Lord?”

His response was instant and powerful. “My yoke is my love for My people. If you will carry it, I will carry all your other burdens.” I was shaken. I managed a weak, “Yes, Lord!” but He was not through. “Go! Love My people at Maranatha Chapel!” He thundered. The interview was over. God “set us into the body as He desired” that week, and poured out upon both my wife and me a deep love for His people at Maranatha Chapel. Soon we experiencing the most joyous worship in our lives, and maturing spiritually at breathtaking speed. I would never be the same again.

For seven years God had us in this spiritual “nursery,” learning to know His voice and follow wherever His Holy Spirit leads. It was glorious, truly a baptism into the nature and character of God and an immersion into His ways. Our Presbyterian baptism (I was sprinkled as an infant) was no longer enough. Now we were really baptized (immersed). Now the focus of my life changed. “For all who are being led by the Spirit of God, these are the sons of God.” (Rom 8:14) I went through their “School of Prophets” training, like a spiritual “seminary.” Now my greatest delight was to hear and obey the inner promptings of the Holy Spirit.

Of course I prayed for the gift of tongues – the real one, not some mindless babble of baby noises. I never really received it, though God gave me enough to confirm that the spiritual gifts of 1 Corinthians 12 are still available to those who seek. But God had a better gift for me. I got my first computer in about 1978, and He told me to sit down and write. My first book, Come Quickly, Lord Jesus, was the result. It is now out of print and obsolete (I was sure the “Second Coming” would be within the next five years), but it was good training for me.

In 1984 the Lord led us to leave Maranatha Chapel. A pastor and his lovely family came to live next to us, and we were led to support his new ministry at a nearby Baptist church. He was on fire for God and filled with love for the Holy Scriptures and all that God was doing to bring revival to the little congregation there. This was an exciting time, as we prayed, encouraged, and saw them growing in every way. For the first time, this little congregation was seeing God working in a personal and powerful way in their midst. God had His church back!

Sadly, the elders there weren’t willing to give it up. They first threw me out, for believing in the gifts of the Spirit and suggesting that someone with a sick grandchild should go to the elders to ask for prayer for healing in accord with James 5:14-15. (They told me that miracles had passed away with the first century apostles; now we have doctors instead.) Later they threw out our pastor, too. Within a year, that church was gone. They disbanded and sold the building to another congregation.

In 1988 I left Boeing for a homeschooling tour of the country with my family. But instead of returning after the trip was over, the Lord told me to “work for Him.” I began writing nearly full time. The Lord always provided enough other jobs to pay the bills, such as some computer consulting, editing, and book publishing, and a part time job with Provident Electric, developing a computerized estimating system.

My next major work was The Gospel of the Kingdom. It is a delightful little childlike primer portraying a young Christian just sitting at the feet of Jesus asking questions, and recording His answers. After that, I spent a year compiling, editing, rewriting, and publishing Brother J. Preston Eby’s Kingdom Bible Study series on The Seven Spirits of God, a wonderfully deep and profound series of sermons in End-Time Revelation.

For a year or two we had church at home with a group of like-minded friends. It was good, and profitable for all, but I had a young family, and my kids needed the interaction of a regular congregation. We began visiting all the churches in the area and made it a family project to pray together about each one. The Lord led us to a Southern Baptist church, where we have remained since about 1992. Not surprisingly, our pastor friend and his family joined there too after being thrown out of the other church. It was pretty small back then, but it has since grown into a vibrant, loving congregation, eager to hear and do God’s will in the community.  While there I wrote a booklet on health (and actually taught an adult class on health) and another on the Kingdom of God (again, teaching an adult class on it).

In 1998, after my class on the Kingdom, I began to write a new adult class study on the Feasts of Israel. This turned into a major study on the entire Old Testament. It quickly became far bigger than just an adult class, as I discovered how little we all know about the Old Testament, and how much that impacts our understanding of the New! I realized that we Christians held onto a false picture of the Bible story, so I began re-writing that, too, not realizing what a huge undertaking that would be.

Now, 14 years and about 25,000 hours later, my life work is complete. I’ve recently retired, and am developing a website where anyone can go to read my books. I call it “God’s Plan of the Ages.com” since the Feasts of Israel, more clearly than anything, reveal God’s master plan of redemption throughout the ages of time.

PERSONAL TESTIMONY

I was born a Christian, or so I thought, as my parents were good Christians and I’d always been a good, obedient child. However, when I was twelve I had a supernatural experience which has changed my life. I was sitting back in church when the preacher gave the “altar call.” Of course I didn’t need to raise my hand, as I was already a Christian. Imagine my surprise when I looked sideways and saw my hand raised! I yanked it down, but it was too late – the preacher had seen me. After church I tried to slip out, but the preacher caught me and asked if I’d like him to pray with me. I told him he didn’t need to, as I was already a Christian.

“Well,” he responded, “Let’s pray again together just to be sure.” So I prayed with him, telling God I was sorry for my sin and asking Jesus to come into my heart and forgive me. At the time, nothing happened, and I was just glad to escape. But as I walked home I began thinking about it. I realized that although I had asked God for many things before, I’d never asked him for forgiveness, as I didn’t consider myself a sinner. I was the “good boy!” Suddenly I was overwhelmed with all the ways I had grieved God – my pride and self-centeredness, my selfish, greedy, covetous attitudes toward all my stuff, my unkindness and lack of compassion for others, some “little” lies and some stuff I’d stolen from the dime store – more and more things flooded my mind. I began to cry.

I was still crying when I got home. My godly parents saw, but recognized it as a work of God and thankfully backed off and didn’t try to interfere. For two weeks I cried, day and night, at school, on the bus – I cried myself to sleep each night and woke up still crying. My whole world had turned upside down. Before it had always been “the other guy,” but suddenly I was the one who was damned to hell if I didn’t get right with God! I pled with God for forgiveness, but only felt more wicked. I re-read all the promises of God’s blessing in the Bible that had once comforted me, but now I saw that they applied only to those who are forgiven, not to “sinners” like myself. I was desperate. I cried out, “God, if You’re there, please give me a sign that You’ve forgiven me!”

Suddenly with that prayer – peace. Joy. Assurance. Not just God’s forgiveness but His love flooded my soul. God instantly transformed my wicked, deceitful, self-centered heart into a heart that truly loves what He loves and hates what He hates. I’ve not always been perfect since then, indeed I had many more lessons on what it means to walk in “the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.” (Psalm 23:3) But like a good Shepherd, He has led me, and from that day to this I have never entertained the slightest doubt that I belong to Him, that He loves me, and that He has a place for me in His eternal Kingdom.