Friday, May 9, 2008

My Beginning...

My life began in a home with parents who didn’t know the Lord and were each very lost in their own way.  I grew up in a so-called "dysfunctional" family, although I don't know many people who didn't, at least to some degree.

I was about 11 years old when I attended a neighborhood church and heard that Jesus Christ loved me.  I heard that He came for the purpose of dying on the cross to pay for my sins. For a little girl who lived in obscurity in an alcoholic and spiritually darkened home, that was an incredible thought.  I needed to know that someone loved me and to hear that that Someone was the Son of God was astounding.

I asked to be baptized and was reluctantly given permission. I was baptized about a week later, but my life remained unchanged for the next 14 years.  When I left home at the age of 17, my life spiraled downward into a deep, dark pit.

I was married when I was 24 and had my first baby boy at the age of 25. Shortly after his arrival I returned to work at a law office where two of my co-workers were friends from the church they attended. I passed them in halls from time to time and heard them talking about the things going on at their church and something pierced my heart each time.

Now that I had this precious child for whom I was responsible, I felt a need to raise him in the church. I didn't want him growing up in the same madness I had and I thought church was the answer. So I went to one of those women at work one day and asked her what church she attended.

She grabbed a pen and a piece of paper faster than the speed of light and wrote down the address and directions to a Calvary Chapel. I thanked her for it and promptly lost that precious piece of paper. But a week or two later my coworker graciously replaced the information for me.  My husband, our six-month old son and I attended the Sunday morning service a week later.

To say that we went to church that morning does not come near giving justice to what I experienced that day.  Walking through the front doors was like walking from darkness to light, from being lost to being found. The congregation was small at the time, maybe 40 people, but I could feel the thick presence of God. We walked down the aisle to find a seat and it just so happened that we sat next to the coworker who had given me directions.  She and her husband were supposed to be away on vacation that weekend, but for some reason (or should I say Reason) they had decided not to go.

The band began to play and I looked around and saw people who were not just singing, but who were truly worshipping the Lord, hands raised to Him, glorying in that thick Presence Who met us there that day. The tears began to roll down my cheeks and there was no stopping them.

The Lord I had heard loved me all those years before was right there with me in that room.  There was no denying it, my heart was His. The joy I felt in the weeks after I have described before as that wondrous joy you feel as a child on Christmas morning. It was Christmas morning for me every, single day. The gift of eternal life had been given to me and I rejoiced in it. Layers of dirt that I had accumulated in the world were sloughed off and I was a new creation.

My coworker later told me that she had been praying for my family and me for about a year. It wasn't a mistake, a coincidence or just emotion. The Lord had His hand on me all those years and had brought me back to Him. Shortly after my husband received Christ as his Lord, too, as have that baby boy who compelled me to go to church, who is now 22, as well as my other precious guy, who is now 20 years old.

I have now known Jesus as my Lord and Savior for 21 years (or 37 if salvation took place when I first believed and was baptized, only God knows) and still, each day is a new experience in Him as I strive to know Him just a little more than I did the day before.

And so I still feel like I am just beginning...

I am in the process of writing my memoir that tells about the darkness I grew up in, the deep trials and pain I’ve faced and how my faithful Savior never let me go until I was His.  I pray it is a story of hope for hurting parents of wayward teenagers, for those lost teenagers, and for fellow believers who find themselves in a place of suffering, of being heartbroken and in pain.  Our God is indeed a good and faithful God Who will truly never, ever let you go. 


  1. Thanks for sharing your testimony. My husband and I have a 19 yr. old, 15 yr. old and a 6 yr. old. I would love to read your memoir if you have completed it.

    Ruby Pruitt

  2. Hi Ruby,
    That's so sweet of you. I haven't finished the book. God's had me on a detour for a little while. I think I need to learn some things first before I'm able to resume it. But if that's what He wants me to do, I will definitely let you know! You're a precious sister in the Lord.
    Love and blessings,


Thanks for sharing!