I grew up in a small, southern town in the 70s, attending a small, denominational church most every Sunday - there were days that we slept in, but for the most part, we were faithful attendees. My father was a church leader, my mom served on the altar guild, and I was a dutiful acolyte. I remember going to Sunday school as a little girl, but never once recall opening the Bible until I was a junior in high school - a fact that was a source of embarrassment to me for many years. In fact, I didn't attend my first Bible study until I met my husband in my late 20s - we studied the book of Ruth and I was appalled that I had never even heard of Ruth! By that point, I would have gone to my grave confessing that I was a Christian, but it was purely an intellectual acknowledgement that Jesus was God's Son, died on a cross for my sins, and was resurrected - nothing more. I did not have a trusting belief or faith in Him as my savior from sin, hell, and the grave, and had no acknowledgement of the presence of the Holy Spirit in my life. I didn't even know that was an option! I guess you could say I was well indoctrinated in religion, but was biblically illiterate and totally ignorant when it came to the real power of being a disciple of Jesus and living in accordance with God's Word.
Doubt and the Gnawing Question.
Religion was a bore to me, something I had to endure every Sunday morning until about lunchtime when we would eat a huge meal and nap for several hours. And yet, there was always something gnawing on the inside of me, wondering why everyone put up with this tedious boredom, week after week, year after year, when it clearly had no impact on anyone's life, including the pastor's. No one's relationships improved due to church, no one was healed from sickness and disease, no one was delivered from calamity, etc., no real answers to life's problems were given, and still the gnawing continued. Was there something we were missing? Was there something more? Was God really real?
God uses a Ouija Board.
It wasn't until a relative of mine brought home a Ouija board one Christmas, that I got an answer to that question. (Caution - I do not condone the use of the Ouija board or occult paraphernalia by anyone! They are an abomination to God, extremely dangerous and should be removed from your home immediately!) Who would've thought that a piece of cardboard and a plastic dial made by Parker Brothers could be used by God? But it was. At that time, I had no real belief in the spiritual world, other than a cautious acknowledgement that it might exist and I best not mess with it. Ghost stories, horror movies, and half-baked seances at summer camp were about as far as I had gone in this area. But this time, I saw something supernatural with my own eyes that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt was evil and of the devil - and I didn't even believe in the devil! Nevertheless, my intellect accepted what I had seen, logic took over, and a still, small voice spoke this in my mind - The devil is real . . . and if the devil is real, then God must be real too! And indeed He is!
Doubt and the Gnawing Questions Continue.
Of course a one time experience with the Ouija board wasn't enough to convert my soul and get me into a church on a regular basis - but marriage and three kids was. Being a good, southern "Christian girl," I had to make sure my children where indoctrinated into the boredom of religion, lest they miss out on all that I was exposed to, including the empty trappings of Christmas and Easter - I mean, where else could my little girls wear their frilly dresses and shiny, patent-leather Mary Janes, other than church?
I was in my mid-thirties now, had concluded a quasi-successful career as a corporate attorney in Chicago, was now living a posh expatriate life in London with a husband and three wonderful kids - and I was miserable. I realized I had no true purpose in living. Was it all about diapers, baby bottles, parties, exercising and staying slim after giving birth three times within three years? Waves of panic would rush over me as I drove the carpool or made my way to Safeway for a weekly grocery run - would I die and go to heaven and only have this to show for it? I had no idea that I had fallen smack, dab into the middle of a sure-fire mid-life crisis.
A Temporary Fix.
Writing was my answer, and I quickly embarked on the task of becoming a successful screenwriter, taking every class that I could find at the University of London. I got into a writer's group and made some wonderful friends who resurrected my shallow social life and filled my need for intellectual, stimulating conversation. I coupled this with frequent trips to the London theater, and found that a new-found hope chased the fears away. Perhaps I would become a famous writer, win awards and accolades from my peers, and then I could say my life had meaning. Some days I acutally believed this to be true - it would happen, it would! - and then other days, the fear would come back, pounding on my heart, warning me that it was all a dream.
God Answers.
I was desperate. I blamed my husband for my unhappiness, I blamed my friends, our house wasn't nice enough, we didn't make enough money, etc. . . . nothing was ever good enough or rich enough or thin enough. Nothing was perfect, and perfection was my desire. Of course, I didn't miss a Sunday at church with my sweet children dressed in their Laura Ashley clothes and matching hats and shoes. I loved the pastor and his wife and I know they were praying for me, but it was all just a huge bore - every bit of it - the sermons, the hymns, the formality of the service.
I will never forget one Sunday morning I was feeling especially sorry for myself, mulling over all the imperfections in my mind (mostly regarding my sweet husband - praise God he has forgiven me!) and I got a revelation, like I stepped out of my body for a moment and looked around at everyone with heads bowed singing another dull hymn. I had had it! I had reached my limit! "Why are these people here?" I asked. "Why aren't they sipping coffee and reading the paper, or sleeping in under a comfy quilt? What is it they know that I don't?" Looking up at the huge cross on the wall, I cried out in my spirit with tears flooding my eyes - THERE'S GOT TO BE SOMETHING MORE THAN THIS, GOD! THERE'S GOT TO BE SOMETHING MORE!
God had me right where He needed me, right where He had been wanting me to come all this time - so He could reveal Himself. I had come to the end of me and my way of doing things and I had cried out for Him to manifest Himself in my life. And He did!
ALPHA.
Within a week, I had signed up for my first in depth bible study class that promised to change my life. God knew I needed changes more than anyone, so I didn't hesitate a moment to put my name on the list. The class was entitled ALPHA, and was a video/workbook taught by Nicky Gumble out of Holy Trinity Brompton in London, England. Basically, it was a three month Christian boot camp where religion is purged out and the basic tenets of the faith are introduced - a crash course on all the things I should've learned years ago. My pastor and his sweet wife hosted the study in their home and indulged every single doubt-filled, skeptical, liberal-minded question my agnostic, heathen brain could ask - and they did it with love. But despite all of my doubts and questionings, I found that I loved it - I was like a sponge, soaking in every word coming from the teaching, wanting more - actually looking forward to the next week's study. No one had ever explained Jesus, God, and the Bible to me in such a simple, straightforward, clear way before. I was amazed at how the scales were falling away from my spiritual eyes, and I was beginning to see that "something more" I had asked God for.
An Introduction to the Holy Spirit.
At the end of our three month study, we were invited to a one day retreat, called a Holy Spirit Day Away. I had no idea what I was in for, as I had no idea who or what the Holy Spirit was. Wasn't that just something we recited in church all of those years? But I came with an open heart and mind, and God did not disappoint. A precious, fiery British lady led the class - she had been a nonbeliever who was miraculously saved from a fatal car accident. Her leg had been badly crushed, but she felt no pain while trapped in the car, due to what she described as "warm arms of love" wrapped around her. The doctors told her she would never walk again, but a group of Christians laid hands on her leg in the hospital and she was miraculously healed, preaching the Gospel now all over England. What a lady she was! I'll never forget her. She taught us about the Holy Spirit indwelling the believer, filling up the spirit of man like the whoosh of a hot radiator, and baptizing with the power of God from on high.
After the teaching, she invited us to raise our hands and ask the Holy Spirit to come into us, filling us and baptize us. I had been weeping all during the teaching for some strange reason, and was open to whatever God wanted to do with me. I raised my hands up to the ceiling and closed my eyes, praying along with this precious lady, when something glorious happened.
An Electric Jolt.
I felt it - it started at the tip of my fingers and jolted down my arms like an electric current. Immediately, I put my arms down to my sides (I wish I hadn't!!) I was scared, but excited all the same! I had a flash of a vision in my mind, like a curtain being pulled away, revealing a world hidden behind it. There was Jesus sitting on His throne, and He was real. "This is real," I said to myself. "This is really real . . . and Jesus is alive!"
Here again, God was showing me supernatural manifestation that could not be denied. And I witnessed much, much more that day. It was just like the book of Acts in that room. People were prophesying and having visions, falling to the floor, praying in tongues like on the day of Pentecost - it was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen! This kind of church wasn't boring at all - this was life! This was thrilling! This is the way it's supposed to be!
A Changed Life.
I couldn't stop smiling. I had a giggly excitement in my throat, and I couldn't wait to tell my husband all that had happened. Bless him, as he was a bit skeptical, but supportive (he is no longer a skeptic now!). But it wasn't skeptical to me - it was real. Now I couldn't wait for Sunday mornings - I wanted more than anything to get into Bible study. We were studying the book of James, and I devoured every word. I still had my questions, but they were probing and insightful, not doubting and questioning. I vowed to read the whole Bible, cover to cover and understand it! People noticed a change and commented. Several mature ladies in church told me they could see the Holy Spirit all over me. Praise God, I was a new person!
My writing changed over night. I no longer wanted to tell worldly, secular stories, but had a burning desire to write stories that glorified God and His Word. I knew Hollywood would not be receptive to what I was doing, but I wrote them anyway out of obedience. I took more writing classes, read books on the craft, and wrote one script after another, finally winning one of the coveted Kairos Awards for inspirational screenplays in 2008. Little did I know, but God was preparing me to write novels, and in 2009 I signed a 2 book deal with Thomas Nelson Publishing.
A Lasting Change.
I have taught bible study for over six years now in my home, and it is a privilege and honor. I love studying the Word, as it has changed my life in so many ways. I know my purpose now and the fear has no place in me. Faith has replaced it, and I am excited about all God is doing in and through me. I do not have perfection, but I have the Perfect One living inside of me! Praise God! That's good news, isn't it?
Does my testimony sound similar to yours? Come study with us, and you will find that God will do the same thing for you that He did for me. He will manifest Himself to you and show you that He is real - and He is!
