Because you asked, I am providing my response to questions about my relationship with God.
In January 1988, I was 25 years old. Married for five years, my mother gone (breast cancer) since March 1983.
My then-husband and I were going to see Robin Williams in Good Morning, Vietnam with another couple. While traveling to the movie theater together, the three of them started talking about the Second Coming of Christ as if everyone knew about it. Not being raised in the church, I had never heard of such a thing.
I asked the wife of the couple what in the world they were discussing, and she replied that Christ would one day return to the Earth at the Second Coming. She said she could give me a book to read that would explain it all. She later gave me a copy of Hal Lindsey’s Late Great Planet Earth.
Interested in what my husband (raised in the church) and our friends knew that I didn’t, I dove into the book. I did not get far, however, because the topic was dry and dull, so I put the book aside and went on about my life.
Three weeks later, I was out of a job, and needed to get a resume printed up. (Boys and girls, this was when you took a typewritten copy of your resume to a print shop. There, you picked out paper, font type, and envelopes because YIKES! you had to search for a job using newspapers and the telephone, and then you mailed your resume to potential employers.)
I chose a random printer that was nearby and took my typewritten resume to the shop. I picked out the paper I liked (flecks in the paper, always flecks) as well as the font, and soon the sales lady was telling me all about the Second Coming of Christ!
As you can imagine, having an absolute stranger broach such a topic with me, with such boldness, truly shook me. I reasoned to myself that if “everyone” was obviously talking about this, I really needed to get it figured out.
So, I picked up The Late Great Planet Earth once again and started reading where I’d left off. Annddd I got somewhat further into it before it became too dry to choke down. Ugh.
I tried, though. For a week or two. I really did.
But, boring books aside, life went on. It was now early February, and the Midwest was experiencing one of those 60+ days that we now call “False Spring”. The sun was shining, the wind was soft and warm, and the weekend stretched out before my husband and me.
“Let’s get our bikes out and go for a ride,” my husband suggested. Ever the extrovert to my introvert, he added, “We can ride down to Craig and Mary’s house and talk with them.”
“Are you kidding?” I replied. “We don’t know them. She was my childhood friend, and now we see each other maybe at weddings and funerals.”
This was a ludicrous thought. To go to someone’s house whom you hadn’t had a real conversation with in years? Are you nuts? No, thank you!
“Okay,” he responded. “I’ll make you a deal. We will ride down there, and if they are out, we will stop to visit, but if they aren’t, we won’t go up to their door or anything. We will just ride on past.”
That seemed like a good compromise. The chances of them being home??? Being outside???
“Deal,” I said, and off we went.
They were outside. Craig was in the driveway with his head in the engine of a Camaro, and Mary was playing with their two little boys in the front yard.
This meant we had to stop. I was good on my word, so we stopped.
My husband went to talk with Craig, and I trudged up the hill in the front yard to see Mary.
Through the course of a 20-minute visit, Mary invited me to meet her and the boys for lunch at a McDonald’s PlayPlace later that week. Since I was still out of work, I agreed, and with that, my husband and I left for home.
A few days later, I met Mary for lunch. During our time together, out of the blue, she invited me to go to church with Craig and her. The invitation took me totally by surprise, and I agreed to go with them the next Sunday, without actually thinking it through.
I went home and would later tell my husband that going to church was the last thing I wanted to do. I believed in “God” to a degree. As a small child, I realized there must be something greater than mankind. I saw trees grow and blossom, and I knew my dad or mom couldn’t create a tree from scratch, so it made sense to me that there was something bigger than me in the universe.
As Sunday drew near, I decided to call Mary and make up an excuse for not being able to go to church with her. She was polite and said to let her know if I changed my mind. I didn’t see that ever happening.
The following week, Lacie, our five-year-old Tabby cat (and the center of our lives), got sick. She was keeping nothing down. She was sick backwards and forwards, and we knew after a day or two that we needed to get her seen by her vet.
Dr. Carey ran test after test. Mind you, this was 1988, and we ran up a vet bill in the hundreds of dollars, all of which provided absolutely no answers as to what was wrong with our pet.
I don’t remember how long she was in the pet hospital. They were giving her fluids to keep her hydrated and doing all they could to try to help her. Every test, every X-ray, every blood panel came back negative. They had nothing to offer.
The phone call came later that week. I answered, and it was the Vet. He said he was sorry. There was nothing else he could do. Lacie was failing, and I needed to get into his office soon to say goodbye, or it would be too late.
I hung up the phone and leaned against the wall. Tears were flowing down my cheeks. My knees buckled, and I slumped to the floor, crying out to God. I told Him I knew He was there. I told Him I knew He could heal Lacie if He wanted to, and then I told Him I would go to church with Craig and Mary if only He would heal her.
Still crying, I picked up the phone and I called Mary. All I said was that I had changed my mind and that I would go to church with them next Sunday.
I went back to that book by Hal Lindsey, and I finished it. Still dull and dry, but near the end of the book was something called The Sinners’ Prayer. I figured that since Christ’s Second Coming was so close, it wouldn’t hurt to give my heart to Jesus and ask Him to save me from what was to come. I prayed that prayer. All alone. Just me and God, in my basement, in February 1988. And I went to church the very next Sunday with Mary and her family.
The next week, the vet’s office called again. They had news. A change in Lacie’s condition. They didn’t know why. They didn’t know what. All they knew was that she was better. They wanted to keep her another day or two, to be sure, but she was getting better!
And that is how she came to be called The Miracle Kitty every single time she went to the vet for the next 16 years of her life. (She lived to be 21.) The vet even asked me if I was worried Lacie would have the same unexplainable illness befall her again. I said no, not a chance.
To wrap up my story, a few weeks later, I visited a Christian bookstore to buy a Bible. I asked the salesperson to show me the cheapest KJV Bible they sold. They looked at me funny, and I said, “I don’t want to spend a lot on it, because I’m not sure it’s going to be something I stick with.” But I have.
Mary and I became close friends. Months later, she shared that before we ever reconnected, God had been laying me on her heart, asking her to tell me about Him. She said she responded that we didn’t even really know each other anymore, and she asked Him how in the world she would ever be able to reach out to me. Mary now says that when she saw me pedal down her street that warm February day, she knew exactly what she was supposed to do (tell me about Jesus), and she did.
This was the beginning of an amazing relationship with God. There are so many ways He has shown Himself to me over the past 38 years. My husband left me five years later, because he was raised Christian and didn’t want to live his adult life as a Christian. But God brought a like-minded man my way a few years later, and we married and have a wonderful family. Life in general isn’t all flowers and chocolates, as you well know. But God is there through it all. And that is my prayer for you.
I wrote this and am going to share its location in my comment on theatlantic’s post for anyone who wants to know how God reached out to me. He reaches out to each of us, though in different ways, as we are all unique, and our situations are unique.
I will say the Bible I was directed to back in 1988 was the KJV 1611, and it is my absolute favorite Bible version. If you decide to pick up a Bible, I encourage you to start reading in the Book of John. Proverbs and the Psalms are wonderful places for seekers to begin as well.
Here is an example of The Sinners’ Prayer, in case you are interested:
Dear Lord Jesus, I know that I am a sinner, and I ask for Your forgiveness. I believe You died for my sins and rose from the dead. I turn from my sins and invite You to come into my heart and life. I want to trust and follow You as my Lord and Savior. In Your Name I pray. Amen.
If you prayed that prayer, I encourage you to seek out a local body of believers so that you can learn more about God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, and grow in your relationship to Him.
God bless you.
Sincerely,
Sandy/gracefulnestdecor
