1. Searching

I was very involved in the occult in my late teens and early 20s. I had my astrological chart cast every year and followed my transits closely. I used numerology to evaluate whether someone I was dating was compatible with me or not. I relied on the i-ching (the casting of coins) to make decisions about what I should do. I was obsessed, afraid to make a move without some entity giving me permission.

I began to feel uneasy about my reliance on the occult. I realized I felt empty inside, as though I had no substance. The first thing I let go of was astrology. That was followed by numerology. It took me longer to stop using the i-ching. I had no idea why it felt so important to end my reliance on them, but I listened.

2. Warned

I still get goosebumps when I remember this one. I grew up in a family impacted by alcoholism (my mom’s) and it plays an important role in this story.

In my mid-30s I experienced symptoms of PMS with each monthly cycle. I asked my doctor if there was anything that could be done to reduce the symptoms. His solution was to write me a prescription for tranquilizers. When it came to filling it, however, I had a strong sense I should not do this. I listened. A few weeks later I threw the prescription away and didn’t think about again for years.

Fast-forward 10 years. My mom had died. As I struggled with grief, I reached out to a cousin to talk. Her mom had been an alcoholic, too, so I knew she’d understand all of the conflicting emotions I was feeling. She loaned me a book that had helped her: “Another Chance” by Sharon Wegscheider Cruse. The book describes what happens in families impacted by alcoholism.

I felt like Helen Keller at the pump with Annie Sullivan! Just as Helen was given the key to understand the world when Annie spelled w-a-t-e-r into her hand, I finally had the key to understand what had happened to my family.

Wegscheider-Cruse described distinct roles family members assume: the enabler, the hero, the scapegoat, the lost child and the mascot. As I read the chapters, I saw myself and my siblings. Our names could have been written on the chapters so accurately were our lives and struggles described. I read these words in the description of my role: prone to work-aholism, migraine headaches and dependency on tranquilizers. I was stunned! I shivered as I remembered the prescription for tranquilizers I’d had in my hand—and the warning not to fill it. What if I hadn’t received it? Or heeded it? How different might my life have been? I was deeply grateful even though I didn’t know where the warning came from.

3. God Comes Knocking

God used a mundane situation on an ordinary day to intercede in my life in a way that only He could.  It happened a couple of years after the discovery of our family roles.

I was reading a world history book during my lunch hour at work, required for a course I was taking via home study to complete my AAS degree in Graphic Design. On this day, I was reading about Martin Luther and the Reformation. I read that Luther believed all people should have a Bible and read/know scripture. I knew instantly I believed this! I felt it body and soul. The Catholic church doesn’t teach this and the only faith instruction I had as a child was through this denomination. Because it was directing me to read the Bible, I knew it had to be God who revealed it to me.

When I got home from work that night, I informed my husband Tom, “Guess what! I am a protestant!” I bought my first Bible and began to read it. We began to talk about finding a church home. But we dallied and four years later, God came knocking again…

4. 9/11

I tell the full story in my post titled “Son Rising” (linked here). I summarize the intercession below.

A few days after the attack, Tom and I attended an evening prayer vigil in Wash Park. As we stood holding hands with strangers, praying, crying, sharing the deep grief we all felt, I again heard from God. He told me that either I received Jesus as my Savior or I didn’t. No middle ground, no picking and choosing what parts of the Bible I believed. When it comes to Jesus, it is yes or no. Did I follow Him? Did I proclaim Him as my Savior to others? I answered, “Yes, Lord, I do.”

Again we talked about finding a church home. And again we dallied. God knocked again, this time only two months later.

5. Head On

Just before Thanksgiving, Tom accepted a day-long work assignment at a branch location of his company. His boss had asked him to take the place of a co-worker who refused to go. As he drove to the location, he crossed a bridge over a culvert and hit ice, losing control of our truck. He found himself on the wrong side of the road, in the path of an oncoming car. He thought his life was over. Just before impact, the tires found pavement and he was able to pull hard to the right. He drove off the road into an enormous Ponderosa pine. It stopped the truck with its long branches, before it reached the tree trunk. The truck was totaled but Tom wasn’t injured. We thanked God, grateful beyond measure that he was okay! We talked again about finding a church home.

But again we dallied. God knocked again two months later…

6. I See

This knock upon the door from God started with a routine eye exam. I recount my experience in my post titled “Why, Jesus?” (linked here). Here I share the moment I ran into the arms of Jesus…

The doctor was testing my peripheral vision and I simply could not see how many fingers he was holding up. This discovery led to a full scale “field of vision” test a day later, which led to a referral to an eye specialist. I had to wait more than a week to get an appointment with the specialist. The specialist would be able to tell me whether the problem was in my eyes or in my brain, whether or not I would lose my sight or, perhaps, my life if the problem was in my brain.

Scared beyond anything I’d ever known, I was on my knees every day praying to God. The specialist decided to scheduled me for an MRI before he would make his final diagnosis. This meant another week waiting for the MRI, then another week waiting for the results.

As I continued to pray to God throughout this tense period of waiting, it finally struck me in my soul that I should be honoring the God I was praying to, by going to His house on Sundays. This is what finally brought us to find our first church home!

As I write these words, more than 20 years have passed since Tom and I found our first church home. Our lives have been forever transformed, blessed beyond measure by God’s persistence in calling us home to Him.