Sunday, March 11, 2007

How Jesus found me . . .

I grew up in a pretty crazy alcoholic family. My parents were drinking so heavily by the time I entered junior high that I turned to drugs to escape the insanity of my home. By the time I was 15, I'd escalated to injecting heroin. My best friend and I made a pact to try every high known to man and then overdose on our 18th birthdays.
Quite the life plan . . .
God, however, had other plans for my life and intervened when I was sixteen.
One day when I was hitchhiking in the rain, a young man picked me up and took me out to lunch. He had the kindest blue eyes and he slowly coaxed my story from me. I'd recently run away--for the third time--and had become involved with some very unsavory characters. I was afraid to continue living with them, but equally scared to return to my abusive home life. But strangely enough, when I'd awakened from my drug-induced stupor that morning, I'd heard the Lord clearly say to me:
"Shawn, go home."
And that's where I was reluctantly headed when the young man stopped to give me a lift.
He listened intently to my sad tale and then spoke softly:
"Shawn, you have a beautiful spirit and I know the Lord has good plans for your life. I know you are scared, but if He said to go home, then you should do it!"
He prayed for me--right there in the fast food joint--and then gave me a dime so I could call home. I dialed the number with trembling fingers, and then breathed a sigh of relief when my grandmother answered. She'd been on her knees, praying for me.
She'd always been a refuge of sanity and hope during my darkest times. I knew I'd be OK if Grandma was there.
I let the young man drive me home, and through some amazing circumstances I won't go into here, I moved to Texas to live with my aunt and uncle before the week's end.
They didn't drink, went to church regularly, and expected me to do the same. My heart healed slowly in that safe place, and the spring of my 17th year, I gave my life to Jesus. I'd never forgotten the young man's words--and I knew that the Lord had good plans for me.
And I've never looked back, really. I finished high school in Texas, and then went on to Bible college where I met my husband. I've followed Jesus ever since.

Why am I writing about these events that happened so many years ago? Because the words of the young man changed--probably saved--my life that day. I have a hard time sharing the "plan of salvation" or the "four spiritual laws" with people.
But's it's not hard to share my testimony. And I know if He has plans for my pitiful life, He was wonderful things planned for yours.