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eighty-four f

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I settled into my new home and prepared for the onslaught of snowbirds. Once the 1998-1999 season wound down, I began to feel an emptiness. I had a career I loved, a roof over my head, and a network of friends. I’d come to realize money and things were no substitute for a sober life.

Still, something was missing. Had I become complacent now that I’d achieved my dream? Was I craving the excitement of my past life? Why couldn’t I relax in my success?

I was coming up on thirteen years of sobriety and invited Shelley to celebrate my anniversary. We met at our favorite Mexican restaurant and ordered fish tacos. The aroma arrived seconds before our food. We couldn’t resist a few bites before getting down to business.

“Don’t get me wrong,” I began. “I’m grateful for my life in Scottsdale. I never thought I’d live past forty, and here I am in paradise with my best friend.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Something’s missing. There’s a piece of my heart that hasn’t healed. I’ve asked myself if I’m still searching for the man of my dreams, but I know that’s not it.”

“Guess you’ve come to the same place as me,” Shelley said. “No man is going to make you happy. It’s gotta come from within.”

“Right,” I agreed. “If a guy does come along, he’ll be the catsup on the burger, not the burger.”

She broke out in laughter. “You sure have a way of phrasing things!”

My mood lifted. We enjoyed our tacos. My questions could wait until after we indulged in dulce de leche, the house dessert specialty. Once we’d eaten our fill and sat with our coffee, Shelley brought our conversation back to me.

“I think I know what’s bugging you,” she said. “You’re looking for more than AA.”

I nodded. “I keep asking myself if I’ll be going to meetings, repeating the same phrases over and over, till I die.”

“I asked myself the same question after I celebrated ten years of sobriety.”

“What’d you do?” I asked.

“I found Jesus.”

I thought back to my time in prison, how I turned to my little blue Bible for peace, and how God’s words soothed me. Perhaps Shelley was onto something.

“AA taught me that running on my own steam and doing things my way wasn’t working,” I said, “but they rarely mention Jesus.”

“That’s ’cause they’re appealing to a cross section of the population,” Shelley explained. “They want you to realize there’s a power greater than yourself, but they leave it up to you to define that power.”

“It’s like they take spirituality only so far. It’s all about the Twelve Steps, listening to war stories, repeating the serenity prayer. I need more.”

“Now you’re talking,” Shelley said.

“It’s almost like Jesus has been out there waiting for me. Boy, has he been waiting a long time.”

Shelley smiled. “He’s patient and never gives up.”

“I was thinking about Kenya and how my Bible saved me. But it was all selfish prayers. ‘Foxhole prayers,’ I think they’re called. ‘Get me outta here,’ I’d pray. And once I was out, I forgot about God.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Shelley’s cliché hit home. “Come to church with me this Sunday.”

This wasn’t the first time Shelley had mentioned her church. She’d hinted at me joining her, but I had more important things to do on a Sunday—like clean my condo, shop, or sleep in after a hectic week at the salon.

I hesitated. “Sunday’s always been my day.”

“It’s my day, too, but now I share it with Jesus,” Shelley said. “You’ve been working your tail off for months. You deserve to treat yourself to something special. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

“Well, maybe just this once.”

Shelley’s smile was infectious. “My church is amazing. The congregation is kind and welcoming; the music will blow you away. Once won’t be enough.”

That Sunday I put on my best slacks and a silk blouse and met Shelley outside Praise Him Bible Church. The building was nothing like the Gothic-style churches of my youth. The church had taken over an abandoned strip mall and turned it into a house of worship. Hundreds of cars filled the parking lot. Parishioners, young and old, in jeans or Sunday best, filed into the entrance.

“I had no idea so many people worshiped on Sunday,” I said.

Shelley laughed. “Follow me.”

The anchor store had been turned into a sanctuary. Tiered seats rose on three sides. Seats on the ground level faced an enormous platform with a bandstand, pulpits, and risers for a choir. A massive TV screen played videos of prior services, baptisms, and more. Recorded praise music welcomed us to join the celebration.

“The energy is intense!”

“This is nothing. Wait’ll the service starts.” Shelley led me to second-tier seats.

“Can’t we sit up front?”

“I think you’ll be happier up here,” she said. “You’re close enough to see everything, and the perfect distance from the TV.”

A band and choir appeared first. The crowd stood and joined in the singing. I swayed to the music and looked forward to the day I’d know the lyrics.

Once the service began, I was mesmerized.

“Once a person accepts Jesus into their heart, they become reborn,” the pastor preached. “You, as a brand-new creation, become the living representation of Christ. Jesus died on the cross to save every one of us. By accepting and believing in Him, you will be empowered.”

I could swear he looked directly at me. As we bowed our heads in prayer, the congregation stood, joined hands, and became a single, powerful embodiment of the Holy Spirit.

My only disappointment was how quickly the service ended.

“I could stay here all day,” I said.

“I told you. This is the absolute best!”

“It’s almost as though I had to go through my marriages, prison, dancing, drinking, and drugging to get to this place.”

Shelley nodded. “Don’t forget AA. It saved your life and brought you to me.”

“It’s all part of the journey. I wish I didn’t have to wait till next Sunday to come back.”

“You don’t have to,” Shelley said. “They have Bible study on Wednesday evenings. You’ll get to meet more people and study the Word of God.”

“Care to join me?” I asked.

“Absolutely! Now, my friend, how about lunch?”

I arrived at the Wednesday evening Bible study bathed in nervous excitement. A group of thirty men and women greeted me. My initial self-consciousness faded the moment the meeting began.

We opened with a prayer and discussion. Members shared their challenges and triumphs and how Jesus had spoken to them during the week.

John, the leader, turned to me. “Would you like to introduce yourself and tell us what brought you here?”

I stood proudly. “My name’s Ava Stanton. I attended the Sunday service and knew I’d found my home. I want to learn everything I can, to know Jesus, and what His purpose is for me.”

Everyone smiled and clapped. Murmurs of “Welcome” and “Praise Jesus” floated through the room.

“Thank you,” John said. “Let’s open our Bibles to Galatians 2:20. Ava, as our newest member, would you like to read the passage?”

I felt heat rise into my cheeks. Would I stumble on the words or give them meaning?

“‘I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.’”

God’s words spoke to me through that passage. I knew my knowledge of the Bible was limited, but not until that evening did I realize the depth of meaning in the scriptures and how much there was to learn.

John addressed the group. “What does tonight’s passage say?”

A few members shared their interpretations. I’d brought a notebook and scribbled their responses.

John then asked, “Who would like to share how God’s words spoke to you personally?”

John’s goal was to help each of us build a bridge between observation and interpretation. He stressed the importance of reading the Bible daily.

“And if you’re reading a difficult passage, relax.” He looked directly at me. “I’ve been studying the Word of God for years and there’s still much I don’t understand. Bible study is a lifelong endeavor.”

We discussed a few more passages from the New Testament before we broke for coffee and fellowship. The warmth emanating from the group was contagious.

“What did you think of tonight’s study group?” John asked.

“I loved every minute,” I said.

“I felt God’s love radiate from you.”

“I felt it, too,” I agreed. “It’s like I’ve come home.”

“You have. Will we see you next Wednesday?”

“Absolutely. And you’ll see me Sunday.”

“Praise Jesus,” John said.

I attended services on Sundays and Bible study on Wednesdays. I immersed myself in God’s teachings and read His word daily. At a Bible study several months later, John approached me.

“Ava, have you been baptized?”

“I assume I was when I was a baby.”

“That was for your parents, not you,” John explained. “Baptizing you as a conscious adult means you are publicly declaring you belong to Christ.”

“I’m ready.”

On a Sunday a few weeks later, I was baptized along with several other adults. I’d watched baptisms and been instructed in what to expect, but I was still anxious and excited to experience the ritual for myself.

I wore shorts and a Praise Him T-shirt for the ceremony and brought a change of clothes for later. When it was my turn, the pastor recited a short prayer and asked if I’d accepted Christ as my savior. Once I agreed, I was led to a tank that had been wheeled into the sanctuary. John escorted me up a short ladder to enter the tank. Randy, an assistant pastor, assisted me down another ladder, where I joined him in the waist-high warm water. A volunteer stood nearby.

He gently placed one arm on my shoulder and gazed into my eyes. “It is our honor to baptize you today,” he began. “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

Randy gave me a gentle nudge. I held my nose, leaned backward into the arms of the volunteer, and immersed myself in the water. I was only under water for a few seconds, but when I emerged, I felt reborn. The entire congregation applauded as I stood drenched and dripping.

After the ceremony I was led backstage to a room where I could change, dry my hair, and apply makeup. Friends and strangers congratulated me after the service. I don’t think I ever felt as loved as I did that day.

I knew life would continue to present me with struggles, and I knew I still carried pain in my heart. But now I had Jesus walking beside me and bringing the right experiences and people into my life.