My Testimony continued

I got married and had a baby. I was twenty-one and had studied art and philosophy, debated politics and history, worked a number of small-time jobs, flirted, had friends, and partied; but I knew nothing about being pregnant, bathing a baby, or making a meal, and cleaning house was a complete mystery. My personality was strong and aggressive- at this time my husband sometimes felt the need to tiptoe, mainly because of my temper. It flared on occasion with a finely honed skill of intimidation. I was pretty and fun...but the temper earned me the b-word. You know which one I mean. This is not promising marriage and mother material.

At this point, God made His move. I had a friend, Irene. I love you, Irene. We both smoked cigarettes, went drinking on occasion, had a new marriage and small child, each. The difference was only apparent when we talked about God. During one conversation, I declared to her: "I believe in God, in Jesus Christ, and that he died and resurrected; but God seems so far off to me, not personal like you are talking about." She said "Well, you can know Him that way if you ask Jesus into your heart." That was it,that subject ended and we went on discussing other things. I showed no response and no reaction because my favored exterior was always proud and cool (and the answer just seemed childish, somehow), but I went home with what must have been some sort of impression and resolve. For the next four nights I went to bed with that simple prayer going up to God. On the fourth night I awoke with the most amazing experience. I was praying in a mile-a-minute language that I didn't understand, with what felt like a filling of my being with fire and light. When it ended I felt clean inside- like a complete scrubbing, soaking bath had taken place on the inside of my body. And I knew who Jesus was. I met him.

I didn't know what to call this experience. Having no idea, I went and looked for a book. I think it was called "They Speak With Other Tongues". and I found some labels: I was born again, and had the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Oh no, I was one of the Holy Rollers that everyone (including the Christian members of my family) spoke so derogatorially about. Inward changes came extremely fast. I read my bible constantly. I mean in the real-time sense of the word- always a reader, now instead of eating, instead of sleeping, and certainly instead of housework. My personality underwent major reconstruction; and although the change from the b-word was good, it was unaccustomed. My husband no longer knew who he was married to, my mother thought I had gone overboard, my father called me a "Jesus freak". My friends didn't think I was fun- "you what? read the BIBLE?" I burned all the occult stuff on my little bar-be-que stove out back. When out drinking, it actually brought me down from the high I was having with Jesus. So I thought "Who needs it?" and quit. Then, an evangelism bus came to the neighborhood, and my husband and I started to attend a church from that meeting. I was water baptised, which offended my grandmother- she felt I was blaspheming since I had been sprinkled as a baby. I was offending everyone. When talking to friends and relatives about Jesus, it either turned them toward or off. Mostly off. But it was all OK, I was the happiest ever in my life and hoped there might be some who would like to share in it.

During this time period, between the first and second year after becoming saved, my sisters and husband committed themselves to Christ. In the ensuing years, it has been good to see my brother-in-law, mother, and some cousins serve Him. I have seen my children, one by one, accepting Him personally. And although time has yet to play out its course, I believe I will see each child fulfill the destiny God has for them in His kingdom.

This takes me to about 1976 or so, within the first couple years of my conversion. From then til now is another installment, because God keeps working there is more of the story to tell.......at another date.