[Editor's Note: Just so you all are aware, by no means is this the Reader's Digest Condensed version. If you desperately want that, read every other line. It won't make as much sense, but you'll get the gist of it.]


 I wasn't raised in a Christian house. Don't get me wrong - my parents are good people and all. We just didn't go to church. My extended family, however, were heavily involved in the church. My aunt is the organist, and she and her husband used to be in charge of the youth group at their church. And when my brother and I got old enough, they invited us to join their youth group, even though we didn't attend church.

It was a good idea, but there were downfalls. Because I didn't attend church, I felt like an outsider. Even with my friends I didn't feel like I fit in. One day I decided that it would help me fit in and be accepted if I wore a cross. So my mother and I went out shopping and I found one that I thought wat pretty, and we bought it and the next day I wore it to school. Things didn't go as I had planned.

I was so uneducated in christianity, I hadn't realized there was a difference between a crucifix and a cross. I bought a crucifix. My methodist friends weren't happy about it, and they let me know. I don't remember exactly how it began, but I remember feeling guilty and ashamed and stupider than ever. At one point someone said, "That's not what we believe." I, of course, being the defensive person I was, said something along the lines of "Why not? What's the difference?" and I was told "Because our sunday school teacher said we don't believe that."

I'm still not sure if they knew better reasons than that and just didn't want to get into it in the school cafeteria, but that one incident made me a little wary of Christianity.

When I went to college in the fall of 1994, I made a lot of friends on the internet. One of them was a christian, and he was very patient with teaching me and helping me. He really was the first person to make me want to be a Christian. He told me once that I should go to a Vineyard church, but I hadn't ever gone regularly to church, so I just kind of blew him off.

My second year in college, I was diagnosed with Major Depression. I rarely left my dorm room, and my grades were falling dramatically. The first semester of that year, I only passed one class. I didn't tell my parents that I was having any trouble because I didn't want to disappoint them. When they found out, they told me I had one more chance and if I messed up again, they weren't paying for my schooling anymore. Well, when I went back to school in January of 1995 for the next semester, I told everybody that I'd prove them wrong and make them all proud of me... of course, that isn't how things worked out. In the beginning of February, I got an ear infection and the health clinic gave me pills for it. One of those pills made me sleep for six hours. Because of that, I started the habit of missing classes again. By the end of February, I received a letter saying that I had been dropped from one of my classes. That letter put me over the edge. Until that time, I had been aware that I couldn't go forward to someplace new because I didn't have anyplace else to go, let alone the money to get there. I also knew I couldn't go back home because I'd promised to make all of those people proud of me, and I knew they wouldn't be anything but disappointed if I failed again. Getting that letter made me also realize that I couldn't stay where I was because I was getting dropped from classes and it wouldn't be long before I would be dropped from school. With those realizations, I came to the conclusion that my only solution was to end it all. I had four of the pills left over from my ear infection, and I had one refill left. I was going to take the four pills and the whole other bottle and see how long that made me sleep.

Luckily the depression helped me during that time. I was so afraid to go out in public that I kept putting off getting the prescription refilled. For four days, I was completely out of control. Also luckily for me, my mom had been calling me just about every day, and I hadn't been returning her phone calls. One day she left a message saying if I didn't return the call within 24 hours, she was going to call Campus Safety and have them come and check on me. Well, I realized that if she had them check on me and I was fine, that would be really embarrassing and I would have to explain it to everyone. If she had them check on me and I had already taken the pills, she would feel guilty because she hadn't had them check on me sooner. So the only acceptable solution was to call her back before I did anything. Well, I called her and while talking to her I realized how much someone would have to care about me in otder to go to that much effort and trouble to make sure I was okay. And I snapped out of that mindset as quickly as I had snapped into it.

When I realized what I had been planning, I was terrified. I couldn't believe how out of control I had become. I had an appointment with my counselor for the next day, and when I went in her first question was "How has your week been?" I told her, and I asked what it would take for me to withdraw from the university. That day I filled out the forms, then called my parents and told them they needed to come and pick me up. I left the university on March 3, 1996.

For the years that followed that, I didn't know what it was like to not be sad. I wasn't always sobbing and crying, but there was always a heaviness over everything that I did. I took clown classes because I knew that would be something fun to do, but I was never really happy. I honestly couldn't remember what normal felt like. But I went on living day to day. I saw counselors, psychologists, psychiatrists, and doctors about it. I was put on Prozac and that made life a lot more normal, but I still didn't feel peaceful.

On the Fourth of July in 1997, I went with my parents to see the fireworks. We ended up sitting next to a group of kids from some church who were passing out free beverages. I got a bottle of water from them and sat for a while, halfway listening to them and halfway wondering why these kids, who were all between the ages of 8 and 16 could sit and talk among themselves about Jesus without feeling uncomfortable, when I was with my parents and I didn't feel like I would be able to talk about Jesus. I wanted to be like them. I looked at the sticker on the bottle of water, and it said "Showing God's love in a practical way - Dayton Vineyard Christian Fellowship - http://www.dayton.vineyard.org"

The thought briefly crossed my mind that Steve mentioned the Vineyard to me three years before, and I decided that someday at work I would check out their website. Well, a few weeks later, I looked at it and I looked at their beliefs, and I thought, "Hmm... I think I believe some of that stuff. Maybe I'll go to church there someday." A few weeks after that, I looked at the website again. This time I saw the pictures of the clowns and I thought "Okay, God, I hear you. I'll go to this church." So a few weeks later I went. The message was AWESOME, and I thought "I'll have to come back here again." Well, a few weeks later I went back. Once again the message was exactly what I needed to hear. A few weeks later, I went back again. Then I went to their Christmas Eve service. Then I got a letter in the mail talking about their Newcomer's Get Together that would be happening in January. I went to that and just happened to end up sitting next to Todd, who is the leader of the 20's kinship. He told me all about his kinship and I decided to go to that the next time it met.

The day before that kinship, my closest friend (and really my only friend within a 100 mile radius) moved to North Carolina to be with her fiance (as if he's more important than me!). When I went to the kinship the next night, there were all sorts of people there asking if I wanted to go out with them that weekend. After only three and a half years of persistent guidance from God, the Vineyard became my church home.

In March, I decided I wanted to be baptised. About a week before I was baptised, Todd told me I should pray that I go into the water with all of my baggage and leave it all in there when I come out of the water. So I prayed about that, and I had some of my friends pray about that for me. I was baptised on April 8, 1998.

My commitment was tested right up to the last minute. I asked Todd if he would baptise me, and he said he would do that. But when I arrived at the church that evening, I found out he had been drafted to play the drums so he wouldn't be able to baptise me. That, of course, made me a little bit upset. I was going to have to step outside of my comfort zone and let some strangers baptise me! But I knew that if I didn't go through with it, I would basically be saying that the reason I wanted to get baptised was for my friends, not for God. I knew that wasn't what I wanted, so I stuck with my decision and got baptised. And it was the best decision I had made in a long time. :)


UPDATE!
It's now July of 2001. I'm still attending the Vineyard. God has made my life peaceful again. I found the source of my depression - low blood sugar. I'm back in school full time, and I'm on the Dean's List! And just recently, God opened my eyes to a wonderful Christian man, and I'm hoping that he and I get to spend the rest of our lives serving God together. But even if Jay and I don't end up together, I know God is going to take care of both of us, and give us everything we need to find happiness and contentment in our lives.