One day I was talking about my higher power with my sister. She was one of those “born again Christians,” and she started talking about Jesus and church. Usually I would have told her that I didn’t want to hear that crap, but this time it was different - this time I listened, and then she dared me to go to church. So the rebellious, cocky person I was, who never turned anybody down on a dare, took her up on it and went to her church. It was the first church service I had been to in probably twenty years. I actually went there opened minded. It was a huge church, probably around fifteen hundred to two thousand people there. Something happened there that changed my life - at least the beginning of a divine change and healing. As I sat in this school auditorium amongst this massive crowd of people, I felt something I had never felt. I knew at that moment that God was going to heal me of my fears of intimacy, and that I would be free. Well as I said, this church was massive and I’m not one to be shuffled into the crowd. I needed to know people and I needed people to know me. I felt really uncomfortable at this church for that reason, and James wasn’t with me, due to football games and whatever excuse he could come up with to avoid church. I felt all alone around all these people. I just wanted something smaller that I could call home, but I didn’t want to stop going to church. I was really starting to understand and desire to know who Jesus was - scared yes, but determined. So I went to Lisa’s church approximately four times and then I started my own journey looking for a church.
The next Sunday I went to a church a friend had recommended. This was a very traditional church (the kind I grew up in). The kind where you sit in the pews and listen to someone singing opera next to you - boring - not my style at all. So I left that drab place, knowing I wouldn’t be back.
I didn’t know what to do, I was miserable and I was at my wits end. I hated my life; I just wanted everything to be over. I started thinking about using drugs again. I thought that if I could get high, I’d feel better, but if I got high I would feel even worse, because I would break my sobriety. I just didn’t know where to turn, so I drove. I didn’t want to go home to that hell house. So as I was on my way home, but not wanting to go there, I passed a sign of a church that was held in an elementary school. I drove past my house and I turned around. I was in such despair realizing how miserable I was, and at this time, James was about to be laid off his job. I just felt doom. So I pulled into the parking lot of the school, where the church was, and I walked in. At that time the service was already over. I walked in, not knowing anyone, and I spilled my guts to the pastor. I told him that my husband and I were about to split up and that he was getting ready to loose his job. I didn’t know this man, but for some reason I trusted him, and he comforted me and told me that he would call me. I really felt that he would call me and he did. He called me and asked if he could come over. Now I knew how jealous James was, but I didn’t care. I really thought this pastor could help. So I agreed and he came over. He spent several hours at my house and we talked about my life, the past, the present and the future.
We discussed in length the subject of God the Father, who I thought I knew and felt comfortable with, and we talked about God the Son, Jesus Christ. Now this was not comfortable for me, but the pastor showed me a different aspect of Jesus that I had never known. Jesus was my friend, and He loves me and cares about what’s going on in my life. Jesus, who I had never even given a chance, loved me and wanted to save me from the pits of hell that I was in. He wanted to help me, and wanted to change me and heal me. And even though I couldn’t see him, all I needed to do was trust him. I needed to repent for all my sins, which were many, and I needed to accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior and turn my life over to him. And that is exactly what I did on January 21, 1993. I became one of those “born again Christians” myself. And this was truly the beginning of my life. This was not a quick fix of moving or getting the right job, or being the exact size or having the perfect something. This was what I had been missing and longing for all my life. I had tried to get this through drugs and alcohol, through relationships and success. But nothing compared to the love of Jesus Christ.
From the very first day of salvation, I never went on cloud nine, as some have, I just believed that I was saved by faith and that the Lord was going to heal me. Even though there were no real changes on the outside, I was being transformed into a new creation on the inside - a child of God of pureness and righteousness. I started attending that church at the elementary school faithfully.
James was starting to get curious about this church thing, but he still made up all the excuses why he couldn’t go, “I’m a good person, I’m going to heaven, why do I need to go to church?” No matter what I said, it came out wrong, because I didn’t know what I was talking about, and he had an attitude no matter what I said.
Since I was going to church, I was in consistent contact with Pastor Gary, and he would tell me things like “You have been chosen and God’s really going to use you. And you have a very special relationship with God, and you have special gifts, and God will really speak to you.” I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I just assumed that he said this to everybody, so I just ignored it, but stored it in my heart.
After I accepted Christ I was still in a painstaking time of trying to get pregnant while fearing intimacy and at the same time trying to convince my husband to accept Christ. Nothing was working. One day the pastor called and I told him that I had a desk I wanted to donate to the church. He came over to pick it up, but this time James was home, and he met the man I had been telling him about. At first he was very abrupt with Pastor Gary, but then as they started talking about the men’s softball team at church, there was a sparkle in James’ eyes. This was something that interested him. The only catch was that he had to attend church two or three Sundays out of each month. Although he didn’t want to have anything to do with church, he did want to be on the softball team. He had never been involved in organized sports before. I think he would have done anything to belong somewhere, doing what he liked to do.
The next Sunday would have been his first time at church, but it snowed. Since we had church in a school, we had to find another alternative. And we did, we had church at the pastor’s house. There were only seven of us including our son and it was kind of cozy, but a bit uncomfortable. The pastor’s wife asked if anyone needed prayer, and I said, “Yes, my husband needs to be saved.” Now that was really overstepping my bounds, but I didn’t know it at the time. All I knew was if he didn’t get saved, I didn’t know how long I was going to stay with him. James was angry, and because of his anger, there was no way he was going to accept Christ that day. But he did agree to go to church so he could play softball. We went every Sunday - we came in late and stayed in the back. I probably went up to the alter sometimes two or three times in one service for prayer—prayer for my husband’s salvation, our finances, our relationship and prayer for me to get pregnant.
You see even after surgery, I still didn’t ovulate. Before the surgery my temperature chart looked like a mountain, and afterwards, it looked like a horizon —flat lined. It wasn’t going to happen. And of course we fought so much that we couldn’t be close —time was running out. James wasn’t saved; life was a big black cloud in our house, but Justin was always loved and never neglected.
One day when we were in church, sitting in the back, I went up front to be prayed on for my many needs. And as I did, James sat in the back and said to God “as far as I know, I’m just talking to the air, but if your real, please help me, I have nothing left and no where to turn.” He accepted the Lord that day. I don’t know the exact day, but I know it was sometime in March of 1993.
He seemed to experience that “cloud nine” experience I’d heard about. He had so much joy. He was always in a good mood and high as a kite on life. It was a wonderful sight except where there is an up that high, there’s a pretty deep low. I was so afraid he was going to crash and burn. He continued this high for quite a while, and I was on a low. I was so depressed because I couldn’t get pregnant. I wasn’t even ovulating. This was about the fifth month of trying to get pregnant, and we had the threat of time running out because of the endometriosis.
I even started taking fertility drugs to help the process. It was supposed to help me ovulate, but instead, it backfired and landed me into the hospital with ovarian hyper-stimulation, which made my only ovary, the left one, be about ten centimeters in diameter. It was extremely painful. So after I got out of the hospital, I went to see my doctor to start with fertility drugs again. But he wouldn’t put me on anything, because my ovary was still enlarged. He said, “”I don’t know what to do with you Rhonda, your ovary is too enlarged to take fertility drugs and you’re not ovulating and your endometriosis is causing you so much pain that we’re going to need to schedule surgery. All I can tell you is you better pray.” So I took him up on that.
You see I knew I was going to get pregnant, because of a dream I had. It was the Lord giving me a chance to repent for my abortion. I had this dream and relived the entire abortion, except this time I felt the emotional pain that I never allowed myself to feel during the actual procedure. When I woke up from the dream, with remorse in my heart, and repentance on my lips, the Lord assured me that I would conceive.
One night the pastor’s wife, Janet, had her monthly ladies meeting, so I decided to attend. I went there and all the ladies, about ten of them, laid hands on me and prayed for me to get pregnant. I had the faith at this point that I would conceive. I had the power of the Holy Spirit, which rested upon me during their prayers. And I knew, that I knew, that I knew that I would miraculously get pregnant.
The day then came for me to take my usual monthly fertility test. It was Justin’s first birthday. I woke up and started going through the motions of taking this monthly, emotionally tormenting test. I was not even paying attention, I was just on auto pilot—doing what I did month in and month out. Except this time, when I went to check it and then quickly toss it into the trash so as not to haunt me, it was a miracle - the liquid in the tube was pink! I couldn’t believe it; six months of taking my temperature daily and taking this test monthly and having surgery, it actually was pink. I was in shock. I screamed and told James “This is it; we’re going to get me pregnant!” I didn’t have one ounce of fear of intimacy in my entire being. I had true faith, and I knew I would conceive that day. I knew it in my heart that this was our one chance. This was our miracle.