a testimony

This testimony began in my journal as a rant. I was writing one of those letters that you aren't supposed to send. I was feeling alone, like the whole world was against me, but I soon scribbled all that out, and it has become a love letter to my God, and my congregation.

It is important to know where this miracle of God‘s restoration and healing took place. It wasn’t the proverbial “mountain top” experience. It wasn’t a one-time experience, but happened over and over again, and continues to happen today. It happened in my congregation, in their homes, and in my hospital room.

I had bipolar disorder with Post Traumatic Stress. In my confused state I had also committed a work-related federal crime, a felony that I believed would require some prison time. I was estranged from my birth family. I had come to a place where I couldn’t think, couldn’t reason, couldn’t take care of needs so basic as sleeping at night, eating, making sure I had a roof over my head, staying alive. I couldn’t feel love, only intense pervasive pain, and I knew that my life had no worth.

I had been secretly struggling for a while, and when we had our congregational retreat at Camp Miakonda, I knew I couldn’t go on. The Toledo Ohio congregation--all of them with Craig and Brenda Lenfesty-- surrounded me with love, and prayed for me. I remember during this prayer, there were children hugging my toes, with tears in their eyes, earnestly praying for me to not feel so sad.

I can’t remember every event that occurred during those years. I’m just going to tell you a few of the acts of love that sustained me, and have continued to sustain me.



When I lost my apartment, I moved for a while into a motel. I had no place to spend my days. For one full week I went to the church, and Diana and I and others colored murals to use in Vacation Bible School. We colored and talked and laughed. That’s it.

Karie invited me over for supper and to watch a video. I remember watching the movie and laughing and holding all her babies in my lap at once, Melissa, Makayla, a couple of cats. I was literally buried in life.

We talked very late into the night, and then we got out Brent’s big telescope, with no idea how to set it up. Brent found us in our chaos, set the telescope up, and showed me the beautiful diamond-like moons of Jupiter.

When I was in the hospital, the children made paper cranes and huge posters to decorate my room.

I remember Shirley calling me at the hospital and asking me how I was. My feet were so cold from not moving around. Bud and Shirley arrived a short time later with lots of socks.

I remember sitting in the office, trying to tell my Pastor, Bud, what was happening in my brain, that things were really getting bad, and that he should just let me go. He held on instead. He got out his oil and anointed me, one of many times.

I remember Janet taking me to the hospital the first time, in the middle of the night. She was my advocate, making sure everything would be all right before she left. Janet fiercely held on to me, cried with me, confronted me, loved me. She and Lisa educated themselves on the local mental health resources, and helped me get set up in treatment. They, along with Anne, sacrificed too much, as well as their families.

I remember sitting on Lisa’s porch and telling her of a childhood that had never been spoken out loud before.

Jim shared deep concepts of God that allowed me to know that I had never been alone, and I learned to trust God again.

Anne threw me the only birthday party I’ve ever had, she found me a top lawyer, she arrived at the courthouse when I was sentenced. I still have no idea how she found out when and where.

I was often without a home, sometimes for a few days, sometimes for weeks. I remember once, while staying with the Zimmerman family, I got up very early and sat alone in the living room. Emily was around 13, she found me, and just sat with me and shared her presence with me even though she was a little afraid. She then woke up her entire family and her father, Guy made pancakes.

I remember Christine telling me of her first time being a girls camp counselor. When it was time for cabin prayers, tiny Morgan marched to the center and they led prayers for me so I could be happy.

Christine was around 13 or 14 when I started getting sick. She never seemed ill at ease to approach me, would sit with me in church, and ask specific questions on how I was feeling, and offered loads of encouragement. I was stunned the other day when I realized that these are the skills she now uses in her career as an Occupational Therapist.

Barb, when she sent cards, always hand wrote meaningful quotes from things she read to learn about my condition and to encourage me. She shared a passage from the desiderata with me that helped get me through some rough days.

Everyone sent cards and emails, they took me to appointments, they visited me, they fed me, they hugged me when I pushed them away, they invited me to share their homes--even when they were afraid of me and for me. Several people privately shared times when they were vulnerable and afraid, and gave me hope that one day I could be whole.

A woman from my congregation. Lisa Williams, wrote and recorded a song about my journey. The refrain repeats, "She doesn't know God's giving her the courage and power to take her life back.” I absolutely did not believe it. But it happened.

I am alive and happy and whole for the first time in my life--not because of the spectacular sermons, or wonderful music, or many things that happen on Sunday morning. I am alive because the Toledo Congregation of the Community of Christ listened to me, shared my tears and fears, made me laugh, invested time and presence in my life. None of the things required special skills, just the willingness to bear with me, and hold tight until I could heal and find my way.

I know the healing power of God, and for me, it most often comes in the form of a loving congregation. I don’t think many realize how powerful all those simple acts of presence are. When I first heard section 162, I thought of my experience

“You are a good and faithful people, but sometimes you fail to see the power that is resident in your own story and fellowship. Look carefully, listen attentively, and sense the Spirit among you.”

When I look out at my congregation, I see my church family. I see my sister and niece who had their own transformations and were baptized during this time. I see the beautiful faces of God. Because of God working through their lives, I now have a future. I not only share in God’s love, and in my beloved family’s love, but the ultimate miracle is, I have come to love and accept myself as a child of God. I will never be the same.