Being a pastor/evangelist’s daughter was like living life in a fishbowl for the entire world to see. Little did my father know that he was called to be an evangelist and not a pastor. Thus feeding his sheep a steady diet of “hell, fire & brimstone” was more than they could endure. Consequently moving from church to church, as my father was “voted out,” I incurred wounds from within the body of Christ that I never knew existed.
Through the years, the spiritual fire that once burned so brightly in my heart began to cool from the winds of rejection. Slowly the lure of the world began to draw this preacher’s kid away. The years that followed produced the wanderings and destination of the proverbial prodigal daughter. I married, but went through years of trials that in most cases would result in divorce. I tried all the things that the world had to offer. I sowed my wild oats. However, after many years of wandering in the wilderness, God began to deal with me in tragic ways. “The way of the transgressor is hard.” Proverbs 13:15b
I lost a very lucrative career. I was in a devastating car accident in which one young girl lost her life and my neck was almost broken. The injury was so severe that I was in and out of traction for over a year. My father, who was always my hero, fell from grace and lost his ministry for many years. At 53 years of age my mother died of cancer. My brother’s family was in a car accident where two of his family members were killed. Only by the grace of God did my marriage survive. By this time, my heart of stone was being chipped away by heartache.
Shortly thereafter, I came back to my Heavenly Father and just as the prodigal son, He ran to meet me with loving arms and forgiving eyes.
There is so much more to the story, but I will tell you this—the glory produced from this story is like having touched the face of God.
From a grateful heart,