“As a painfully shy 14 year old, new to town, school and puberty, I drifted towards a band of kindred misfits. Smoking ineffective marijuana was our cement. Before the first bell we met at the creek near school to smoke our seeds & stems. Bloodshot eyes proved we were cool. This was the beginning of my four decade grass habit.
College required a degree of focus my dope smoking wouldn't allow, so I was drafted into the Viet Nam war; 1969's draft number 13 -no joke.
Tropical grass is to the domestic weed as Wild Turkey is to beer. Because of that 'one hit wonder', the memories of my VN tour of duty are fragmented. I was spared an Infantry posting and was trained in Avionics -aviation electronics. I lost a couple of smoking buddies & gained a career. Shame from my shallow regard for their demise occasionally bubbles to the surface to this day.
Released for the Army, I began my manic scramble for satisfaction. But just as no amount of sugar replaces the need for a little salt, my chase for Possessions, Power & Prestige could not sate my hunger for peace of mind. I smoked and drank my pain killers to no avail.
Two auto accidents gradually turned me towards Christ. Back in 1975 I had a minor fender-bender, but it triggered my lifelong battle with epilepsy. Conceit over my mind's reliability vanished. Then in 1997, my one-car accident caused spinal damage. The minor crippling & residual pain made my Narcissism a farce.
Then my toddler daughter wanted to attend 'happy school'; her name for Sunday School. A neighbor suggested 1st Presbyterian, so I grudgingly attended. Great music & nothing like the sweat-outs I recalled from my Mormon upbringing. But it was still off the mark for me.
I even went to a Men's Retreat. A big perm for a bald woman in my case, but the music was even better, the food was very good, and the guys were real. Then came Hal.
I called myself an Orthodox Agnostic in hopes the oxymoronic title would keep the ethnologists at bay. Hal, a soft spoken man with a logical mind, took me to task at the retreat late one morning. Using one truth at a time, he shattered my layers of defense against Christ. By the time he was done with me, I morphed from a smug know-it-all needing no aid to a blubbering mess pleading in prayer.
As if flipping a switch, the salt of Christ filled my scarred & empty heart. Prayer even relieved me of my drug addiction! Every day of biblical study & prayer adds depth to my life. Now I long to give back some of this joy."
