A Special Appeal to Muslim Readers

Some of what you will find in this book may well upset you. If I were Muslim, yes, I would be offended at some points in this book, and especially with the first essay, “Who is Muhammad’s Gabriel?”

My appeal to you is to have the courage to read the difficult passages. Finding truth and reality is far more important than protecting ourselves from sharp challenges.

Faith must be anchored in ultimate truth and not in traditions. Christians face this on a constant bases and indeed it makes us stronger. So then dear Muslim reader, my hope and prayer is that you will have the strength and courage to look at material that will in fact contradict what you believe.

Essays on Islam

Original Introduction to Islamic Studies: Equipping the Christian Witness to Muslims

Any, all, or parts of the following essays may be used by anyone for whatever purpose, freely, without any consideration or money changing hands. If desired, references may be made without mentioning the articles or author.

The reader will notice differences in my orientation or feelings toward Islam in the essays. The tenth essay was written in late 2016, while the seventh is from 2002. I did not include the earliest essay, because when I wrote it I was quite angry toward Muslims and Islam in general. The more I learned about Islam and especially the more I engaged with Muslim people directly, my views softened, in that I realized Muslims were caught in the vice grip of an exceedingly unhealthy religious system.

The Islam of the extremists is purer, more traditional, and more radical than that practiced and understood by moderates. Only a small percentage of Muslims know much about their religion; the zealous Muslim knows much more about Islam and understands that if he or she has a chance of going to paradise rather than hellfire, it is necessary to be a very fervent follower of Islam.

Most Muslims want to live and let live. But their entire identity, their worldview, is Muslim. They cannot imagine being anything but Muslim. Outreach to Muslims is then dependent on the miracle working of God; the new birth is from above.

To be clear, I see Islam as wrongly oriented and founded. I no more accept Islam as a revelation from God than I do Hinduism, Buddhism, Shamanism, and the belief systems of many neo-pagan groups.

All organized religions are flawed, including Christianity. I am a Baptist pastor who understands that Baptists are flawed as well. Any and every institution with humans involved will be corrupt to some measure, some more than others. I definitely believe that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself and that God sent His only Son to take our sin upon Himself—to die, be buried, and be resurrected. He will come again to judge the living and the dead. There is salvation in no one but Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

A challenge to the reader: Which essay would be appropriate to give to a Muslim and which would not? All the essays are written for Christians who have an interest in understanding Islam. Some are “softer” than others and may be used as a Gospel tract, so to speak, and given to Muslim people. Some are “harder” and would likely repel a Muslim reader. As Christians, we do not “pull punches.” At the same time, we hope to be as wise as serpents and harmless as doves. Our goal is to present the message of Jesus Christ to all people of the world including Muslims.

A note to readers who are feeling a bit overwhelmed at this point. There is so much to learn about Islam and all that goes with it. There is indeed a steep learning curve, and the journey up the initial curve is painful and frustrating. I not only have been there, but in many ways, I am yet struggling up the incline. It is little by little for sure. And I must confess that when I speak with Muslims, I find I really don’t have to know all that much about Islam; this is necessary only when dealing with the imams and scholars. A good grasp of the essentials of Biblical Christianity is what counts the most. We simply present the message of the person and work of Jesus Christ. That is it, the basic evangel. And you will be surprised how many Muslims are eager to hear it.

Preface

Introduction

One. The Sabbath

Two. Passover and The Feast of Unleavened Bread

Three. The Feast of Firstfruits

Four. Pentecost or The Feast of Weeks

Five. The Feast of Trumpets

Six. The Day of Atonement

Seven. The Feast of Booths or Tabernacles

Eight.  The Sabbath Rest of the People of God

Nine. Concluding questions: coincidence, evangelism, conspiracy, or something

else?

Bibliography

Subject Index

Scripture Index

Preface

Introduction

One. The Sabbath

Two. Passover and The Feast of Unleavened Bread

Three. The Feast of Firstfruits

Four. Pentecost or The Feast of Weeks

Five. The Feast of Trumpets

Six. The Day of Atonement

Seven. The Feast of Booths or Tabernacles

Eight.  The Sabbath Rest of the People of God

Nine. Concluding questions: coincidence, evangelism, conspiracy, or something

else?

Bibliography

Subject Index

Scripture Index

Preface

Introduction

One. The Sabbath

Two. Passover and The Feast of Unleavened Bread

Three. The Feast of Firstfruits

Four. Pentecost or The Feast of Weeks

Five. The Feast of Trumpets

Six. The Day of Atonement

Seven. The Feast of Booths or Tabernacles

Eight.  The Sabbath Rest of the People of God

Nine. Concluding questions: coincidence, evangelism, conspiracy, or something

else?

Bibliography

Subject Index

Scripture Index

Two of the seminary students of the newspaper classified ad,

“Seminary Student and Crew” were Paul Bryant and Oliver

Heath, in their first year at Golden Gate Seminary. Both had

established ties with Southern Baptists and were, in fact, raised in

SBC churches. Perhaps because of that, they wanted something new

and different, and they found it with our Christian House Ministries.

Paul and Ollie joined with us in 1968. The requirement was singular:

a desire and willingness to follow Jesus. Ollie went on to start

a Christian house in Mill Valley, and Paul established Berachah House

in San Anselmo, a town in Marin next door to San Rafael.

Berachah means “blessed” in Hebrew, therefore a house of blessing,

and it definitely was. Gloria Ladd owned both houses, the Greenfield

house called Zion’s Inn and the house on Knoll Road in San

Anselmo we called Berachah House.1

Every bedroom in the house was claimed days before we took

possession of it, with two occupants in each of four small bedrooms.

No one paid rent, no one turned over their money to Paul, and there

were no demands, but now eight young men needed to go to work.

Thus was born a house painting business. At one point we had three

crews going, and I spent my time giving estimates based on $5 per

hour per painter and making sure the crews were properly equipped.

We could paint most houses in one week, and we did good work. With

three painters per job, a customer got a house painted for around

$600 plus materials, which was a good deal then.

1 Gloria, sadly, ended up with a wild Pentecostal cult, and due to strange

prophesies, murdered both of her teenage sons and wound up spending the rest of

her life in a psychiatric prison. It was a horrible event that shook the tiny Christian

community, and it still impacts it to some degree.

Chapter 13

Berachah House

Berachah House 43

A young man who came to the Tuesday night Bible study on Greenfield

in 1968 was Mark Buckley, who later married a young woman in

the ministry and also started a construction crew. Mark contributed

greatly to our Christian House Ministry and became a house leader

and a pastor—really an amazing man. I still have the hammer Mark

gave to me back then (some forty-five years ago now), when I worked

with his crew putting shingles on the sides of a house he was working

on in San Anselmo.

Mark married Kris Kenner, and together they operated Solid

Rock, our Christian House in Novato. Mark later became the founding

pastor of the Church of the Open Door in Novato and oversaw

the Christian bookstore there, one of several we opened. Mark and

I, along with Kenny Sanders, whom I will discuss soon, became very

close and essentially guided the JPM in Marin. Mark later moved to

Phoenix, Arizona, and founded what soon became a large church.

A tall, thin, longhaired hippie named Greg Beumer lived in Berachah

House, as did Malcolm

Dawes; they both played guitar

and became key members

in our band, Joyful Noise.

Most of the practices for the

band in its early days were at

Berachah House. Greg wrote

his first song with a Christian

theme entitled, “You’ll Never

Get to Heaven on LSD,” and it

became the most popular of

all the songs Joyful Noise ever

performed. Everyone liked to

think up new verses with substances

or behaviors well-suited to the hippie life but ill-suited to a

Christian one.

At the house, Paul taught a Bible study for kids who attended

Drake High. I recall an incident that occurred at the house, which

reflects some of the trials and tribulations of running such a place.

It must have been Easter, 1970, and one of the occupants of the

house had arranged for the people who showed up at the regular

Tuesday night Bible study to gather Easter Sunday morning wearing

44 Chapter 13

nothing other than sheets. He made it clear: even under garments

were not acceptable. No, everyone was going to greet resurrection

Sunday with nothing on besides a sheet.

The mother of one of the girls who attended the study at Berachah

House called me. Her daughter had told her mother what was

afoot. Not too pleased, I rushed over to the house, learned that Paul

was away in San Diego with his family, gathered the occupants, and

let them have it. The instigator would not back down but tried to justify

himself with weird, icky-gooey, spiritual talk. Seeing that he was

about to prevail, I was forced to utter a phrase that served me well

during those years: “You have two choices—101 South or 101 North.”

Highway 101 cuts through the county north and south and was the

main way in and out. His choice was south, meaning San Francisco, so

I dropped him off at a freeway onramp.

Berachah House survived for a couple of years but folded when

Paul married. It was one of the first of its kind, and perhaps thirty or

more young men lived there. One of these was Kenny Sanders. When

I first met him, I could not see his face for the longish, tangled hair

that obscured it. Kenny, whose father had been one of Martin Luther

King’s attorneys, was one of the first black hippies to show up, and he

became a major part of our ministry in Marin County and later on in

Petaluma in Sonoma County.

Kenny later led a painting crew, was a fabulous painter, a part of

Joyful Noise, the founding pastor of Church of the Open Door in Petaluma,

and along with Mark Buckley and me, a director of the entire

ministry. He married Mary Jensen, who was a student at San Rafael

High School and led the small Christian group there; Mary was a tireless

evangelist whose witness led to the conversion of Bob Burns,

who became one of the pastors in the Church of the Open Door family.

Kenny and Mary later had three children, and Kenny became a medical

doctor with Kaiser Permanente. Now retired, Kenny is attending

seminary2 and doing mission work along with Mary.3

2 Most of the leaders in our Bay Area ministry never attended seminary or

Bible college. They were self-taught people who took advantage of the continuing

stream of discipleship programs we involved ourselves in.

3 Mary Sanders became an artist, and her consistent testimony and witness

saw many come to Christ as a result.

You may not even be from a background like mine. But I know that if you are not in relationship with Jesus, some part of you longs for peace, joy, hope, and purpose. There are millions of stories about people searching for these very treasures, but many are disillusioned after time. No matter what you try, what you strive for, or what you believe you want in this life, nothing will ever fill the void in your heart until you surrender your life to Jesus Christ.

Jesus gives life. He heals our wounds. He gives us freedom from fear and bondage to ourselves. New thoughts and ways of relating become ours as we learn to forgive and put others before ourselves. No life is too broken for Jesus to mend.                                                                 

       Reconciliation is possible with God and others, because He took our sin upon Himself on the Cross. His immense act of love literally frees us from the obligation of working to “pay” for our sins, as so many religions are hopelessly striving to do.                                                                

       I believe that when human beings come into an intimate relationship with the God of the Bible, they develop a true sense of morality. God is all love, but He is at the same time, absolutely just. The two work hand-in-hand beautifully.                                                                         

       Now, the essence of my whole life is to “Serve God by serving others”. My purpose is to share the gift I have received, and what has worked so extremely well for me. You can take it or leave it – it’s your free choice. But who wouldn’t want joy and life satisfaction? Who doesn’t crave a release from intense self-hatred and hopelessness? And just as importantly, please realize that the choice you make to accept or reject Jesus will decide your eternal destiny.                                                                                                  

       I have finally found what I have always been looking for, indeed, what I believe every soul searches for. Jesus wants nothing more than to have a relationship with you, no matter where you are or where you have been.                                                                                               

       I implore you to invite Jesus into your heart today. If you are at the end of your rope; if you are through trying to live life according to your rules; and if you want to experience real peace, joy, and love, now is the time to surrender your life to Christ. Please pray with me:

Jesus, I have been searching for peace and happiness my whole life. I have tried everything to fill the emptiness in my heart, but I haven’t found anything that really works. I now realize that it’s because I have never confessed my sin to You and received forgiveness for my selfish ways. I now admit that I have done a poor job of running my life. I ask you for forgiveness for everything I have done against You, myself, and others. I want to start a new life with You, one filled with contentment and purpose. I want to live for something greater than myself. I want to commit my life to you right now. Thank You! In Jesus Name, Amen.

       If you would like to learn more about how to begin your journey with Jesus, please visit our website at betransformedministries.com, or write Be Transformed Ministries at P.O. Box 597, Grover Beach, CA  93433. Sharon has written 2 other books (New Beginnings: Understanding the Basic Principles of the Christian Faith and Fishers of Men: Becoming a Dynamic Disciple of Jesus Christ). These books are now in 4 languages and are being used in 8 countries by churches, prisons and pastor training conferences. We would love to hear from you and send you free literature to help you grow in your faith. God bless you.

Galatians 1:6–10

Find a quiet place, alone and apart from distractions. Recite the Lord’s Prayer. Pray for family, friends, neighbors, and yourself. Slowly and carefully read the passage above and the Bible passages listed under the title, “Scripture Reading.”

1.    Paul and Barnabas had brought the Gospel to southern part of Galatia, in modern day Turkey, in the mid to late forties, and churches sprang up.

2.    When the two evangelists left, some who had Hebrew backgrounds, attempted to have the new converts observe traditional Old Testament laws including circumcision, and obeying the Law of Moses.

3.    Paul expressions surprise that the new believers in Jesus where being tempted to do so, and thus making salvation something a person did instead of it being the work of the Holy Spirit. Paul says what the Judaizers were doing was presenting a different Gospel.

4.    This amounted to a distortion of the Gospel of Christ. Paul clearly sees how very dangerous such a concept is. And he warns the Galatians that even if he and Barnabas themselves, or even a supposed angel from heaven, where to present such a distortion of the truth that these should be ‘accursed.’

5.    Paul assures the Galatians that he is not seeking the approval of people but of God. For to align with the error that salvation was my means of doing the works of the Law of Moses, then he would not be a servant of Christ.

After I finished the book Devils Driver, I realized that God was exactly what I needed in my life. I got on my knees and cried out to God for over an hour. I wept for all the things I had done to people, and all of the ways that I had rejected God and hated myself. I cried for all the things I had missed in life – all the lost opportunities. When I got up off the floor, I was literally a bran new person.                                       

       When I was placed in General Population a few weeks later, I went to church immediately. The Chaplain befriended me, and bought me a very expensive Bible with his own money. I read it for HOURS every day. I couldn’t get enough of it! It was TRUTH and I knew it. I had lived believing so many lies in my life, the Truth was like a stream of cool water in the desert for me.                                                                                 

       The Scriptures spoke wholeness and hope to my heart. They gave my life meaning and purpose and stability. I began experiencing peace and joy such as I had never known. And I began wanting something that was very foreign to me – I wanted to help others in prison. I became a song leader and began supporting others who were as broken as I had been. Prison would become one of the best experiences of my life.                          

       I was later transferred to a minimum-security prison. However, out of the 90 women there, I was all alone in my faith. I cried out to God and asked “WHY would You send me to this spiritually empty place? I need training. I need friends to help me now more than ever! He showed me that I was the one who would bring hope to these women. I started teaching the Scriptures there, and I learned later that these studies continued years after I left.                                                                 

       When I was released, I had to go back to Santa Cruz, California, where I was from. But the only people I knew there were drug addicts and prostitutes! Again, I cried out to God – “How could you let me come back to the town where all I know are drugs and the street life. How will I overcome the reputation I have made there?” He showed me that I was to be a witness to those I had run with. God brought me many people and opportunities to share His love, light and Gospel with.                            

       The next best part of my life, after accepting Jesus, was when I met my current husband, Michael. He was raised in a family of California Highway Patrolmen!! COPS!! His family was shocked that he would bring “someone like me” home, but over the years, God changed their hearts about “those kinds of people”. God surely has a sense of humor! We have now been married for many years and we love to help others come to faith.  I went back to school and earned my Registered Nursing degree. I also started teaching Bible studies for women. God brought me a very unusual group of women to teach. There were those who had been Christians all of their lives, and there were also women who had just come off the street. Some came from addictive backgrounds, and many were single moms. I couldn’t find any material that this diverse group could all relate to, so I started writing my own studies. The book I wrote, called Be Transformed: By the Spirit of the Living God, was birthed from this class, because my life had been forever transformed.

Greeting & To the Churches of Galatia

 Galatians 1:1–5

Find a quiet place, alone and apart from distractions. Recite the Lord’s Prayer. Pray for family, friends, neighbors, and yourself. Slowly and carefully read the passage above and the Bible passages listed under the title, “Scripture Reading.”

1.           Paul, being  sent out with a message, so an apostle, and this by and through Jesus Christ and God the Father. Paul states also that the Father raised the Son from the dead.

2.           Verse two makes it clear that there are other “brothers” with him who also greet the Galatians.

3.           Verse three has been referred to as the “Passing of the Peace,” and which we begin our worship service with.

4.           In verse four Paul states the core of our Christian faith, that Jesus gave Himself up on the cross for our sake, which has the power to deliver us from the “present evil age.” And all this according to the will and purpose of the Father.

5.           The opening greeting concludes by stating that all glory will be to Father, and this forever and ever.

Chapter 12

The Soul Inn did not last for long. It was under the direction of a Baptist church, with its congregational, democratic form of government, so the house was subject to the will of too many congregants who did not especially like our use of the storefront church. Toward the end, there were only a few of us left living at Soul Inn, and one by one the residents moved on to various places. Some even returned home.

San Rafael, the largest town in Marin County and also the county seat, still had reasonable rental prices. The smallish home we rented was a bit too small, and this was the time that David and I began painting houses to support our ministry work, but only on rare occasions did it provide sufficient money for us.

Three couples living in the same house did not work out for long. After about six months, the Hoyts and Philpotts moved to a larger house on Greenfield Avenue, also in San Rafael. David and I transformed its large basement into living quarters, adding three additional bedrooms. We didn’t care much about permits; we only cared that it worked.

Our consistent problem was what to do with young women who became believers in Jesus and had nowhere to go. Many times we simply placed them homeward bound on trains, planes, or buses. Some had no home to go to, so we had to do something.

David had the idea first. He bought a Volkswagan van—yes, a real
“hippie-mobile”—and painted “Zion’s Inn for Girls” on the side. David and I used that van for our painting business and also drove it for the street evangelism in the City. It was extremely useful.

Soon girls began to move in, mostly for short durations, but some stayed long enough to get stabilized once again. During this period we somehow made friends with a Marin County judge, Peter Allen Smith, who began sending girls to us as a kind of diversionary practice, rather than sending them to jail. He required that Bobbie and I become foster parents, and we did this for a number of girls. It also meant that some court-provided money was coming into the house. Our contacts with Marin County and the City of San Rafael and the good reputation we were able to build with these local governments allowed us to open two “Christian Houses” especially for drug addicts and alcoholics—again a sort of diversionary assignment rather than to jail. This ministry worked out wonderfully well, and some of our top leaders emerged from these houses.

It was here on Greenfield Avenue that I began a Tuesday night Bible study, a tradition that has continued to this day, although in different locations. Someone who began attending the meetings and occasionally leading them was Martin Rosen, who was then with the American Board of Missions to the Jews (now Chosen People Ministries) and who later became “Moishe” Rosen of Jews for Jesus. This connection with Rosen lasted many years, and he and I often worked together doing various kinds of ministries. My oldest daughter Dory was an administrative assistant to his first secretary while she attended high school.

Within a short time, the front room of Zion’s Inn could not accommodate the crowd, so we moved the study just one block down the street to John Wesley Hall at the United Methodist Church of San Rafael. It was at this Bible study where miraculous events began to occur again, mostly healings. I was shocked at this, seeing it happen right in front of me and fairly often. Those who know me know I am a terrible skeptic, and it takes a lot of evidence to convince me.

Family Miracle Story

I will tell the story of one rather incredible miracle. It was about a week after David and Victoria moved to Walnut Creek. My painting work had not been going well; it was before I developed a real painting business employing some of the young men and women living in our houses (yes, many more houses were to come), and one morning we had nothing to eat.

At the breakfast table sat Bobbie, Dory, Grace, and Vernon, who was either an infant or about to be born. In addition, there was Kathy Granger, Linda Patton, and Sher Keaton. Bobbie had boiled some water for the few tea bags we had left. And that was all we had. I can still see us, a motley crew for sure, and we prayed and asked God to take care of us. As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. I answered it, and there stood two people, a man and a woman, both about my age, and they were holding several white bags. They held out the bags toward me, and I took them, carried them back to the kitchen, came back, and received another bag or two. They turned to leave, and I thanked them as they retreated down the stairs and climbed into a newish white panel van (I did not yet know what was in the white bags). They drove off, and I returned to the kitchen. There on the table was a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, potatoes, and milk—the works—exactly enough food for the lot of us. We thanked God for His provision and loved every second of that meal. When we finished, it began to dawn on us what had just happened. Somehow we did not get it right away. But then we realized that someone, perhaps angels, had appeared to answer our prayer.

We examined the bags and the food containers, top and bottom. Even on the bottom of the paper plates there was no indication by whom or where the cups and plates had been made. Nothing. Not a clue. I had never seen the people before and I never saw them again. After all these years I am still amazed. After that event, I rarely worried about our needs being met.

That was breakfast; there was still no money for lunch or dinner. I do not recall how it was we survived, but we did. Never again would Zion’s Inn for Girls ever suffer want. And it was not pennies from heaven that turned things around. It was ads placed in the Marin Independent Journal that read, “Seminary Student and Crew,” that God used to bring us what we needed. 

It was after about one year at Zion’s Inn that David and Victoria moved to Walnut Creek to begin a new work. David and I were both type-A leaders who knew how things should be done, and thus we had times of conflict. I have often wondered what might have been, if we had been able to continue working closely together.

My daughter Dory reminded me just recently of one memory from the Zion’s Inn days that needs to be told. My daughters Dory and Grace shared a bedroom that David and I had constructed in the basement. One mid-morning, I returned to the Greenfield house or Zion’s Inn and saw fire trucks blocking the street. A jolt of fear ran through me as I realized the trucks were parked right in front of our house. As I rushed to the scene, I found my family—Dory, Grace, and Bobbie—standing in front of the house, watching smoke billow out of the basement. Dory, who was crying and shaken, told me that when the girls went to school, a space heater must have been left on and started the fire. She was scared to death I would blame her, and I did my best to let her know it was all okay.

The smoke from the fire made the entire house uninhabitable. The landlady, Gloria Ladd, graciously stepped in and offered us the use of a house she owned in Ross, a mansion really, that happened to be vacant. We lived in that sprawling Victorian type house until the Greenfield place was ready to reoccupy.

Until more recently, I forgot about this incident, perhaps because it brings up my lack of caring for my own family during the turbulent years of the JPM. Times of awakenings are wonderful, but there is a price to pay. Those involved will often go through very trying times at minimum, and some of the stories I hope to relate toward the close of these memoirs are not comfortable to recount.

We are about to publish Why I Decided Not to Kill Myself. It is my personal story, a short ‘booklet’ intended to help others overccome suicidal thoughts.

We are looking for a few more one paragraph accounts of how others decided the same thing. And by sending it to us would mean your granting us permission to include it in the book.

We will only put as authors of the short pieces a first name, whatever you would want it to be.

We just came up with this at breakfast today, and we intend to finish this by Monday coming up. So, if there are out there some who have struggled through such a thing, this is an opportunity to help others.

If you receive this on my blog or on Facebook, please send your piece to:

kentphilpott@comcast.net.

Kent and Katie Philpott

PART TWO

When I was 19, I started working for the California Conservation Corps. One of our responsibilities was to serve meals to the firefighters and prisoners as they fought the major fires. This is where I met “Bill” who was an inmate imprisoned up in Yreka, California. Bill and I wrote letters back and forth for months, and when he was released, we moved in together. We were later married and had 2 children.                                    

       At this time, I was drinking heavily and smoking pot. For years, I had used every drug I could get my hands on. But little did I know that Bill was using IV cocaine and speed. And it didn’t take much to convert me into an IV drug user. I would spend the next 6 ½ years with a needle in my arm. I had 4 near-death experiences when I overdosed, twice by the needle and twice when I was smoking crack. Needless to say, I lost all interest in working, taking care of my 2 kids, my husband, my apartment– and myself. We ended up living in a tent, because we had lost everything. The only important thing now was using. I ended up sharing needles with people who later died from AIDS. Over time, my veins were so scarred from injecting myself, I started shooting in my hands and feet. On several occasions, I even had another stoned addict shoot drugs into my neck veins. This could have meant sudden death with even the slightest mistake. The interesting thing is, throughout this horrible time, I wasn’t having fun at all – I was just trying to deaden my pain. Bill and I divorced after 8 ½ years of marriage. We had tried to get sober together, but by that time, we didn’t know who each other was without the drugs. After a 6-month attempt at sobriety, I left my family and headed straight for the streets so I could continue in my addiction.

       I harbored guilt for this for years afterwards, because I helped to destroy that marriage and I abandoned my children, just as I had been abandoned as a child. I wasn’t able to see them again for a very long time. I never imagined that I would end up living on the street for 2 years. I was that proverbial “bag lady” you often see on the street. I lived in a predominantly black neighborhood when I was homeless, and I would go up into the projects at night for drugs – which is something even the locals wouldn’t do because it was so dangerous. I occasionally scoured garbage cans for food, but I usually just sold my body so I could survive and keep up my drug habit.                                                                  

       I certainly had a death wish. Twice, guns were pulled on me, and once I told the guy “Shoot me and put me out of my misery”. I tried to commit suicide on several occasions, but I couldn’t even succeed at that. I was miraculously spared from death on so many occasions.  It’s funny – when you’re “out there” – you just don’t realize how “out there” you really are until you get your life back.                                           

       I had been arrested 13 times by the time I was 29. One morning, I was unlawfully on Fort Ord Army Base in Seaside, California, when 6 military police cars and the City of Seaside Police Sergeant pulled up to the front of the house I was in and came busting at the door. I didn’t know it then, but this was to be the very last time I would ever use cocaine. I’m 5’8” tall, and when I was arrested, I weighed in at 117 pounds. I didn’t even realize how sick I had become.                                              

       Because of my lengthy record, and multiple recent crimes and arrests, I was sent to prison. At the time, I thought this was the end of my life. However, I realized I was at a critical crossroad in my life. I needed to either fully choose life, or fully choose death. I just couldn’t live like this any longer. I am abundantly grateful now that I chose life.                      

       I was sent to a Southern California women’s prison. I was placed in the “receiving unit” before being released to the General Population. I knew some of the women there already; I had run on the streets with them. It’s organized so that 2 inmates are placed in a cell that’s roughly 6 feet by 10 feet. We were on lockdown 23 hours a day for 6 weeks, so there was absolutely no privacy. Very few inmates in receiving are allowed out of their cells to work.                                                                               

       But GOD had a plan for me. My cellmate worked in the kitchen, which gave me the time I needed to be alone. God was about to do another miracle in my life. While I was alone in my cell, I finished a book called “Devils Driver”. The story was about Al Capone’s chauffer, the big mafia guy in the 40’s. This man had killed many people and landed in prison. He found hope in that dark prison, and his life changed so much, he began to help other prisoners.                                                                

       I didn’t know I was at a major turning point in my life. I wasn’t even looking for God. All I knew was that I wanted to die. My whole life up to this point was useless and the pain was unbearable. I was 29 years old and had nothing but misery and a pathway of destruction to show for it.