Last night I had a dream about the last person I fully loved. As a single woman and born again believer for more than 25 years, this is not a light statement. 

In 1989 I was living with a man I thought would be my husband, until the reality of his alcoholism awakened that fantasy. Neither one of us was ready for a committed relationship. Convenience, a shared interest in having fun and truly adoring our time together were not enough to build a marriage on and overcome addictions. We both had our demons. 

He is not the last man I thought I loved, but rather how I met only one other. The beginning of the end with the alcoholic started when I secretly met his former roommate and learned the real reason he didn’t want to live there anymore. His roommate had become a born again believer. 

After talking a bit, the roommate invited me to visit the church he attended — a nondenominational Bible teaching church. Over the years I had explored several denominations and a few “neutral” religions. I knew God existed, but I had not fully comprehended this Jesus that was to be his son. If I knew God, why was it important for me to know Jesus?

The Sunday before a planned intervention for our mutual friend, I attended church with his roommate. The sermon from Don Finto, Ph.D., a wise and learned man of God, was all about the prodigal son, the one who took his inheritance and sought the world only to realize he had it pretty good back at ole dad’s place. Finto had a great way of making the scriptures come to life. While he laughed telling the story with a few added modern applications, I cried. He was talking about me.

Long story short, the alcoholic went into treatment, we broke up and to this day, he is sober, married and a father. I am a spirit-filled, God fearing, woman trying to fulfill my life’s purpose — loving Jesus.

I attended the roommate’s church to learn everything I could about Yeshua Jesus and the life I had come to embrace. It was wonderful, an understatement, until I realized my “friends” were party animals or very career driven. Jesus was nowhere on their radar. 

I had to find new friends. Urging by the Holy Spirit said I had to attend a singles event. 

I didn’t want to go.

The drive to a beautiful lake for a picnic brought only tears. I wanted and needed new friends but the people I’d observed in Sunday school were square, or so I thought. 

At a distance I stood watching the small talk and couldn’t wait for the catered food to arrive so I could leave. Finally, the fatted cow feast was served. I got a plate and sat at an empty table. The first person to arrive and sit across from me was a man that had caught my eye at Sunday school. His best friend and others filled in quickly.

It was easy to see he was a ringleader. All the women flocked to his side. Although he was kind and had inviting blue eyes, I would not be swayed. However — I could stay to play volleyball. 

The love story continues next week.

 

VICKY BRANTON is the Teche Life editor at The Daily Iberian.