Divine Intervention

This story will be published in the Cup of Comfort for Christian Women book that comes out in Spring 2011

Divine Intervention

I yanked open the door and launched the words at my fifteen-year-old son. “We’ll continue this in the morning!” We’d been arguing about a runaway girl Leon was dating, and now I was on my way out the door for a blind date with whom my friend Kathy had set me up. With my bad attitude lugging behind me, I slammed the door and stomped down the stairs to the carport.

My life was a mess. I was a single mom and a pack-a-day smoker. I loved bars and the lifestyle that accompanied the night scene. It was a comfort zone; I’d been raised in bars as a kid. Now, my son was going his way and I was going mine—but neither of us seemed to be heading in the right direction.

I arrived at the coffee shop, my nerves frazzled and definitely not in the mood for first-date dialogue. In a booth sat a thin man with a wiry, gray ponytail. I approached the table, and before I could speak, he asked, “You Renae?”

I plopped myself into the booth, resembling a spoiled teenager. With a forced smile, I said, “Hi. Are you Larry?”

I hadn’t wanted to go on this blind date in the first place, but for some reason, there I was. One minute I was fighting with my son, the next I was sitting in a restaurant across from someone I’d never met with a ponytail longer than mine. I thought to myself, Kathy, what have you gotten me into? I could not wait to call her in the morning. Battle number two was placed on the docket, right after my postponed battle with Leon.

After Larry and I exchanged the usual “how are yous,” I wasted no time in telling him I had left mid-battle with my fifteen-year-old son to meet him. When I stopped complaining, Larry began telling me about how Christ could give me peace and direction in my life. He proselytized for two solid hours. Though I wanted nothing more than to shut him up and get out of there, I listened.

When Larry’s sermon ended, I thanked him for the pie and coffee. Before we left, he asked if I’d like to go see The Nutcracker with him. I agreed because he said he had an extra ticket for Leon to go with us.

I drove home with new things on my mind. While wanting to reject all the “God stuff,” I was curious. Something had drawn me to listen to Larry’s preaching—and it wasn’t Larry. It was something inside me that recognized some truth in what he’d said, and I wanted to know more.

Morning arrived, and I no longer had a score to settle with Leon; it simply didn’t matter anymore. As for Kathy, I wasn’t sure if I was glad or mad about the blind date she had set me up with. So I surrendered that battle too. I was on a new quest of my own. For now, I wanted to begin my search for this “truth.”

I told Leon about my date with Larry and the conversation we had about God. The only thing Leon said was, “That’s rad.” I apologized about the blow-up the night before and asked forgiveness.

I began visiting the Christian bookstore several times a week. Not having the money or the desire to purchase anything, I sat on the floor and thumbed through Bibles, Bible studies, and commentaries. I looked up everything Larry and I had discussed. Though I continued to date him, it was not because I wanted a relationship with him so much as I wanted to find this “truth”—this peace, this “God” Larry promised was real and could heal my hurts.

Wednesday evenings, Leon went with a neighbor boy to a youth group at the church across the street. I thought the kids just got together and played basketball. I didn’t ask questions about the youth group activities. However, I was concerned about some of his other friends from school, such as the runaway girl he hung around with. They were certainly a different group than the youth group kids from the church. But I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was that set them apart.

Larry seemed surprised that I didn’t know more about God, considering I had a son who had been attending a youth group for over a year.

“Why would I know more about God?” I asked.

“Certainly they talk about Christ and pray at youth group,” he said.

“He’s never mentioned it. Guess I’ll ask him,” I said. Privately, I thought it was odd that Leon had not really said anything about what went on at youth group. We were like best friends; he told me everything. I couldn’t imagine him not telling me about something as important as praying and discussing God.

The next time I saw Leon, I asked, “Do you kids pray at youth group?”

“Yeah,” he answered, “but that’s when I go out and ride my skateboard.”

“Do they talk about Christ?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmmm” was the only reply I could muster.

Leon and I started talking more about God.

“Mom, don’t get too into that ‘God stuff,’” he warned me.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not,” I said. In the back of my mind, though, I wondered why he’d tell me such a thing.

The next Wednesday, he came home very excited. “Hey, Mom! The youth group is going on a trip called ‘Urban Plunge.’ They’ll be taking food and blankets to the homeless and meals to AIDS victims. I really want to go, Mom. Can I?”

They left Friday afternoon. Two days later, when Leon got back, there was something different about him. He was so alive, so excited about the homeless people and people with AIDS he’d helped. And suddenly he was “into God.” I didn’t know what happened, but whatever it was, there was no doubt that my son was a changed young man.

Two weeks later, Larry and I had a heartfelt discussion. He asked me if I wanted to commit my life to Christ. We bowed our heads and prayed together. I asked Christ to come into my life, forgive my sins, and change my heart. Up until that evening, I was still hanging out in bars, drinking too much, and smoking those Salem Light 100s.

The day after I accepted Christ, I knew I would never go into a bar again. The desire was gone. A week later, I couldn’t stand the guilt I felt every time I lit a cigarette. I felt as though I were slapping God in the face, inhaling poison after He had just saved my soul. I had read in the Bible that my body is the temple of Christ. Smoking just didn’t feel right.

I stood in front of a mirror looking at myself holding that smoldering cigarette, and I prayed: “Jesus, if you really exist, and if you really saved me, prove it by removing my addiction to cigarettes. I promise to break my habit of buying them if you will take away my addiction.” After twenty-one years of smoking, I put out the cigarette and said, “Thank you, Jesus.” That was in March 1992. To this day, I have had no desire to smoke again—God’s proof to me that He did, indeed, save me.

I told Leon I had quit smoking. But he just shrugged it off. He had heard that promise so many times before.
Several weeks passed. One day Leon said, “Hey, Mom, you really did quit smoking, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I really did,” I said. “Now that you’ve asked, I’ll tell you how.”

I explained that I had accepted the Lord and made a commitment to live my life according to Christ’s word. I explained how I prayed that the Lord would deliver me from smoking. I told him I had become a Christian.

Leon looked stunned. But not more stunned than I must have looked when he then said, “I did too!”

“What?” Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

He explained that because he’d told me not to get too into that “God stuff,” he was afraid to admit he’d become a Christian. With the “truth” now revealed, we rejoiced together.

The next Sunday, I went to the church where Leon had been spending his Wednesday evenings. I joined the choir, Leon got involved in the youth choir, and our lives were completely sold out to God.

I soon realized that Larry talked a good talk but did not walk the good walk. He dabbled in drugs and drank a lot. I found him to be cruel and verbally abusive to his children. When I began walking with Christ and questioned some of this behavior, he quit talking about Christ. We no longer had much in common.

Eighteen years later, Leon is married and the father of two beautiful boys that he and his wife are raising up in the Lord. I am now married to the man God had been preparing me for all these years.

I am convinced that God knew that if he had sent me a man who was walking the walk before I was ready, I wouldn’t have been interested in that “God stuff.” The Lord met me exactly where I was at the time—and rescued both me and my son. It was an amazing orchestration of God’s love, provision, and faithfulness. And I know He is not done with me yet.

—Renae Tolbert

Renae Tolbert (“Divine Intervention”) lives in Redding, California, where she enjoys photographing nature and wildlife. She has won several awards for her photos and has been published in Birds & Blooms magazine. In addition to writing and being a photographer, she enjoys hiking and mountain biking with her husband, Herb.