I tell people that the Lord found me because at this point of my life I certainly wasn't looking for him. As a young girl I was incredibly hurt by my mother. My spirit had been broken, battered, and emotionally abused. I acted out and was well on my way to self destruction when one day I attended church with a friend from school. I never would have imagined what the Lord was preparing me for.
I had never seen anything like what I saw that day. There were people at the alter on their knees with tears in their eyes. I found out later that no one had died and in fact there was no real reason for this radical flow of emotion.
I had enjoyed myself so much that I continued to go with her on a regular basis. I began to spend time with the youth group and made friends of my own. At this time in particular I was there for the boys and the friends that I had made with no serious interest in what was being taught in the youth group. None the less, I continued attending the youth services (for the boys) for about 2 more years when one day the Lord would reveal himself to me in a powerful way.
I was 15 years old and in high school by now when on this particular day I had been witnessing to a boy in my ceramics class. I was on my way to becoming a better christian. I had finished my assignment and asked the teacher if there was anything else I could do. He instructed me to help the teachers assistant in cleaning the clay machine. Teachers assistant was busy at the moment and showed me what exactly he needed me to do. I began cleaning the clay off of the sides of the machine and placing the excess near the entrance of the inside of the machine. I pulled my hand back and the blade had taken hold of my thumb and very slowly began to take the rest of my hand into the machine. At this very moment I knew that I was in danger. I spoke the words "JESUS HELP ME" and then proceeded to yell for help. I never cried, I was instructed to stay calm and focus and I did do just that. I began to pray as I arrived at the hospital. Scared and confused, all I could do was pray. I began to cry as the doctors spoke of surgery and asked his Holy Spirit to hold my hand.
As I was taken in and prepped for surgery I was wheeled out by the waiting room where my entire youth group and family members had been waiting for word. Instantly I began to feel the presence of the Holy Spirit and a calmness had come over me.
11hrs of reconstructive surgery and an almost certain report from the doctor that my hand would have to be amputated by the following week was of no worry to me as I knew that I was no longer alone. What I asked of his Holy Spirit he had granted. I did not just believe this to be true but I KNEW IT! Matter of factly.
The Doctors believed I would never be able to recover and they had convinced my mother that I would rely on my left hand for nearly everything for my entire life. I told my mother that she did not know the power of the Holy Spirit and recovered over 85% in two years. I believe today that he picked me. I still don't know why but I am grateful that he did because I am no longer allowed to not believe.