I was born into a wonderful family, and am the oldest of two children.
We four were close as a family, and we lived in a big, beautiful
old farm house in rural Bartlett, Illinois.
Growing up, there was little talk of faith or religion in our home.
Every year at Easter, when we were coloring eggs, my Dad
would make his traditional "Holy" egg -- the one with
the cross on it and the words "He Is Risen". We would respectfully
say, "Awww, Dad's Holy egg!" and we would go on about
our egg coloring, our yearly brush with religion over.
We were busy, happy and hard-working people
who each had talents and ambitions. Music --
specifically, the cello -- was my talent and ambition,
and I pursued it passionately.
I had always felt a void in my heart, like something was
missing and it was that void that drove me so deeply
into my music. I thought that with my talent
at playing the cello, I would achieve success and
that would fill the void. I would no longer feel like
something was missing once I was successful.
At the age of 18, I left rural life behind and went
to live in my own apartment in New York City
so that I could attend The Juilliard School of Music
and pursue my dream of a career as a concert cellist.
My dreams did not materialize the way I had envisioned.
Having always been recognized as an immense talent,
I harbored a fantasy that the music world would
open wide its doors for me once I arrived in New York City.
I was not prepared in the least for the melting pot experience
at Juilliard, where every person is immensely talented,
not to mention fiercely competitive.
Almost immediately, I realized without admitting it
to myself or to anyone else that
I had no idea, really, what I was doing.
My only foundation in life had been my driving belief
that my talent at playing the cello was
my purpose for existence, and having that
belief shaken so strongly as it was
was an incredibly disorienting experience,
one I did not know how to deal with.
While at Juilliard, my only contact with religion
was when I occasionally became freshly aware
of that void in my heart and, trying to find a way to fill it,
I went to visit churches of different denominations,
to see which I might like, but none made any real difference.
After living on my own in New York City for 5 years,
and having graduated from Juilliard with my bachelors and
masters degrees in cello performance,
I temporarily moved back into my parents' home in Bartlett,
as I needed to figure out what direction my career would take.
My parents wisely did not want an adult child to feel
she could live at home indefinitely, so I was given a time
frame of a year. I could live at home for one year while I
established myself into my musical life. I was flying
around the country, taking auditions for major symphony orchestras.
It's extremely competitive, with hundreds applying for
any one open position, but I was making the finals often,
and was certain I would win a position and get my start.
To earn a little spending money for myself, I took a part-time job.
There was a co-worker there who invited me to his church.
This fit into my plan of trying churches of different denominations --
and it did not hurt that this co-worker was a very appealing young man.
The church was quite different from any church to which I had ever gone.
The building itself was nothing special--in fact, it was merely a house
that had been converted to a church building. This struck me as
somewhat embarassingly "homemade", yet I was intrigued.
After my visit, the pastor wrote me a letter in which he said,
"Accepting Christ as your Savior is the most important decision
you can ever make, and I hope you will make that decision soon."
The letter made me slightly uncomfortable,
and yet a seed of conviction had been planted.
Many people are presented with an opportunity
to accept Christ as their Savior,
and many people put this decision off.
I was no different.
The young man from work -- his name was Harry --
presented me with the gospel plan of salvation two times,
and each time I rejected it. However, after the second rejection
I did make the following statement to Harry:
"I feel as if I am swimming upstream against the
current and I cannot hold out much longer."
On January 2, 1987, Harry knocked on my door and
invited me out for a walk. While on this walk, he once more
presented the gospel plan of salvation to me.
He made the statement to me, "You might have a little voice
inside of you telling you that what I am saying is right...
you should listen to that voice. It is the Holy Spirit knocking
at your heart's door, and it won't keep knocking."
Well, I did have a little voice inside of me telling me
that what he was saying was right, and it surprised me
that he knew that! It also scared me that I might
lose my opportunity...so, in the driveway of my family home,
I bowed my head, prayed a prayer asking Jesus
to enter into my heart, forgive me of all my sins, and save me.
I can tell you from my deepest heart, it was
the best thing I ever did. It's the only thing I ever did
that really mattered for eternity. It was the one thing I could do
to fill the void I had felt in my heart for so long,
and it truly is the most important decision anyone can ever make.
I would be thrilled and blessed if someone reading this
would come to the same decision I did that night.
If the still, small voice is speaking to you,
click below for a clear presentation
of the gospel plan of salvation.
Incidentally, that appealing young man
became my husband on September 12, 1987!
His name is Harry White, and he operates his own
hardwood flooring business. We live in Merrillville, IN
and we attend First Baptist Church in Hammond, IN.
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