• I believe in one sovereign God as creator of the universe.
• I believe that Jesus Christ died for my sins and rose again.
• I believe every person has a right to experience the unconditional love of JESUS. Each person is responsible to himself/herself to make a choice of faith.
• I believe in an ever-present Holy Spirit as my helper, received through my belief in Jesus Christ.
• I believe the Old and New Testaments to be the true, divinely inspired word of God. I read the word of God as an opportunity for HIM to reveal his will and wisdom, and bring guidance to me.
• I believe in practicing the everyday Lordship of Jesus.
• I believe I am obediently responding to God as I reach out to those who have yet to respond to JESUS, as well as reach out to encourage and teach those who already have a relationship with JESUS.
• I believe in teaching biblical truth that will result in changed lives.
• I believe each believer has gifts for ministry that are meant to be discovered, developed, released and appreciated.
• I believe that I am accountable to the Lord in all that I say, do and believe.

The story of how God grabbed my heart

It was June of 2001. I was in Hawaii-one of the most beautiful places on earth-but my life was unraveling. I was "on vacation" with my mom, my older son, Chris, and my two daughters, Tianna and Nicole. My husband was at home in Pennsylvania, and my younger son, Matt, was in drug rehab. My marriage was faltering under the stress of the past year, my girls were hen-pecking each other and my mother was in a chronically angry state. For the moment Chris was okay, but his second semester grades hadn't come out yet, so that all could change.

Why couldn't I even get a shower in peace? Calgon take me away...just two minutes in the shower without any screaming, fighting or hurt feelings.

Chaos erupted and my shower was over. "What's going on out there?" I hollered, as I struggled to step into a pair of shorts and once again assume the role of referee in yet another dispute.

My mother sat at the kitchen counter, her jaw set defiantly. "They," she cast her eyes disdainfully in my daughters' direction, sniffing for added emphasis, "won't listen to me. They are *not* my children after all."

My life was out of control, and I was on a mission to fix it. Don't ask me why I thought I could get my life in order when I couldn't even take a two-minute shower. While I was at it, I made a mental note to fix my mother too. A two-for-one special.

While I was still trying to make peace between the injured parties and get the girls and my mother back on speaking terms, Chris added to the conversation. He was relaxing in the other room, remote control in hand, channel surfing.

"Hey mom, check it out. This sounds like a book you should read."

What do I need more books for? I had a collection of self-help titles from Steven Covey to Dr. Phil, but so far they hadn't made much of a difference in fixing my life.

The girls were still fighting, my mother was sulking and my mind was whirling. I was in Maui, a land of promised rest and relaxation. What a joke.

"No, mom, really," came the voice from the other room. He must have been able to read my mind. "This book sounds really cool. You oughtta get it. It might help." He knew I was hurting, frustrated and exhausted. His brother was at rehab where we hoped his drug problem would be "fixed." The only problem was he didn't think he had a drug problem.

I managed to negotiate a cease-fire between the warring parties long enough to grab a glimpse of The Today Show, where Bruce Wilkinson, author of The Prayer of Jabez was a guest.

"Hey! Check it out. This book he wrote has changed tons of lives. Maybe it could change yours too."

Fat chance. How could reading a book and saying a simple little prayer every day for 30 days bring about such radical change? I thought about it briefly before being summoned back to reality by the continued arguing of unyielding combatants. I dismissed the promises of the book to a file cabinet deep in the back recesses of my mind, sighed and went back to frantically trying to sooth the hurt feelings of two children and one adult.

A couple of days later, when things weren't getting any better, I thought, "That's it. I've had it." It was time to go shopping for books to fix us all. So, off I went to Waldenbooks. It was my lucky day! There was a special: buy four, get one free.

I marched resolutely to the self-help section and pulled more books off the shelf, one for me, one for my mother...it didn't take me long. My shopping accomplished, I went to the front to pay for my books.

While I was waiting in line a woman came bursting through the front door practically screaming, "Do you have that book? Do you have that book?"

I turned to glance at the woman who had just entered Waldenbooks as if blown in by a hurricane, her eyes darting around, searching for the title in question. "You know, the book...that book...that little book everyone is talking about...you know...The Prayer of Jabez."

A chord of recognition struck in my mind. That was the name of the book Chris had been talking about that morning. I had tucked the title back into a corner of my mind. I watched the woman as she urgently waited for an answer to her question.

The clerk gestured to a little stand propped on the counter directly in front of me. There it was. The Prayer of Jabez. Positioned perfectly for purchase.

The woman lunged toward the counter and grabbed a copy, clutching it as if it were a million dollar winning lottery ticket. Perhaps she realized what she held was worth more.

I remembered...this was the title that promised so much. A transformed life, remarkable answers to prayer. I was skeptical and didn't immediately reach for my own copy. After all, I had my books all counted out. I had my "buy four, get one free" and adding another title didn't compute.

I picked up a copy. "Have you read this?" I asked the clerk.

"No, not yet, but we can't keep it in stock." She gestured to the display in front of me. "That's all we've got left, and they'll be gone by this afternoon."

I fingered a copy and glanced at the price. "Well, what have I got to lose? I've tried everything else. I might as well try this too. Anyway, it's on sale."

And so began a path on a spiritual journey I wasn't even aware I was on. I knew I had been searching, but I wasn't sure for what. There was something missing and all my attempts at self-correction and control had fallen short. Harmony was absent. The infrastructure of our family was crumbling. There had to be hope and there had to be healing, but so far the self-help authors hadn't delivered.

Skeptical curiosity fueled my desire to open the little book and read it. I couldn't imagine that such a small volume could have such a huge impact on people's lives. I read and re-read, and like a toddler embarking on an adventure of discovery, I entered a new world.

Remarkable changes occurred. I began each day praying the Prayer of Jabez. At first the words were stiff and mechanical punctuated with disbelief and cynicism. With time, the words became more sincere. "Bless me indeed." Please bring some healing to my hurting soul. "Protect me from evil so that I may not cause pain." I didn't want to cause or feel more pain. I yearned to understand the anger and hurt my son and my mother were experiencing. I wanted my family back. I wanted the cloud of confusion that hovered over my family to blow away.

My words took on yet greater urgency and sincerity. The way I perceived events began to change and I felt open to God in a way I had never imagined.

It wasn't long after returning from Hawaii when a good friend invited me to church and handed me a little card with a prayer written on it. "Here," she said. "Our pastor just finished a series of messages on this prayer, and I thought you might find it interesting." She was not aware of my recent reading although she was familiar with our family's heartache.

I glanced at the card and there were the words to The Prayer of Jabez. I let out a startled yelp and told her I would love to come to church, just not that weekend. I was going to see Matt.

She had gently and persistently invited me to worship with her family for years but I had not been ready.

But God had other plans for me that Sunday in June. I had every intention of going to see Matt, but my plans changed. I returned home around 10:30 Saturday night and called my friend to see if the invitation to church was still open for the following morning. She was surprised but delighted and she and her family picked me up for church the next morning.

Their family worshipped at a Mennonite church and I really wasn't sure what to expect. I know that I would never have anticipated the experience that I was about to have.

As I listened to the praise and worship of a family of believers I was profoundly affected. When the pastor gave his message, I felt as though he was speaking directly to me. An overwhelming sense of love and serenity settled over me as if strong but gentle arms were embracing and comforting me. The pastor ended his message with an invitation to accept Christ into our lives. I wanted to jump up and scream at the top of my lungs, "That's me! I do! I do!" but I was glued to my seat, unable to move. At the same time I felt a desperate need to openly invite Christ into my life.

God had everything under control.

The next part of the service was a time of sharing, where people can express their joys, concerns and requests. Even now my friend claims she never saw the microphone in my hand until I stood to speak.

Through choked back tears I expressed my pain, confusion and desire for Christ's healing love in my life. I sensed overwhelming relief but also uncertainty. It was at the same time both the most difficult and yet the easiest sharing I have ever done. I knew I felt comforted in a way I had never been before, as if I had "come home."

But now what? What did I just do? What I did know was that I was not alone. I had immediate support from this group of people. The love and support I received was incredible.

At the time, I didn't fully understand the impact of my decision to become a follower of Christ. It is a lifelong process, one that I embrace. And with each passing day, I am in awe of what it means to have Christ in my life. His mercy, His love, and His grace have become woven into the tapestry of my life.