It was my first week of 7th grade in Deckerville, Michigan, when I befriended Terri Young. We rode the same bus together, made fun of the bus driver together (sometimes I still feel bad for that), were in band class together, and had a sleep over or two that year. She lived about a mile down the road from me, and had just moved to the area when I met her. And I would say we were pretty good friends.
That is, until a bunch of boy drama got in the way (we were 7th graders, after all).
Anyway, two or three years of ignoring each other later, Terri invited me to her youth group. At that point, my life was completely different since our 7th grade friendship. My parents had since divorced, a new stepmom, stepbrother, and stepsister had moved in with us, and I had traded regular attendance in a Catholic church every Sunday for no church and a complacently skeptical opinion of GOD. I didn’t really enjoy being home during that time (not that I contributed to a welcoming atmosphere myself), so I agreed to go. Anything to get out of the house, right?
That Wednesday, while waiting for Terri and her family to pick me up, I started rethinking the whole ‘church’ thing. Not to mention, I was nervous about all the new people I would have to meet, while Terri and I had just barely reinitiated our friendship. I decided to bail. Picking up the phone, I rehearsed in my mind the lie I would tell her to get out of my obligation. The phone hadn’t rung twice before I saw their van pull in the driveway. Taking it as a sign, begrudgingly, I went.
I remember very little of that night. Playing pool in the basement of the house, hearing my first Christian music (Diverse City by Toby Mac, represent!), the heart-flutterings of a shy high school girl, and a fragment of a prayer that changed my perspective on life. “Dear God, I just want to thank you for tonight, and for Melissa being here with us…”
That’s all I remember. And yet, that prayer somehow brought me to three very important realizations:
1. Someone else cared about the fact I was there. Which, for an attention-seeking 15 year old going through family problems, meant a lot.
2. Somehow, I just knew that it mattered to GOD that I was there, too. Somehow, I don’t know how, I just knew it (now, of course, I realize it was the first movement of the Holy Spirit in my life!).
3. This prayer…it was like a conversation. With a person. It was real, heartfelt, genuine. Coming from a Catholic background, I was used to rote and written prayers. The apostle’s creed. Praying rosaries. The “God bless mommy, God bless daddy, God bless…” prayer I had spoken every night as a child. But this…I had never heard of this. And this changed my perspective of God. Slowly, but surely.
After that first night, I eventually joined the bible quiz team, and started memorizing GOD’s word, before I had even fully accepted GOD in my life! Several months later I was baptized. And I spent every day I could with Terri and her family. She and her brothers became my closest friends (no matter how much they teased me). Their house became my ‘home.’ And her parents took me in like one of their own.
Which brings me to a woman that I want to introduce all of you to. Her name is Debbie Young. In this story, Terri’s mother. In my heart, a dearly loved mother figure in my life.
When I look back at my testimony, to those beginning years where GOD produced the first moments of faith, belief, and trust in Him, I could point to a dozen figures that have taken me in as their own. I could tell you of all the people that showed me the Love of GOD before I was even fully convinced of His existence. When I think of these people, I feel like they were GOD’s way of wrapping His arms around me and taking care of me. My rock, and my fortress, and my shelter, beneath His wings, drawn close to Him. And the first of those figures are Curt and Debbie Young. Thank you all, and praise GOD.
Debbie had a heart attack this last weekend, which led to a blood clot in her brain, which led to her going home to be with the Lord this week. One of the things I always loved about her was how she always seemed to be in a good mood, and cheerful, no matter their circumstances. I can still remember her laugh, which I heard so often, and I know now that it is free to resound in the heavenly realms. With Jesus’. I love you, Debbie.
And to all the other Youngs, you’ll see me soon. 😉 Thank you for the role you all played in helping me fall in love with Jesus.
