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WAILING INTO DANCING
My Testimony
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1993 was, by all accounts, a tough year for me. Living
in Temecula, CA with my boyfriend of 4 years, I was
struggling to stay motivated for entrance into respiratory
therapy school, study for math and physics classes, maintain
my relationship and make ends meet financially. It seemed
an overwhelming time for me; just getting my laundry done
and dinner cooked exhausted me. Studying and being sharp
at school took the last drop of energy I had. I was run
down more than physically and soon it became obvious to me
that what I needed was spiritual healing. I had always
believed in a 'higher power' and had been searching for
quite some time for "truth". I began reading the books of
Marianne Williamson ("A Course in Miracles" and "A Return
to Love") and found great comfort in her words. She taught
that when people die they are really 'freed' by being
released from their physical bodies and can then be MORE
present with us than they were in life. I had experiences
in which I saw and spoke with dead relatives. I had 'out
of body' experiences nearly daily. Marianne Williamson
preached love and peace and harmony and joy: all things
that I desperately needed in my life. As I meditated and
studied her books, I felt re-connected to a part of myself
I thought I had lost. I began to recall the training I had
received years ago in transcendental meditation and started
practicing those techniques again. I surrounded myself with
crystals, read about Buddhism, dabbled in eastern mysticism
and read every book by 'spiritual gurus' that I could get my
hands on. I had experiences that calmed and soothed me and made
me forget about the pain and unhappiness in my life.
For a while...
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but at others rang utterly hollow. In the darkest moments of
my depression, I was acutely aware of being totally alone.
No amount of "turning inward" could ease my pain, because
that was the SOURCE of my agony. I was looking to the DISEASE
to, in essence, cure ITSELF. The more I focused on channeling
energy inward, the more miserable I began to feel.
My boyfriend could not comfort me. He tried the best he
could to support me and give me the love I needed. But I
had a God-sized hole in my heart that no human could fill,
no matter how hard they might try. So meditation after
meditation and visualization after visualization, I dragged
myself along trying to see the face of God through all
the mist of new age mythology. The more I studied and
searched, the more depressed I became. Even the radical
environmentalist in me was tired. The woman who had
demonstrated with People for the Ethical Treatment
of Animals and lobbied on Capitol Hill was gone.
The woman who had preached veganism and converted
all her friends to an environmentally conscious
lifestyle had vanished. All the enthusiasm drained
from me and I was numb to the very things that had
once made me impassioned. I felt dead.
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by a phone call. My sister asked if I had heard the
'bad news'. It seemed a friend of ours who we had not
seen in years had collapsed on the sidewalk in front of
a nightclub. He had overdosed on drugs and went into
violent seizures and died. My friend was the same age
as me and he was DEAD. How could it be? How could he be
so stupid? How could someone so health conscious and
adamantly opposed to even pesticides on food pollute
his own body in this manner? I was furious with him!
How could God let such a beautiful young person with
so much to give to the world die on a sidewalk with his
little brother watching? How could He let the people who
supposedly loved and cared for him stand by and watch him
use these deadly drugs? I was furious with God.
I was hopeless and numb and sick. I called my friend's
family and got the information for the memorial and
funeral, though I knew I could not afford to fly there.
I tried to offer consolation, but what I really wanted
to ask was "WHY DID NONE OF YOU STOP HIM!?"
That question tortured me.
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frightened. It seemed so unthinkable that someone my
age could be dead just like that. In an instant. And
for no reason. It was so senseless, so stupid. Such
a waste. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that
the world was a cruel and awful place. I cursed God for
taking such beauty from the world. One day after class
I wandered into a field behind one of the buildings on
campus and just stood there staring at the hills and the
sky. I watched cows graze in fields off in the distance.
I don't know how long I stood there. But I remember one
thing: I had never felt more empty or alone in my whole
life.
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schedule in respiratory school. I got up at 6 am and
sometimes didn't return home until 11pm. Exhaustion
was not an option. I somehow managed to keep going.
My boyfriend took over the washing, cleaning and cooking
completely. He supported me and loved me the best he could.
He left me little notes in my car and in my notebooks for
school. He sent me flowers on the day of a big anatomy
and physiology final. He was the best man I could have
asked for. And yet I still felt utterly alone.
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urging of several friends from school I finally saw a
doctor. He diagnosed me with a rapid cycling mood
disorder and put me on anti-depressants. Slowly over
a matter of weeks I began to feel better. I can still
remember the day I laughed out loud for the first time
in what seemed like forever. A patient in the emergency
room had said something really funny. I went in the
bathroom and thanked my "gods" that I had gotten my
smile back.
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me. I remember crying myself to sleep that night with
pictures of the patient's face in my mind. It was a young
person, not much older than me, who had been crushed in
a terrible car accident. It brought to mind the death of
my friend and I seemed to become haunted by the thoughts
of his last hours. It must have been an awful way to leave
the world. It must have hurt so much. I hoped he was
numbed from the drugs and didn't feel it. I wondered
what they tried to do for him in the emergency room.
I hoped that he went quickly. I consoled myself with the
thought that he was in a beautiful, peaceful place full
of light. I was sure that he was with God.
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and was working part-time on the night shift. A fellow
therapist named Cherryl worked the same shift and so we
saw a lot of each other. She had helped me several times
when I was inundated with patients. I remembered thinking
how calm she always seemed. No matter how much the stress
level rose in a trauma call, she seemed to maintain a peace
about her that mesmerized me. I thought that she must be
Buddhist, or did a lot of yoga, and was really in touch
with her inner child! I thought she had it 'all wired',
emotionally speaking. She was the most centered,
'self-aware' person I had ever met. But one night after
a trauma patient died, I saw her leave the room with
tears streaming down her face. I finally felt like I
was not alone. She, too, suffered the way I did. It
hurt her the same way to see people in pain and dying.
She showed what I felt but was afraid to express for fear
of falling apart. I felt a strange connection to this
woman who loved so freely. I wanted to be like her.
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my colleagues and I sat down to eat in the cafeteria.
The usual conversations about trauma calls and
patients with ARDS (adult respiratory distress syndrome)
and various other topics ensued. Some were talking about
the cute new radiology tech who had just been hired.
Others were discussing their kids or what new thing
they were doing with their houses. I was staring at
a pile of instant mashed potatoes on my plate wondering
where all the people I had seen die were at that very
moment. Were they 'looking down on us'? Was my friend
'up there', too? I had 'seen' him sitting next to me
in the car while I drove home from work the other morning.
He smiled at me sweetly and sat there in silence as if
enjoying the ride. His presence comforted me. I felt sure
that all his pain was over. All that had tortured him
emotionally throughout his entire life was gone. He was
at peace. And I felt sure that he had come to visit me
to reassure me of that fact. I had lost touch with him
and mutual friends over the years and now felt like
somehow we could make up for lost time. That made
me feel warm and happy.
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Cherryl had joined the group at the table and a few
others had left. The topic of the conversation had
changed dramatically to one of a spiritual nature. I
was half-tuned into 'something about the Bible and
Jesus and salvation and resurrection', and half in a
daze staring at a button on Cherryl's lab coat. It said:
"CHOOSE TO BE HOLY". I had never noticed it before and
found myself wondering what on earth that meant.
It sounded so pious and self-righteous. But Cherryl was
the most down-to-earth and unpretentious person I had ever
met. Why would she wear a button like that? All at once
I found myself BLURTING out a question to her: "I have
a friend who died recently. How can I know he is in
heaven? I mean, how can I know he is at total peace
and not suffering? He is there, isn't he?" I had never
really thought of heaven as a literal place before that
moment and the notion struck me as rather odd.
Cherryl turned her face to me and gazed at me for
what seemed like a long moment. Her face was kind
and full of love. She furrowed her brow and asked me:
"did he know Jesus Christ as his personal Lord and
Savior?" I replied: "What in the world does Jesus
Christ have to do with it?." "Everything", she said.
"Everything."
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as she told me the that Jesus Christ is the only way
to eternal life in heaven and that those who deny Him
live forever in hell. I was horrified at the thought
that my sweet, gentle friend who had given so much
kindness to others could be burning in torment. He
and his family had been involved with some sort of
religious movement. I was sure that he had done this
'thing' that Cherryl said was necessary, this 'salvation'
thing. I was sure he was in heaven. He had to be.
He couldn't be in that awful place. He just couldn't.
If he was, then I didn't want to know the God who put
him there. Cherryl explained that God doesn't PUT us
there, but that we CHOOSE to go there. She explained
that God loves us and gives us every opportunity to
choose Him. Her tone was loving and patient despite
my angry backlash. I got up abruptly from the table
and went back to work without eating a bite. I had
had quite enough already.
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what Cherryl had said the other night. It was so
radically opposed to everything I had read or been
taught in my life that it caught my attention. It
was so absolute and final. And it really bothered me
that it just might be true. What if it was? What if
I died suddenly like my friend? Where would I go?
Would I rot forever in hell?
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I entered the women's locker room to change into
my scrubs. I excused myself as I saw Cherryl
inside changing. She said she had forgotten to
lock the door but that I was welcome to share the
changing area with her, as it was nearly time for
our shift to start. I am not shy, so I agreed and
locked the door. Over the last few days I had heard
some people referring to her as "The Reverend" and
I sort of smiled inwardly to myself. As we changed
and got ready for our night, we shared the same
mirror while putting up our hair (we were to work
together in the intensive care nursery that night).
I mentioned to her that I was reading a great book
that she might be interested in. It was all about
God and angels and what happens after you die.
("Embraced By the Light" by Betty J. Eadie).
I shared some of what I had read with enthusiasm,
hoping she would want to read the book. Really,
what I was hoping was that she would tell me MY
VERSION of the 'truth' was 'true.' She did not.
Systematically and quite lovingly, Cherryl
dismantled the ideology of everything I told her.
It amazed me. How could she be so pig-headed and
narrow-minded!? I was furious! How dare she rob
me of my joy!? That ended that conversation.
But she managed to sneak in an invitation to
come to church with her on Sunday.
I remember thinking: "that'll be the day!"
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nights 2 respiratory therapists could have. We
put 6 critical preemies on ventilators and took
turns hand-ventilating the ones that kept trying
to code (go into cardiac arrest). It was AWFUL.
Several of them needed surfactant (a drug that
is injected into their lungs to help them breathe).
This is a time-consuming procedure that needs to
be done precisely and monitored carefully. It takes
2 therapists to administer it and a lot of careful
attention to monitor the baby afterwards. There
were blood gases to draw and run, MORE deliveries
to attend, constant setting changes to be made.
Needless to say, we were BUSY!!! Neither of us
ate or sat down the entire 12 hours. I think I
went to the bathroom ONCE. I nearly fainted
from heatstroke under the intense warming lights.
There had been a sick call and everyone else was
getting hit with traumas and other emergencies.
We had to 'hold down the fort'. I remember very
clearly watching how calmly Cherryl dealt with
each emergent alarm. She treated the babies so
gently and lovingly, with great attention to
even the smallest detail. I admired that because
I tried to do that myself. I felt these babies
deserved every possible bit of tenderness and care
we could possibly give. I loved them and fought
for them with all I had. And I knew Cherryl did,
too. That night bonded us in a special way. We
recognized something in each other that we admired.
We both loved those kids and that made us become
friends, despite our differences.
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babies who survived that night, we got to talk
here and there on breaks. We often didn’t leave
the nursery; we stayed to help feed and bathe and
change and weigh and hold the babies to help the
nurses. I tried to chat about non-religious things,
but she always managed to steer the conversation back
to God. Sometimes it frustrated me, but I had become
more and more interested in what she had to say. I
was still wondering where my friend was: heaven or
hell?
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said something that I will never forget. I was
telling her all about what I THOUGHT about this and
what I THOUGHT about that how I THOUGHT this was
true, and that wasn't and she said this: "Jenny,
it really doesn't matter what you THINK. Truth is
true whether you believe it or not." You see, I had
somehow come to the notion that truth is only true
if one ascribes to it. But she was telling me
something altogether different. It was my first
encounter with the idea of ABSOLUTE TRUTH and it
changed my life.
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me my whole life. There was a right and wrong, a
good and bad. Real TRUTH brought order to the chaos
of the world. It was fascinating! Finally, after
countless invitations, I decided to go to church
with her on a Sunday evening.
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around at all the people hugging and smiling and
even praying with one another, I felt an instant
sense of excitement. I knew my life was about to
change. I felt like I was finally going to meet God.
As Greg Laurie stepped up to the pulpit and began to
preach I remembered thinking how ordinary he looked
how normal, how unlike a 'religious freak'. His
words were relevant, tough and pointed directly at
my heart. I KNEW God was speaking to ME. When he gave
the altar call, I got to the front as fast as I could.
Cherryl tells me I ran so fast she couldn't keep up
with me! She joined me a moment later to stand with
me and affirm her commitment to helping me grow in
Christ and support me in my new faith. I remember her
being there as one of the best moments of my life.
I could feel her arm around me, reassuring me that I
was doing the right thing. I prayed the sinner's
prayer and accepted Jesus Christ into my heart.
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words could not describe it. In retrospect, I feel
I received the baptism of the Holy Spirit at the same
moment I got saved. That night I witnessed to several
people in the parking lot of Albertson's grocery store.
I told my boyfriend with great excitement what had
happened. He called my Mom and told her I had joined
a cult.
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to break up with my boyfriend. A month later I was
moved out into my own apartment. I began reading my
Bible voraciously and praying for guidance to grow.
Cherryl patiently answered my constant barrage of
questions about God and the Bible. I researched a
lot of issues about science and Scripture and got
heavily into apologetics right off the bat.
I attended an apologetics course at Simon Greenleaf
University and gobbled up everything I could find
to read about the defense of the faith. I completed
the New Believer's classes at Harvest (which had
become my home church). Within 6 months I trained
to be a part of the discipleship team and began
counseling other new believers. It was a wonderful
time in my life. I finally felt free to love the way
I had always wanted to. It was like coming up for air
after a lifelong dive. I threw my anti-depressants in
the trash (not something I actually recommend, by the
way), and God moved radically in my life.
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her hometown in Oklahoma, where she currently lives
and works as a respiratory therapist. It was hard
to say goodbye to her, but I somehow feel she is
never far away. Friends like that become a part
of you somehow.
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been a rather rocky road. But Jesus has walked
with me the whole way. Every tear I've ever
cried is in His bottle. He knows the number of
the hairs on my head. What more love could
anyone want than this? What more could I ask than
that my wailing be turned to dancing? He is my
Beloved. I am so glad I will have eternity with
Him: I will need that long to tell Him how much
I love Him!
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inside front cover:
"Presented to Jenny, my beloved daughter in Christ,
our Savior and Redeemer by Cherryl DeCou
On: May 15,1994"
"Jenny, Be assured that your commitment to follow
Jesus is the greatest choice you will + have ever
made. Remember this: 'Blessed are those who hunger
and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be
filled.'--Matthew 5:6"
I am indeed filled. Filled to overflowing and
singing His praises in my heart...
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