I wanted to be HIS!

When I entered middle school my parents decided to divorce. My brother and I didn't understand what had happened between them. We just heard them say they didn't love each other anymore. Dad came to get us every other weekend and tried to be a good father. My mom and I didn't have a good relationship. I know she loved me, but we just couldn't talk like my father and I could.

My life changed. I became a trouble maker. Fighting at school and on the school bus became a release. Our neighbor, Marie Miller became my confident. She loved her Lord and lived out her faith. She prayed with me and for me. I was angry with God and the world. Nothing would be right again.

By the end of middle school both my parents had remarried. I resisted relationships with either step parent and became increasingly involved with activities at school. Cheer leading, drama club, chorus and track kept me busy and made me stay out of enough trouble so I would not have to go home.

In the summer of my eighth grade year, Mrs. Miller or Aunt Rie, as I called her, took me to revival meeting after revival meeting. She played the guitar and had taught me a few songs. She encouraged me to sing at the revivals. At one such revival the Holy Spirit began to prick my heart, but I refused to move.

At the next Sunday service I attended with my mom and step father, I walked down the isle where the pastor took my hand and said, "Let me pray with you, Child." He didn't discuss scripture with me or encourage me to be born again. He just prayed with me and said. "Now, I hope you feel better."

I determined that upon entering high school my life would be different. I would turn over a new leaf. I would stop being a bully. I got my hair cut and started carrying a bible with me everywhere. I even read it daily on the school bus to and from school. I went from being Vonda Butts school bully to Vonda Butts the Holy Roller.

All was fine until one afternoon on the school bus 2 boys began teasing me about my name. My temper flared and there went the self imposed changes.

Time went by. I spent weekends with my father and step mother. They attended church faithfully and my step mother was a wonderful example of a godly woman. They took me to a service at Back to Bethal camp meeting. It was at that meeting I met my SALVATION!

I can still smell the saw dust shavings. I even remember what I was wearing, a bright yellow blouse and navy blue calico skirt. This time when I walked the down the isle, it felt as if I wasn't walking at all. The place was crowded with people, but I felt as if I were the only one present. When I reached the front, I was met by a preacher whose face I recognized. He asked me if I had come to received Jesus Christ as my personal Savior. All I could do was nod. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. I knelt in the sawdust and was shown God's plan of salvation from the scriptures. I knew it! I didn't need another explanation, but I listened anxiously then was asked to pray for my salvation.

I asked God to forgive me. I wanted Jesus to save me and change me. I wanted the games to stop. I wanted to stop pretending. I wanted what Marie Miller had. I wanted what my father and step mother had. I wanted to be HIS!