Sister Rhonda

I was raised in a loving Christian household. Both of my parents raised me in a conservative Baptist church. I have two adopted sisters. Both are Native American. My mother could not have any more children after me, so my father and mother decided to adopt. We went to a public school up until 9th grade. At this point in time, we were having trouble with my two adopted sisters and so my parents chose to send us to a private school and get us away from the public school environment. We went to Maple Valley Christian School in Washington State. Eventually my sisters chose to leave our family and go back to their Native American families. During these times in my younger years, mainly while I was in elementary school, my cousins would call me a Bible Thumper. I would always hand out tracts and leave tracts at restaurants and wherever I could. I was made fun of, but I did not care. I just knew in my heart that I loved Jesus and I wanted to be in church every Sunday morning. I was baptized at a young age in Albany, Oregon after I had made that walk down to the altar confessing Jesus as my personal savior. To me, this meant everything. I didn’t know at the time, that there was so much more to salvation then what I was taught. I just knew what I knew and obeyed what I was taught. I was baptized along with numerous other children in the titles “Father, Son and Holy Ghost.” I continued in my path of going to school and going to church with my parents and sisters. However, in my late high school years, while still living with my parents, I would go to a friend’s house and we would “party” at a town called Matlock, and I would come home later, trying to cover up my inebriation and my “high” on marijuana. After graduating and turning 18, I chose to leave home and strike out on my own. I truly wanted to get rid of the “Bible Thumper” image and the “innocent image” that was always given to me. Once I moved out, I moved in with an old friend of mine who moved down from Maple Valley and got a job at Simpson Timber Company. I still clearly remember a house party my roommate and I went to. The Huskies were at the Rose Bowl, and we were watching it on TV. We had what was a 4-tube bong on the living room floor that we were all taking hits from. I remember a very pregnant lady there taking hits off the bong, and I came very close to yelling at her for doing such a thing while pregnant, but I kept my mouth shut. I graduated from partying with loggers in Matlock, to being introduced to the biker lifestyle. Along with joining a group called A.B.A.T.E. (A Brotherhood Against Totalitarian Enactments) I would party, do drugs, and drink. We would go to huge biker parties in Eastern Washington. This type of lifestyle lasted for well over 11 years. Still, to this day, I look back on so many instances where I should not be alive today. But what I did not know is that God had a plan for my life.

 My husband and I eventually moved from Washington State down to California. As many can relate, you will find the party no matter where you move to. The straw that broke the camel’s back was at a party in Anderson where I drank a fifth of Tequila and took out the sliding screen door at a pool party. I passed out and remembered nothing after that. I did the same thing up in Washington also, but with Vodka where I would try to drink the whole fifth and then pass out.

Somewhere in my wretched state, God was calling me. Eventually my husband and I decided it was time to start a family. We put this off for seven years. When I found out I was pregnant, all the drinking and drugs stopped. Thank God I had enough brain cells to do this. All I can say, is that it must have been Jesus speaking that still small voice in my life. Once I gave birth to our beautiful baby girl, I could no longer watch the horrible slasher movies I used to watch. I was working at the time and took maternity leave. But I chose to go back to work, so I was looking for a babysitter. One of the men who worked at Simpson Paper Company let my husband know that his wife was looking for extra income. I interviewed her at her house and decided to give her a try. But on numerous occasions when I would go pick up our daughter, she would complain about her crying. The last straw was when I went to go pick her up, she called our daughter “The baby from hell”. Talking with my husband I sent out word through the credit union where I worked, that I was looking for a babysitter. One lady came to our house, and I interviewed her and decided to give her a try. She was wonderful. What I did not know at the time, is that God was orchestrating this for my good. Eventually my babysitter started slowly talking to me about God’s Word and what it said about salvation. I did not take kindly to her talking to me like this. I grew up believing that all you had to do was “accept Jesus Christ as your personal savior” and you were good to go. I did not even entertain the thought that my worldly lifestyle kept me from going to heaven. I also looked back years later and realized not one time during those years was God even in my thoughts. My babysitter did not try to shove anything down my throat. She just took her time with me and years later I asked her how long it took for her to get it through my head what God’s Word said. She told me almost a year and that was due to the fact she did not want to rush me. I remember promising her I would go home and read the scriptures and pray, and I honored that. I remember sitting in bed reading about the parable of the ten virgins in Matthew. All the dots started to connect, and the light bulb finally went off in my head. I realized at that point in time, that I was not obeying God’s Word and that all I was taught in my youth was not necessarily accurate. I immediately knew I needed to get baptized in Jesus’ Name. On October 7, 1990, I was baptized in the precious name of Jesus in a horse trough. I had a lot of stuff to work through. I was seeking for the infilling of the Holy Ghost with the evidence of speaking in tongues, just like in the book of Acts. I would get discouraged but kept pressing on. I needed to trust in God’s timing - not mine. On July 4, 1993, God finally filled me with the Holy Ghost. We had an evangelist at our church service and all I know is that I was speaking in an unknown language and did not want to come back down to earth. I went from a good “Baptist” girl who thought she was saved to a drug dealing, alcohol drinking, biker chic, to an Apostolic God-Fearing Holy Ghost Saint of God. And I just want to give God all the Glory!