On July 16, 1963, when I was 29, and unable to stop being immoral, I fell on my knees and cried out to God, ‘I don’t care what You do to me… I don’t care if I never see another man as long as I live. None of us knew then that Tom was bipolar.Īs I stood in the living room of my rented apartment I shook my fist in the face of God and cried out, “To Hell with You, God, I’m going to find someone to love me.” Like Israel, I played the harlot (Ezekiel 16:30-31), looking for love in all the wrong places. Dreams shattered, and with unbiblical counsel, I left my husband, Tom.
Why is taking people to Israel and teaching them God’s Word where it happened, my favorite thing to do? Let me tell you how it all began.īy the time I was 27 years old, I was married, divorced and the mother of two sons.
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