Cracked Roots & Roses 34: Connections

Working at the spa put me in front of so many amazing women and men. I have formed lifelong friendships with a few—one of them is reading this now. Her name is Bridgette, and I consider her my friend. She never looked down on me, and I never felt judged because I wasn’t refined and worked in the service industry. She’s been the same from that day to this one. I thank God we crossed paths. She was my very first regular client in 2006.

Another young lady named Jessica came in one day with her mom for a manicure. Jessica was booked with me. She was a hippie surfer chick, complete with a bright smile and boho clothing. Jessica was a professional photographer. She traveled the world solo, snapping pics and surfing. I admired that about her; she was younger than me and had seen so much of the world. Years later, I would be invited to her studio opening. I was blown away by her work—there was everything from Buddhist temples to Shaolin monks to the Eiffel Tower. Jessica became a regular with me after a couple of visits.

I didn’t lead any interactions with “get saved!” No. I was just so excited about what God had done for me that I simply shared my personal testimony.

At Jessica’s second appointment, she casually told me how she didn’t appreciate missionaries going to remote villages and changing the people’s “rich culture,” to which I laughed. I laughed because I was once like her—I thought I knew better than God. She was so passionate in her argument, but it didn’t matter; God had already decided she would be saved.

After a couple of months of regular visits, she sent me a text on Christmas Eve asking if she could come to church with me in the morning. Christmas fell on a Sunday that year. I told her, “Of course,” though I wasn’t REALLY expecting her because it was a holiday. I was wrong. Twenty minutes into praise and worship, she came bouncing in with knee-high white boots, a mini skirt, a pink ruffle scarf, and a million-dollar smile. She sat through the entire service with her arms folded and jaw tight. She seemed unhappy to be there, but she didn’t leave.

After my pastor called for souls, he made a last call for someone who came to observe but doubted who God was. Then, he said something specific to her that I didn’t know and can’t remember, but right then, she stood up and basically ran to the altar. At my church, after you accept Christ, you are immediately baptized in water. I didn’t expect her to stay for that because, again, it was the holiday. I was wrong again.

I sat over by the room they took them into and waited to give her a big hug and welcome her into the family of Christ. A few minutes passed, but she didn’t come out, so I went to wait by the baptism pool. About 15 minutes later, she came out marching to the pool, hand in hand with the others.

She got baptized on Christmas day. She started attending foundation classes, and began going to church on a regular basis. Her smile was bright before, but this time she had the eyes to match that smile. She was joyful to a point, now that Joy was pure. She was on fire for the Lord and I couldn’t be more honored. She was casually dating when I met her, but stopped all of it when she got saved. Within a couple of years, she met her person, and they are now married, living in Naples, Florida, with two beautiful boys. I had the distinguished honor of being a bridesmaid in their wedding. That was my first time standing up in a wedding.

While all this was going on, I was starting to wonder about possibly putting myself out there again. I know today that when a man comes near me, God’s about to promote me. I believe this particular man changed how I saw myself on a fundamental level and opened the door to all I’ve experienced from that moment forward. I looked up to him because he sang worship and was older. That was a mistake.