When I first came to Daytona I thought it was exciting, as does anyone escaping a bleak and dreary life. I was an alcoholic, suicidal, divorced, battered woman with a drug problem. I thought coming to Florida would change all that. Instead, my drinking got even more out of control, I was arrested, and was slowly killing myself.
I needed help. I remember looking in a window at my reflection. I couldn't believe the woman I saw looking back at me. Am I that lost? Am I that sick?
One day I was walking down the street feeling sorry for myself, feeling worthless and unloved. I came across this little yellow building and felt led to ask some people what it was. They told me it was a church. Once I was walking by it and heard laughing and singing coming from inside, so I decided to check it out.
Boy am I glad I did! At first I was afraid, how could this big guy with all these tattoos be a pastor? I sat and listened though, and was hooked.
