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Mary moved her hands down my back and the light exposed darkness in my heart, the garbage and the slime.  It was as though I knew that light, God, could not live inside me unless the darkness in my heart was gone.  I did not want to tell anyone what was there - my hurts, my pain, my rage.  Mary’s hands were still and quiet.  With closed eyes I waited.  I knew I had to let it go if I wanted the Light to stay.  I cried out, “I HATE the world for being mean to me! I HATE my husband for not understanding me!  I HATE . . .”  It all broke loose.  I sobbed and cried and talked until there were no more words and no more tears.  My face and clothes were dripping wet.  I opened my eyes and Mary handed me a box of tissues and I wiped my face and neck. 

“Feel better?” she asked.  I nodded. 

“You may need to come back for more treatments. I call this kind of prayer ‘treatments,’” Mary explained.

I drove home.  I had no words to describe what was happening.  I just knew I felt better - light and free.

At home, as I lay on my bed, I had a vision.  I saw myself as a very small person standing in front of the great and mighty God.  I was again, for just a moment, the pitiful little girl in rags, with hair smelling of kerosene, looking up to find God’s love.  With a sob, I whispered, “You really do love me?”

“Yes, I do!” came down from God, with a smile that still fills my life with Light and Love. 

First God washed away my guilt and shame.  Then He promised to be with me as I went through drug withdrawal to live without drugs or psychiatrists. 

God became the director from the moment I knocked on the Door.  I would never be the same.