“I understand your concern,” the doctor said. “But these are good drugs. They will help you, and they are not addictive. Tell me: What have you done in your lifetime that you really, really enjoyed?”
I thought hard. “Well, once my uncle and I went on a long hike for more than 100 miles in northern Sweden. It was wonderful.” The doctor promised me that if I took the medicine, I would one day be able to take that hike again. I went home willing to try. Three months later, I could walk my uncle’s dog in the forest and enjoy it.
One day when I was out walking, I found a little cabin on a lake. I inquired and found that while it had no electricity or running water, I could rent it for less than what I had spent each day when I was on drugs. I moved into the two-room cabin and soon was busy carrying water and other supplies. Somehow I found this simple lifestyle attractive and comforting.
When I returned to the doctor, he was pleased with my progress. He told me that he and his wife had been praying for me. Then I learned that he was a Seventh-day Adventist. I borrowed a Bible from a friend and started reading it. If it was God who had helped me get over drugs, then I needed to know Him better. I started in Genesis and read about 100 pages, until I bogged down in Numbers and put it aside.
The doctor told me about a health rehabilitation center run by Adventists and suggested I go there to regain my strength and energy. I fell in love with the place and the people. Many of the patients were Adventists, and they talked about what Jesus was doing in their lives. This rekindled my desire to know God better.
I had never gone to church, except to attend an occasional wedding or funeral, but I started attending the Adventist church at the rehabilitation center. I was impressed by the Bible study. I wanted what these people had; I wanted to be a Christian too. But I did not understand that I could just be a Christian. I thought there were some things I had to do before I could become a Christian.