The House That Insanity Built
By Sandy Spooner
Sandy is an author and teacher in Children's Ministry, a speaker, student, wife, mother of three boys and a disciple of Jesus. Sandy is currently writing her autobiography and worships at Hopewell Missionary Baptist Church in Wewntzville, Missouri.

"He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in him. Blessed is the man who makes the Lord his trust, who does not look to the proud, to those who turn aside to false gods. Many, O Lord my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you planned for us no one can recount to you; they would be too many to declare." (Psalm 40:2-5)

My earliest memories are from a housing project in Kansas City. I lived there with seven siblings and my mother. Nine people and one bathroom were the least of our problems.

My mother was the daughter of migrant workers. She had a third grade education and married at the age of 13. My (earthly) father was a maniac. His abuses were varied and extreme. At times my oldest brother, upon seeing my drunken father pull up in the driveway, would hide his siblings in a closet, under a bed, wherever, until the storm of another drunken rage would pass. You see, my biological father would beat as many people or things as got in his way, after which he would hold up a Bible and say, "I know if I died tonight I'd go straight to heaven". Often he would then pass out on the couch, with a Bible on his chest. Another storm would pass.

Abusers will use absolutely any threat to keep their victims from escaping. When threats on my mother's life quit working, my father would threaten to harm her mother if my mom tried to leave. I was two when he went to prison, but as so often happens, children adopt their parents' ways.

My second-to-the-oldest brother was 16 when he went to prison for armed robbery. Because of his good size he was tried as an adult. The lawyers told my mother they could get him off on a technicality. My mother declined the offer and hoped for rehabilitation. Weekend visits to the prison didn't exactly make for great conversation on the playground.

About this time my father was released from prison (unreformed). One night I heard a commotion and investigated. My sister quickly sent me back to bed. The next day at school I learned from Jackie Hawley what had happened. Her father owned a police radio. My third grade classmate informed me that my mother had attempted suicide. This was the loneliest day of my life. After everything I had experienced up to that point- this was the most soul emptying. Our weekends were now filled with visits to the State Hospital. Third grade was a tough year.

You know how some families can be dysfunctional but no one in the town would know or ever suspect. By all outward appearances everything seems rosy. That wasn't my house. We were a mess and everyone knew it.

During my grade school years I had heard about God on the playground. The message I received was that God did not like me because I was not a good kid, I didn't have a good family, and my mom had been-- divorced. By the time I was 14, I had pretty much decided there was no God. How could there be with so much misery, suffering and injustice?

My mother, after experiencing such great hypocrisy, refused to have religion in the house. Christmas was Santa. Easter was the Easter bunny and don't go bringing up any other fanciful notions thank you very much.

It wasn't until a sophomore horticulture class that anyone ever presented me with the notion that Jesus was not only real but also that He had something good to offer me. I read the New Testament for the first time at the age of 16. I remember thinking "This stuff is good. Those girls on the playground were wrong". I then promptly made a beeline in the opposite direction and spent the next four years anesthetizing myself.

After the birth of my first child I knew I had to give him a foundation that I did not have. I wanted to find out -just who is God and what does He want from me? I stepped into the doors of a church, although it was painfully awkward at first.

I learned that God's grace, God's mercy, and God's peace have always been available to me. I learned that because-Jesus Christ-"lives"-I-can-face-tomorrow, and so much more through God's amazing grace.

I stand before you as a Leader for Jesus. My particular ministry is with children. While most of us may never have a child like I was to come through our church programs, statistics tell us that they are out there. The children we serve most certainly will come in contact with them. If we can equip our kids to minister in truth, then we can change the world.

Your ministry may be with adults. Statistics again tell us that there are survivors in our midst: a co-worker, a neighbor, the guy at the gas station, the postal worker. I am not the only one who has experienced trauma or tragedy. However, Jesus IS the only one who can take those broken fragments and makes wholeness.

I have learned that Jesus Is Light, Jesus IS Salt, Jesus IS Love, Jesus IS Joy, and Jesus IS Peace. We all need Jesus regardless of our experiences. If we can communicate that to the people in our contact, we truly can change the world. If you'd like to know more about how to do that I would direct you to the instruction manual. (The Bible).

"Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 3:13,14)

(Editor's note: This was Sandy's testimony and life-story given in February, 2001, to the Leaders For Jesus which is a non-denominational Christian Fellowship group of St.Charles County, MO.)

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