Jeanne's Story

For a long time, "broken" wasn’t a strong enough word to describe my life. It was completely dysfunctional, angry, and entirely devoid of meaning. I wasn’t a good wife, I wasn’t a good mother, and I wasn’t a good friend. Worse than that, I wasn’t even a good person to myself. I wasn't just broken; I was fragmented into a million pieces.

In my absolute desperation, I found myself begging for help from whatever or whomever might be listening. And then, I heard the Holy Spirit speak clearly to me: "Go to church."

I had never stepped foot inside a church a single day in my life. My immediate, internal response was pure fear. “If I go to church, either the building will burst into flames,” I thought. “Anything but this.”.

The fear ran deep, rooted in a warning my mother had given me long ago. She always told me that if I ever went to church, they would tell me to leave because I didn't belong there.

But despite the terror, I drove there. I parked, walked up to the building, and was absolutely scared to death.

Then, I saw her.

She was a lovely lady wearing a beautiful dress in my favorite color—yellow. She smiled, welcomed me, and warmly said, "Enjoy service today."

As I walked past her, I braced myself. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, expecting her to call out after me: "Oh, wait a minute. You don't belong here. You need to leave. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave now."

But those words never came. Instead, what that lady in the yellow dress conveyed to me was pure compassion, acceptance, and kindness. In that single interaction, she made me realize that maybe I wasn't as broken or as wrong as I had always believed. She provided the exact kindness that I so desperately needed.

When the worship music began, the emotions completely overtook me. I started to cry, and I simply could not stop. When the pastor began his message, my mind was screaming: “Stop talking about me! Stop talking to me! How do you know this about me? How do you know I am this broken?”. I honestly have no idea what specific words he said that day, but it was everything my soul needed to hear.

After the service ended, I waited. I sat there until every single person had left the building. Then, I ran out to my car, shut the door, and bawled my eyes out. I knew deep down that something profound had happened, and that I was different—even if I couldn't yet explain what that difference was. I just remember thinking, "I don't know what I'm doing here, but I know I have to come back."

That was four years ago, and I have been coming to District Church ever since. Today, my life looks very different, and that initial experience is the entire reason I do what I do now. I serve because I want to help bridge the gap for other people—to take them from where they are and connect them into a relationship with Christ so they never have to go through life alone.I love serving out front, watching people come up the walkway. I look at them and think, I’ve been there. I know exactly what those feelings are.

If there is one thing I want everyone who serves to understand, it’s this: every single action matters. Every smile, every handshake, whether you are serving coffee or standing on the prayer team, has an impact. We are affecting people on levels we cannot even begin to imagine. We have the opportunity to do for someone else exactly what that lady in the yellow dress did for me.

If I could see her again today, through my tears, I would look her in the eyes and tell her that she was instrumental in changing my eternity. With my absolute heart wide open, I would thank her. Because to me, she made all the difference in the world. - Jeanne