My Faith Story

The Biggest Surprise of My Life:
How a Nice Jewish Gal Came to Know Jesus

By Laura Mawer
Scripture quotations marked (KJV) are taken from the public domain King James Version of the Holy Bible, 1987.
Scripture quotations marked MSG are taken from THE MESSAGE, copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 by Eugene
H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Scripture quotations marked (NHM) are taken from the New Heart English Bible: Messianic Edition of the Holy Bible, edited by Wayne
A. Mitchell. Public Domain 2008-2018, Update April 1, 2018 (a).
Scripture quotations marked (NIV) are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984,
2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New
International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™
Dr. Greenberg, Judi, Michael, Mimi, and Lisa are the real names of people in my story. Everyone else’s name I changed.
Prologue
It was right in front of my nose, but I couldn’t see it. I was in my favorite college class one brisk fall
morning at Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin. I loved the luxury of intimate classes at that small
liberal arts college. Dr. Greenberg was challenging us with a famous optical illusion as we lounged in a
circle of overstuffed chairs and couches.
Maybe you’ve seen the same mind-boggler. Embedded in a simple drawing is a picture of an old
woman and a beautiful princess. The intrigue is that the eye can only focus on one drawing at a time. While
everyone in my class was having a good time switching back and forth from the old woman to the princess,
for the life of me, I couldn’t find the princess.
“C'mon, Laura. She's right there,” Dr. Greenberg urged me on. He even traced his finger along the
princess's profile, but I was still stuck on that darn old woman. Then finally, as if a light went on in my
head, I was able to see the princess. What a beautiful “aha!” moment that was. It was a moment I recalled
the night I became a believer in Jesus the Messiah. Just like when a light went on in my head, and I
could finally see the beautiful princess, a light went on in my understanding, and I could finally see the
beautiful truth.
Heartstrings
I have to tell you, it’s the biggest surprise of my life that Jesus is real and that He’s God. I
thought being Jewish meant you didn’t believe in Jesus. God had to do some pretty major work to
expose that lie to me.
© Abiding Branch Inc. 2018 All Rights Reserved 1

I’ve always loved being Jewish. It’s who I am. If you could peer deep down into my being, I
mean really catch a glimpse of how “Jewish” is imprinted on my soul, then you’d see my own heartstrings
intertwined with those of my ancestors, going all the way back to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Those
strands hold together a living collage of personal memories—slivers of sights, patches of sounds, waves of
flavors, aromas, and experiences. Together they comprise the very fabric of my Jewish identity. Let’s see if
I can give you a peek at that collage, so you can see how strong that identity is. I hope this will help you
understand how impossible it was for me to believe in Jesus, apart from God Himself intervening.
And He did.
Two tall white flickering candles stand with dignity, each in an antique silver candlestick. They
illuminate an orange-crayon scribble on a scrap of sky blue, about the size of your hand—my attempt at
four to draw the burning bush. Now take in a long deep breath. Feel the air nurture your lungs. Exhale
slowly. Close your eyes for a moment and continue to breathe. If this brings any sense of peace, then
you’re catching a glimpse of the calm those Sabbath candles ushered into our home every Friday night.
My nose is buried in a Hebrew prayer book. I learn Jewish prayers in Hebrew school from ages
eight to thirteen. My eyes scan a page from right to left, as I recite the strange rhythmic words. Though I
don’t comprehend the Hebrew, my heart is aware of God as it absorbs the Jewish sounds.
A fully lit Hanukkah menorah on the kitchen counter casts its warm glow on presents. They’re
brightly wrapped in blue and gold. Mommy’s chicken soup simmers in a large pot on the stove. Its soothing
aroma warms us all up on a snowy December night. My little sister and I giggle as we kick each other under
the table waiting with thrill for Mommy and Daddy to say it’s time to open presents.
The crunching sound of Mommy breaking up sheets of matzo in the kitchen spills into the rest of the
house. Soon egg-soaked pieces sputter in a fry pan, and I can’t wait to gobble down this Passover treat
with cinnamon-sugar.
MAH-tzah
unleavened bread—a huge cracker
(Photo: David R. Tribble)
But fluttering butterflies in my tummy loom over the entire day. I’m dreading the moment when I have to sing
solo The Four Questions song at our big family Seder that night. When it’s time, Daddy He winks at me with
a smile. The butterflies disappear, and I sing with confidence. Then we continue the Seder by reading aloud
the story of our people’s exodus from Egypt. Every year this story captivates my imagination.

Imagine a deep, rich violin melody. Languid, smooth, mesmerizing. It hums, descends to wallow,
then crescendos to high-pitched and quick, exploding at the top of the scale. Then the notes settle back to
deep, rich. This music expresses the heart of my people. The music of my own heart was born out of theirs.
The music transforms and takes on a Middle-eastern flavor. Dancing to a clipping rhythm, a group
of college students rush in an Israeli-dance circle through the breezy summer air. Hands flail, feet jump and
slam back against the pavement, bodies twist, turn. Someone hoots, another screeches. I’m the one with
the two left feet struggling to keep up. But the movement and melody stir my soul and melt my heart into the
spirit of my people and my God.
The same collage shows me in synagogue every year on the High Holidays praying one inaudible
plea. The prayer oozes out of every pore of my being, crying out to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I
ask Him to heal Gramma’s crippled legs. Though He doesn’t heal her, I never doubt God hears my prayers.
Standing next to that woven collage is a mammoth bulwark spanning from the north side of eternity
to the south. It’s a million feet wide and a thousand feet thick. Its below-surface foundation is a tangled web
of mile-long steel-like fingers, thick as tree trunks, embedded in the soil of my soul. On one side of that
gargantuan barrier is me. On the other side is Jesus waiting for the perfect time to tear it down so I’m no
longer separated from Him.
While I lived on my side of that humongous divider that separated me from Jesus, He allowed a lot
of pain in my life. Though I grew up in a happy loving family, my life outside our home was filled with
difficulty and rejection. This caused a deep inner sadness in me that lingered for years into my adulthood.
Without going into detail, I’ll just say I wasn’t a happy camper. I wondered why God allowed so much
struggle and sadness in my life. I was raised to believe He was all-powerful and all-good.
My sadness caused me to embark on a fifteen-year journey in search of joy and peace. The
search began in the fall of 1980, my junior year of college. Over those years I read self-help books galore,
spent oodles of time and money on therapists, counselors, and group therapy. I tried being a religious Jew,
did The Forum—a program that developed out of sixties-era EST—and I embraced New-Age philosophies,
like karma and past lives. But my search eventually hit a big fat dead end. That’s when Jesus made it clear
to me who He was. I can’t wait to tell you how that happened. Hold on tight. I’ll get to that part. But first let
me explain why the dimensions of that enormous barrier that stood between Jesus and me were extreme.
That way you’ll appreciate even more that He blasted it into smithereens.

Jewish & Jesus
There’s a ton of variety in what Jewish people believe, but there’s stone-solid consistency in what
we don’t believe. And as far as we’re concerned, there’s no such thing as a “Jew for Jesus.” If you’re
Jewish, you can be religious—or not. You can believe The Scriptures—or not. You can observe the Jewish
holidays—or not. You can follow Buddha, the Dali Llama, a guru, or even be an atheist—or not. If you’re
Jewish, the general attitude is you’re free to believe what you want and still be considered Jewish.
BUT, if you say you believe in Jesus, then watch out. Jesus eclipses all
that’s recognizably Jewish about you. It can damage and even destroy
Jesus eclipses all that’s
precious relationships. Why is that? I’m glad you asked.
recognizably Jewish about you.
The Jewish community generally sees those of their own who
believe in Jesus as traitors. That’s because the name Jesus Christ has
been used as a weapon against our people all through the centuries. The
Eastern-European pogroms are a heart-wrenching example. The pogroms
were violent assaults against our people through the 1800s until the early 1900s. Pogrom attacks included
the destruction of property, beatings, rape, and murder. What often spurred these attacks was the
accusation that the Jews killed Christ. The threatening label “Christ killer” made its way to America, and
people in my own family had been tormented with this name-bomb.
The most devastating example of anti-Semitism in the name of Christ was the Holocaust. “YOU
KILLED OUR GOD, JESUS CHRIST, AND NOW, WE KILL YOU.”1 The late Rose Price saw this accusation
written on a banner as she and other innocent Jewish prisoners were marched into Türkheim [TERK-hime],
one of the Dachau [DAH-kow] Concentration Camps.2 Rose wrote years later in an Internet article: “The
Nazi guards told me over and over that because I killed Jesus Christ, He hated me and put me into the
camps to kill me.”3
The Holocaust has left a deep wound in the modern collective Jewish soul. We’re highly
protective of our people’s survival, and the name Jesus Christ can make us shudder. So when a Jewish
person becomes Christian, the Jewish community sees them as having joined ranks with the other side,
contributing to the plan of our enemies to wipe us out. One Jewish person on their side means one less on
ours. And we’re such a minority, especially after the Holocaust, that every single Jewish person on our side
matters to us.
1
Rose Price, A Rose from the Ashes: The Rose Price Story (San Francisco: Purple Pomegranate Productions, 2006),
p.79.
2
Ibid
3
Rose Price, “Rose Price: Holocaust Survivor Testimony,” Testimonials, JewishRoots.net.
http://jewishroots.net/library/testimonials/rose_price_holocaust_survivor_testimony.html. (Accessed January 26, 2017).

There are a ton of ways God worked in my heart and in my circumstances so I could know,
without a doubt, that Jesus is real. Let me share with you all the sweet, kind, loving ways He did that.
Get ready.
Buckle your seatbelt.
Here’s my story.
Judi & Jesus

My friend Judi and I taught at the same school, beginning the fall of 1986. She was the speech
teacher, and I taught second grade, then fifth. Through the years, I watched Judi hang onto Jesus as she
went through some tough, sometimes tragic, times. But regardless of what I saw her go through, Judi
always had a sense of peace about her that made no sense to me. And I wanted that peace. I didn’t know it
was the kind of lasting peace that comes only through a relationship with Jesus.
Judi never pushed Jesus on me, God bless her. Instead, she prayed. Judi prayed for eight years
that God would help me come to know Jesus. Right after I prayed to Him for the first time—in Judi’s home—
she showed me a card with a list of prayers she prayed for others and me. I’m still amazed when I recall the
tangible ways God responded to Judi’s specific prayers.
Judi prayed I would believe the Bible is God’s Word.

It was Labor Day weekend, 1987, and Judi and I had just started another school year. Over the
year I’d known her, I was struck by how much Judi’s religion impacted her life. That caused me to want to
learn more about my own. I found out about a seminar being given over that holiday weekend at an
orthodox Jewish school in Chicago. Its focus was proving the Torah (the first five books of the Bible) was
the infallible Word of God. I planned on attending because I wanted my own religion to have the kind of
impact on me that Judi’s had on her.
When Tuesday morning rolled around, Judi and I were lingering in the hallway by the school
entrance. We had just enough time for a quick chat before the morning bell.
“How was your class this weekend?” Judi asked.
I took a deep breath as I turned my head toward my friend and looked her straight in the eye. I
answered in a sober tone. “The Torah is really something to be reckoned with. Only a super-intelligence
could have written it. I’m absolutely amazed that God wrote the Torah.”
Judi grinned and her eyes welled up. Then the bell rang and kids blasted in. The rest of our
conversation waited till lunch.

“Oh my gosh! They talked about so many things, Judi. Even looking at the very first line of Torah,
they found patterns of sevens that are absolutely amazing. But what really got me were the Bible codes.”
“Bible codes? What are Bible codes?”
“They have to do with counting every, say, ninth letter in a passage, and the letters spell out things
related to the passage. It’s called Equidistance Letter Sequencing. They’ve even used computers to prove
these codes are for real.”
“That’s amazing.”
“I know. I’m going to start reading the Torah. I have a copy at home.”
My copy of the Torah was a big heavy red book, and I opened it to a random page shortly after the
seminar. I started reading. But even though I wanted to be interested, I couldn’t get involved with the text.
The style of English was difficult, the print too small, the pages thin like tissue paper, and each page had a
million tedious commentaries. It didn’t take long before I stashed the book back on the shelf.
Before I continue, I want to point out that the Bible code phenomenon is shrouded in controversy. I
don’t want to send the message that these codes must be authentic in order to trust the Bible as true.
Though they convinced me to trust the Bible as God’s word, I’ve since learned that the literal text of
Scripture proves its own authenticity.
Breakdown
Fast-forward about seven-and-a-half years to January 1994. Welcome to events that led to my
breakdown. While I was teaching fifth grade I began work on my million-page master’s degree thesis.
Teaching was already a ton of work, though I loved it, and writing a master’s thesis on top of it was a huge
undertaking. Also, my two-year marriage was heading toward divorce. By August we had sold our house, I
moved in with my parents, had completed my thesis, and was hired as a full-time creative drama teacher in
a different school district.
The stresses and heartbreak of that previous year had weakened my inner core. It didn’t help that
the transition into the new school district felt like I had moved from Mayberry to New York City. Not only
was I learning the ropes of a new job, I went from teaching twenty-some kids at a time to six hundred.
Discipline issues were intense. Though I handled them well—some of my students even had
breakthroughs—it was exhausting. On top of the new job, my divorce occurred during that school year.
Such an extreme change at that time in my life took its toll. By June I felt like my soul couldn’t breathe. I

was losing my footing.
“The devil is really Over the summer I went on a two-week yoga retreat in
Colorado to chill. During that retreat, I learned a meditation
good at fooling technique that required intense concentration on the love of the
universe. I was taught to pray to that ethereal, faceless love.
people, Laura.”
Judi prayed God would expose Satan to me.
She also prayed God would send someone to lead me to Christ.
After I returned home from my retreat, before the school year began a former colleague and I
started hanging out together. Pam had been a fellow teacher at the “Mayberry” school district. In the past,
we were never able to nail down a time to get together socially. But out of the blue, Pam started calling me.
While I was telling her about my yoga retreat one afternoon, she said something that almost made me
choke.
“Pam, how can you say that? How can praying to the love of the universe even possibly be of the
devil? The devil is dark and evil. But I pray to the universe, in all its light and love. How can light and love be
of the devil?”
“The devil is really good at fooling people, Laura. If he showed up in his true colors, then people
would run from him. Instead, he shows up as love and light. That way he tricks people into running towards
him and steering clear away from God.” Pam’s next statement came out of nowhere. “Did you know Jesus
was Jewish?”
“Look, I don’t want to be converted Pam, so don’t go there, okay?”
“I don’t want to convert you,” she hesitated.
“Good, because I’m Jewish. I have no interest in Jesus.”
“Laura, you need to be a completed Jew.”
Oh my gosh, how could she say that to me? I contained my outrage. As far as I was concerned I
was already a completed Jew, and I didn’t need or want Jesus. “Pam, just drop it, okay?”
“Okay Laura. I’m really sorry if I offended you.”

Soon after that encounter with Pam, it was time to go back to school. Though I was crumbling
inside, I was determined to grit my teeth and get through another year. I didn’t expect the new year to bring
on new stresses, but it did. For starters, after the first week our principal asked the entire staff to arrive at
school a half-hour earlier every day. The new seven o’clock start-time was a painful stretch for me. Also,
instead of being on staff at one school, I was now on staff at two. That meant I had to attend weekly faculty
meetings at two schools, along with being part of the community life at both. This required a ton of after-
school hours. On top of that I was given the new responsibility of creating and teaching curriculum for an
after-school club. I was headed toward my breaking point.
In the meantime, at the beginning of October, Pam invited me to a singles gathering at Willow
Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Illinois. Willow is one of those mega churches, and I had
already attended Judi’s wedding there. At the wedding, though it felt strange to be in a church, Willow didn’t
feel like a church. There were no crosses or anything else that were turn-offs to me. This made it easier
accepting Pam’s invitation to the singles event.
There were about fifty people there that night, and we sat at a friendly table. As we introduced
ourselves, I was surprised that two of the people said they were Jewish and believed in Jesus. (Now that I
think of it, what were the chances I’d meet anybody like that at the event, and sitting right at my table?)
“How can you believe in Jesus if you’re Jewish?” I asked Ilene, who was sitting next to me.
“Jesus is Jewish. It’s the most natural thing for a Jewish person to believe in Jesus. Then she
announced, “You have to be saved by His blood!”
Oh my gosh, I thought. Saved by His blood? This woman’s off her rocker.
Then Tom, the other Jewish person chimed in and said, “You have to read Isaiah fifty-three in the
Hebrew Scriptures.” It talks about Jesus the Messiah dying for our sins.”
“That sounds Christian. There’s no way that can be in the Jewish Bible,” I retorted. I went home
puzzled, but I had more important things to think about. I had to get through the school year.
As the days at work continued, I did my best to get through each one. But I was spiraling
downward. Eventually my inner core collapsed. I was no longer able to focus, and anxiety gripped me.
Finally, on Halloween, I asked to resign. I had some savings that would get me by for awhile.
A few weeks later I was lying on the couch in the middle of the day, smothered by depression. My
eyelids were heavy and my heart was sinking deeper and deeper into the cushions. I was still in my

pajamas. Then the phone rang, and I didn’t want to answer it. But I peeled myself off the couch and picked
up.
“Hello,” I murmured.
“Hi Laura. It’s Dorothy.” Oh, great, I thought, wishing I’d let the phone ring. Dorothy was
Pam’s mom. She’s going to try to fill my head with more Jesus stuff.
“Hi Dorothy. What’s up?”
She stammered in a soft voice. “Uh, I wanted to tell you, that uh, do you have a pencil and paper?”
“I’ll have to find one. Hold on a minute.” Irritated, I searched for a scrap of paper and something to
write with. “Okay, I’m back.”
“Uh, God told me to tell you to look up a verse in the Bible. Do you have a Bible?”
“Yeah, but only a Jewish one.”
“That’s okay,” she answered in a sweet but weak voice. I sensed her discomfort. Dorothy had me
write down a verse number from the Torah, and I scribbled it on a torn envelope I’d grabbed from the
kitchen. “Okay, I’ve got it. I’ll look it up later. Thanks for calling.”
That scrap of paper laid on the floor for about a week until I succumbed and looked up the verse:
“There shall not be found with you anyone . . . who uses divination . . . or a consulter with a familiar spirit”
(Deuteronomy 18:10-11 NHM). At the time I was involved in both those things. And, because of my belief in
the Torah from the course years ago at the orthodox school, I became concerned.
I had no idea God had been using Pam and Dorothy to prepare me for the days that lay ahead. It
was the week of Thanksgiving, and that week became the turning point in my story.

Sunday
“Hi Laura. My mom and I are going to hear a Jewish singer at our church. Wanna come?” I was on
the phone with Pam and hesitated with my answer. I didn’t like the idea of stepping foot inside a church
again. I saw it as a sacrilegious insult to my people and to God. But I agreed to go, because I was so
depressed. I thought getting out might bring some relief.
When Paul Wilbur began his concert, he made it very clear he believed in Jesus. So I saw him as a
traitor to my Jewish people and I felt Pam had tricked me into coming. But this singer expressed his belief in
Jesus so boldly, that in my brokenness I envied him and felt drawn to Jesus myself. But I didn’t let that
momentary feeling sway me. I saw Jesus as a non-Jewish, feel-good myth. I definitely didn’t think he was
real or that he could even possibly be God.
Monday
Little did she know I Happy Christmas music was burning salt on festering
wounds in my soul. I was browsing through the ceramic mug aisle
needed the kind of help
at Pier One Imports, and the whole store was buzzing with holiday
she couldn’t offer. cheer.
“Can I help you?” A sales lady interrupted my daze.
“Just looking,” I whispered with sunken eyes and a despondent expression. Little did she know I
needed the kind of help she couldn’t offer.
As the festive music continued, my heart was weeping inside. I felt dejected and detached from the
world of the living. I wanted to die as I took stock of my life: thirty-six years old, no husband, no children, no
career, no future, just sadness. My life had turned out to be a big disappointment.
Tuesday Night
“Hello, is this Laura?”
“Yes.”
“This is Dr. Rosenthal. Mary Yesvar asked me to call you. Apparently you’ve been working with her
and can use some extra help. Mary tells me you’ve been very depressed, Laura.”
Mary was my therapist who’d been counseling me a couple years. But I had become so severely
depressed she felt I needed more serious help. She asked a psychiatrist to contact me.
“Yes, Mary said you’d be calling.”

“Good. The first thing I need to ask is if you’re having suicidal thoughts. Because if you are, then
you really should be hospitalized.”
“No, I’m not having suicidal thoughts.” I was.
“Well, then there are two ways I can help you. I can either place you on medication or I can teach
you biofeedback.”
Medication was out of the question. I’m not saying I’m against people taking antidepressants. I just
knew that medication wasn’t the answer for me. Biofeedback was also out of the question. It required heavy
mind work, but by then my mind muscle had run of steam. I couldn’t even will myself to meditate anymore,
and biofeedback seemed like more of the same thing. So the call ended with Dr. Rosenthal saying there
was nothing she could do for me.
I hung up the phone as if in slow motion. It was a defining moment. That call made me realize I’d
exhausted all the options I hoped would have lead to peace. My fifteen-year search came to a crashing
halt. That phone caused me to believe the peace and contentment my soul longed for was too far out of
reach. I could no longer help myself, and it was clear no one else could help me either. This shook me to
the core. I fell over the edge of hope. I landed on bedrock. Splat.
Later Tuesday Night

Judy prayed God would draw me to Himself.
Desperate for relief from my despair, I wanted to vegetate in front of television to escape into
oblivion. But I’d just moved into a new apartment, and my television wasn’t connected yet. Getting lost in TV
wasn’t going to happen, so the radio would have to suffice. When I turned it on, how strange that all I could
get was static, as I turned the radio dial across the entire span of stations over and over again. But when I
turned the dial one last time, something finally came through, and a familiar voice filled my kitchen. It was
Paul Wilbur. He was the one whose concert I’d been to just a few days earlier. They were interviewing him
on WMBI, the Moody Christian station. It was the only station I could get that night, and this made me think
that maybe God was trying to get my attention.
After the interview, I went into my living room and wrote a sincere and desperate letter to God.
There I sat, on the right side of my black-and-white checkered couch, asking Him to show me the way. I told
Him how strong my will was to not believe in Jesus, that I just wanted to feel better. As I wrote, I heard my
mother and father in my mind’s ear ridiculing me for leaving my teaching job. I asked God if I could accept
Jesus without betraying them. I even wrote that I wished His Holy Spirit would come inside me, something
I’d heard a Christian friend talk about years earlier. As I continued to write, a new hope ignited in me that
maybe Jesus was real, that faith in him perhaps was based on truth, and that maybe he was the answer to
the peace and contentment I had always longed for.

Late Tuesday/Early Wednesday
Judy prayed I would seek to know God.
I stayed up most of that night reading about Jesus from Jewish history books. I was surprised to
learn the word Christ comes from Greek, meaning Anointed One, or Messiah. Though the word Christ was
so disturbing to me, the word Messiah made me feel at home; it’s part of my Jewish heritage. Through my
reading I also learned that the name Jesus comes from Greek as well, and in English it’s Joshua, and in
Hebrew it’s Yeshua [yeh-SHOO-uh]. I couldn’t imagine myself embracing Jesus Christ, but Messiah Yeshua
wasn’t as threatening.
That night I also read a short book by Thomas Merton called God and Holiness. A few years earlier
a friend was giving away her books, and that one happened to catch my eye. When she gave me the book,
I stuffed it away on my bookshelf until that night when I found it and read it from cover to cover.
Judi prayed God’s Holy Spirit would work in me and that I’d turn from sin.
Merton’s book talked about sin. I didn’t even consider myself a sinner; I was a good person. But as I
read, the Spirit of God spoke into the heart of my understanding, and I knew that living without considering
God was my sin. I could see I had lived my whole life counting on myself and that God wanted me to count
on Him from that point on.
Judi prayed I’d believe in Christ as Savior.

From reading Merton’s book, I understood that to be one with God I had to be one with Christ. God
met me beyond my raw emotional response to the word Christ to reveal that He truly exists. I experienced
a new and grounded peace, and hope replaced despair. I thought this might mean I wasn’t Jewish
anymore, and I was even willing to give up that treasure. That’s how personally and powerfully He
revealed that Jesus truly exists, and that He’s God.
Over time I was able to see I could remain Jewish while believing in Jesus. In fact, I was startled to
learn that Jesus came to earth for the Jew first and then for the Gentile. This still amazes me. The Apostle
Paul, who had been a religious Jewish leader devoted to the Law of Moses said:
“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is

the power of God that brings salvation to everyone
who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile”
(Romans 1:16 NIV).
Wednesday
After only a few hours of sleep, I woke up the next morning feeling like a new person. Joy had
replaced despair, and I had this strong desire to go to church. But I thought, Who goes to church on a

Wednesday? The feeling of wanting to go to church—me, this nice Jewish
gal—felt like I was in the twilight zone. Then the phone rang.
The feeling of wanting to go to
“Uh, hi Laura.” It was Pam. Her voice was soft and shaky. “Uh, well, church––me, this nice Jewish
my Mom and I are going to Willow Creek tonight. And uh, it’s their
Thanksgiving service. I just wanted you to know in case you might want to
gal––felt like I was in the
come with us. But I understand if you’re busy.” twilight zone.
“Sure! I’d love to come! What time?” I was so excited. Pam must
have wondered what was going on with me.
Willow Creek was buzzing that night. There was so much life in that place, and the service was
delightful. Oh, and who did I end up sitting next to in that packed house of three thousand? A Jewish
believer in Jesus. And through conversation I learned his family attended my synagogue. I experienced this
as an unquestionable sign from God and was amazed and overjoyed to experience evidence of Him in this
personal way.
Thanksgiving Day
Judi prayed I would confess Christ as Lord.
I listened to Paul Wilbur’s Shalom Jerusalem CD on the way to celebrate Thanksgiving with Judi
and her family. Pam had given it to me the night before. As I listened, the Spirit of God spoke deeply into
the heart of my understanding again. He revealed to me that Jesus is Adonai [ah-doh-NIGH]. Adonai means
Lord in Hebrew. You have to understand the enormity of this revelation. All my life I recited Hebrew prayers
that included the word Adonai. To see Jesus as Adonai, to see Him as Lord, isn’t something I could have
ever made up. God Himself revealed this to me, and not only that. He revealed that Jesus is the God of
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of all the earth. (When I prayed all those years for my dear grandma, I
had no idea I’d been praying to Jesus. Oy vay!)
When I received these truths, my heart and eyes welled up with uncontainable emotion. Tears of
awe streamed down my face. It was as if all the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle had finally come together, and
they made a beautiful, comprehensible, completed picture.

The Completed Picture
From the time of my Bat Mitzvah at age twelve, I feared God was angry with me. A Bat Mitzvah
ceremony ushers a Jewish girl into Jewish womanhood. To me this meant I was now supposed to follow all
the Jewish laws. But I had learned only a few of them in Hebrew school and we followed only a sliver of
them in our home. So how could I follow them all if I didn’t know what they were? This caused me to
secretly worry I was failing as a Jewish woman and therefore in trouble with God.
Bat Mitzvah
bot MITZ-vah; boys have a Bar Mitzvah
In college I chose to live in a religious house with other Jewish kids. I learned how to observe the
Jewish laws there, and I loved how this lifestyle felt so Jewish. But my bout with religion was short-lived.
When I moved out, I moved on. Though I enjoyed the religious practices, I wasn’t motivated to keep them
up on my own. They didn’t make me feel any closer to God. So I placed on a shelf my gnawing concern that
as a Jewish woman I wasn’t pleasing God. I figured I’d deal with it later, whenever later was. Ha! I knew I’d
never deal with it. To cope, I simply hoped that being a good person made up for my failure.
I also wondered why we prayed in synagogue for all the peoples of the earth, the Gentiles––‫גוימ‬
[goy-EEM] in Hebrew––to worship the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
‫[ גוי‬goy] means nation

‫[ גוימ‬goy-EEM] means nations
Now the mixed-up puzzle pieces fell into place. God didn’t require me to follow the laws of Torah.
He wanted me to believe in Jesus the Messiah. And, regarding Gentiles, multitudes of Gentiles do
worship the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of all the earth. And He—the one true God—is
Jesus! Oy Vay!
If you’re Jewish, then this may sound blasphemous to you, and I understand. But I still have to speak
the truth, and I’m not ashamed of the truth. Finding out that Jesus, or Yeshua in Hebrew, is Jewish, and that
He is the one true God, is THE BIGGEST SURPRISE OF MY LIFE.
Friday
“I’ll have some decaf,” I told the waitress as I sat down on the comfy red-vinyl coffee-shop booth.
“Judi, I have so much to tell you. So much has happened this week.” Before I could get in another word, a
man and woman came up to our booth and Judi’s eyes lit up.
“Mimi! Michael! I can’t believe it’s you! How long’s it been?”

As I listened to their conversation unfold, I learned that Michael and Mimi had lived in Chicago but moved to
Florida a couple years earlier. They’d flown in the day before because of a family emergency. They were flying home
the next day.
“Judi, I wish we could stay and talk, but we have to get going. Michael’s dad is waiting for us, but
it’s so nice seeing you.”
“What are you doing tonight? Judi asked. “Why don’t you come over so we can talk then.”
“That’d be really nice. What do you think, Michael?”
“Sure. After we see Dad we can stop by. Judi, is seven o’clock okay?”
“That sounds great. Ed and I are in the same house, so you know where to find us. It’ll be great
catching up.”
When Michael and Mimi left, I told Judi all the things that had happened that week—the Paul Wilbur
concert and the radio incident, my letter to God, the things I’d read about Jesus, the Thomas Merton book,
sitting next to the Jewish believer at Willow Creek whose family attends my synagogue. Judi just sat there
listening and nodding her head with a huge grin on her face. When I finished, she told me Michael and Mimi
were Jewish believers in Jesus.
“No way! That’s amazing! I wish I could come to your house tonight and talk with them. But my
orthodox friends invited me to Shabbat dinner. It wouldn’t be right to cancel.”
Shabbat
shah-BAHT––‫––שבת‬Hebrew for Sabbath
“They have kids, don’t they?”
“Yes.”
“Well, kids get sick. Why don’t you call your friend to make sure tonight still works for her.”
Sure enough, when I called, Sarah told me one of her kids had the sniffles. So I went to Judi and
Ed’s house that night instead, and talked with Michael and Mimi about Jesus.
Somewhere during our conversation, Michael asked if I wanted to receive Jesus as my savior. God
had already stripped away the obstacles keeping me from Him. I was ready to fall into my Savior’s arms.
First Michael prayed for me. The gentleness in his voice reached my frail heart, and Jesus filled my soul

with His rescuing love and peace. Then Michael asked me to pray. For the first time in my life I prayed to
Jesus; sincere words flowed out of my tired and grateful heart. I don’t remember what I prayed, except that
I thanked God for showing me Jesus is real.
Oh, by the way. The family emergency turned out to be a false alarm. All of us agree to this day
that the Lord brought us together at that time and place to show me that Jesus truly is the living God. And I
am forever grateful.
That night when I returned home, I wanted to see if God had anything personal to say to me
through the Scripture portions I read during my Bat Mitzvah. I was so sure I’d find something. So I dug up
the booklet my rabbi had given me twenty-four years earlier from which I learned my portions. And, sure
enough, I was amazed as I then reread in English my portion from the prophets, which I’d only read in
Hebrew before. It was Zechariah 2:10–4:6. The passage begins like this: “Sing and rejoice, O daughter of
Zion:” (KJV). My heart knew God was calling me as His precious Jewish daughter and that I was to be
joyful and glad He revealed Himself to me. I was. Then the passage continues. (You’ll see in a minute why
I bolded some of it):
“for, lo, I come, and I will dwell in the midst of thee, saith the LORD. And many nations shall
be joined to the LORD in that day, and shall be my people: and I will dwell in the midst of thee,
and thou shalt know that the LORD of hosts hath sent me unto thee.” (Zech 2:10–11 KJV,
bold added).
In these verses, there’s both one who’s coming to dwell in the midst of the people, and one who
sends him. Who’s the one coming? Who’s the one sending? Now reread only the bolded text. Can you tell
who’s who? It’s really not a trick question, but it might seem like a trick answer even though it isn’t.
Because if you examine the text, you’ll see that the LORD is the one who’s coming and the LORD is the
one who’s sending Him. I want to suggest this provides a hint of the Father who sends His Son to dwell in
the midst of the people. I love that God included Jesus in my Bat Mitzvah Scripture portion.
The portion ends with this mention of the Holy Spirit: “This is the word of the LORD unto
Zerubbabel, saying, Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the LORD of hosts”
(Zechariah 4:6 KJV). I think it’s really cool that my Bat Mitzvah Scripture portion included the three
persons of God: The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit. (For more about the Trinity, see blog post
“One God, Three Persons.”)

Saturday
I returned to Willow Creek the next day for their Saturday evening service. Barely a week earlier I
was uncomfortable stepping into Pam’s church to hear Paul Wilbur; I was afraid it would offend God by
demonstrating allegiance to Jesus. Now, there I was in a church worshipping Jesus. Only God Himself
could have made that happen.
Before the sermon that evening, they presented a drama. It showed a young woman sitting on her
living room couch and writing a letter to God. She asked God to show her the way, just like I’d done a few
nights earlier. She was in turmoil like I’d been, in the process of making a crucial, life-changing decision she
knew her family would reject. She could hear them in her mind’s ear, just like I’d heard my own parents. As
the scene continued, it occurred to me the woman was sitting in the same place on her couch that I’d been
sitting on mine. I started to think maybe God was revealing Himself in a personal way again. Then, at the
very end of the scene, the woman signed her journal entry aloud. She signed it Laura. I wanted to jump out
of my seat. My heart knew this wasn’t a coincidence. My heart knew God was reassuring me that He was
personally committed to me and personally involved in my life.
About a Month Later

It was January 6, 1996, when I first walked through the doors of the Olive Tree Congregation,
where I’ve been attending ever since. On that Shabbat morning the worship leader quoted a verse from my
Bat Mitzvah Scripture portion. I knew this was another loving sign from the Lord, confirming He is real,
personal, and truly with me. “Olive tree” also appears in the portion of Scripture I read for my Bat Mitzvah,
another personal gift from God.
As I look back, I have no doubt God allowed so much pain in my life so I would search and come
to know Him. I have no regrets. I doubt I would have ever come to Yeshua had I been happy-go-lucky;
I wouldn’t have had any reason to want Him. Especially since a Jewish person often pays a price for
their faith. I did.

Judi prayed that I would yield all to follow Christ.
Two months after I became a believer in Jesus I
told my parents about my faith. I explained to them all the
wonderful ways God had shown me how real He is.
My fear of turning my back on Surely they would believe me. They didn’t. My folks were
devastated. They tried talking me out of it. They
God was greater than my fear of
threatened to disown me. But my fear of turning my back
losing the people I loved most. on God was greater than my fear of losing the people I
loved most. And Jesus had implanted Himself so
lovingly in my heart that there was no turning back
to life without Him.
When Mom and Dad realized I wasn’t going to change my mind, Dad’s reaction became extreme. It was so
out of character for him. My dad was a special person and a loving and devoted father. But he was crushed. Crushed.
So was Mom. I’m going to share with you Dad’s reaction. I want you to see how heartbreaking it can become in a
family when a loved one turns to Jesus.
Dad and I were sitting on the couch in his study. We sat sideways to face each other. Mom was adjacent to
us on a big black Lazy Boy chair. “Mom, Dad, I love you so much.” I was holding back tears. “But I can’t turn my back
on God.” Every ounce of my being wanted them to understand.
Dad’s face became contorted and his complexion beet red. His eyes spewed out fury, and he gnarled at me.
“How could my own daughter call herself a Chrrrrrissssstiannnn?” The “C” word pushed through his teeth as if it were
on fire. “Where did we go wrong? Your mother and I raised you to be Jewish, and now you expect us to believe your
fairy tale?” Then silence, except for Mom’s sobs. I stared down at the floor.
Dad yelled at me again. “You’ve shamed me to my dead parents. How am I going to face them when I die? I
don’t want to have anything to do with you. Get outta here.” Mom continued to sob.
In shock, I got up from the couch and managed one step at a time until I was in the hallway. I walked toward
the stairs and was about to take the first step down. But then I heard the pounding of Dad’s feet rush toward me from
behind. I could feel the vibrations of his fury through the floorboards. Each quake shook me to the core, and I was
filled with a visceral terror. I turned around and Dad’s contorted face was so close to my own that I could feel his
breath. His eyes bulged out at me in madness as he threatened through clenched teeth, “if anything happens to your
mother it’ll be your “f………g fault.” Mom had already survived breast cancer, and I knew he was telling me that if
she relapsed it would be because of the torment I’d caused her because of my belief in Jesus.
My insides were shaking. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I made my way down the stairs and approached
the front door. “I’ll be praying for you,” I murmured under my breath. Then I slipped outside and got into my car. I

expected to never see my parents again.
With trembling hands, I managed to place the key in the ignition. Then I gripped the steering wheel while
my heart pounded in my throat. I set the car in reverse and entered the street. As I drove home, I felt like I was
in a different dimension. The car wheels seemed to propel forward without contacting the pavement. I was awake
in a nightmare.
Numbness held onto my tears until I was safe in my apartment. Then stifling sobs exploded from my broken
heart. I had lost my family.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Three months later Dad left a message on my answering machine. “Hi Laura.” His voice was upbeat as if
nothing had happened between us. “I just wanted to let you know the Passover Seder is going to be at
Vera’s this year.” Then his tone became soulful and somber. “Laura, I can’t live without you. I love you. I
want you to come to the Seder.”
I spent Passover with my family that year and all the years that followed. It took years before I felt safe to be
alone in the same room with Dad. Eventually my fear of him dissipated, but our relationship was never the same.
Though our deep love for each other never faded, it was hard to know what to say to each other. Every time I saw
him, I strained to filter my words before I spoke. I had to be diligent in not letting anything slip out about Jesus. That
was hard, because Jesus had become the center of my life.
Mom died of cancer only five years after that heart-wrenching encounter. I don’t know if she and Dad blamed
me for her illness. Dad passed away sixteen years after Mom.

The First Three Years: Healing and Growth
I became a believer in Yeshua only shortly after I left my teaching job. God gave me what I
needed to heal from my brokenness—time to grow in Him and many supportive friends in Yeshua.
The first year I worked part-time for my pastor in the Olive Tree office. Pastor Dan announced the
first morning I attended an Olive Tree service that his office assistant had quit unexpectedly, and he
needed a part-time volunteer to replace her right away. So I volunteered. The first task Pastor Dan gave
me was easy, which was exactly my pace at that point. He asked me to organize his subject files. While I
did that, I became acquainted with terms and information I’d never heard of before, like eschatology,
Pentecostal, and dispensationalism. God was teaching and growing me. Working for Pastor Dan was a
blessing. He became a true friend and dear brother in Messiah. After several months, the congregation
was able to place me on their payroll.
By mid-April a year later, I contacted the “Mayberry” school district. I asked them to place me on
their substitute teacher list so I could work those days I wasn’t at Olive Tree. The very next day a fifth-
grade teacher unexpectedly had her baby a month early; they urgently needed a sub to finish out the
school year. How’s that for God’s timing! Pastor Dan agreed this was an important step for me, so he
allowed me to leave my post. I found myself teaching fifth grade again, in my former classroom. I even
found a few personal items right where I’d left them in my desk drawer.
By the end of summer, my sister and brother-in-law became parents. They hired me to care for my
newborn niece a few days a week, while they looked for a permanent nanny. What a delight that was.
Then, in the fall, a mom from Olive Tree hired me part-time to help home school her daughter. The days I
wasn’t taking care of my niece I worked there. When the school year ended, I needed a part-time job to
replace the homeschooling. Dad’s receptionist quit unexpectedly and he needed me to fill in while they
searched for a replacement. So there I was, working alongside my father. Though I was still afraid to be
alone with him, I felt safe in the office with the other staff there. It meant the world to me to work so closely
with my dad. I think it was healing to both of us. He showed me such love and kindness there.
Judi prayed that I would take root and grow in Christ.

I still marvel at how God gave me the time I needed those first three years to grow in my
relationship with Him and in my knowledge of the Bible. He surrounded me with strong believers and
immersed me in sound Biblical teaching. I listened to WMBI, the Christian radio station all the time. I can’t
measure how much I learned from WMBI. I also attended Willow Creek services twice a week and joined a
group for Jewish believers that had just started there. I attended Olive Tree once a week. I had two special
sisters in Messiah who each spent regular time with me reading through Scripture and teaching me. And I
attended another superb weekly Bible study.
Throughout those three years I vacillated between strong, assuring faith and excruciating worry. I

needed a full-time permanent job I could count on. It wasn’t easy to find. But I did see God’s hand on all my
circumstances and took great comfort in that. I clung to Proverbs 3:5–6, which says: “Trust in the LORD
with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he
will make your paths straight” (NHM).
I managed to earn just enough income to support myself, and

I knew God would place me in the right work situation in His perfect
timing. I was looking for my dream job writing school curriculum. I did see God’s hand on all
my circumstances and took

It was a Saturday night, and I realized it was my friend Lisa’s
birthday, so I gave her a call. But instead of reaching Lisa I reached great comfort in that.
the recorded message of some sort of educational development
house. I dialed correctly, but apparently Lisa had changed her number
and forgot to tell me. So I hung up and tried to figure out how to
contact her. Then I thought, Hmmm, maybe God had me call that wrong number because maybe He has a
job opportunity for me there. I redialed to leave a recorded message, but a woman answered the phone.
What were the chances there’d be someone in the office on a Saturday night?
Anyway, the woman asked if I was responding to her ad seeking someone to write school
curriculum—I kid you not. She added that I called a fax number but got through because someone had
turned off the fax machine by mistake. It was so clear that God’s hand was on this, and I was in awe and
encouraged to see His involvement in yet another circumstance in my life. It was obvious to me that this job
was “in the bag.”
The next day I sent a portfolio of teaching materials I’d developed over the years to apply for the job.
Then I waited. Then I waited some more. I never heard from the woman. Later I learned that the grant
money her company was counting on for that project hadn’t come through. I didn’t get the job after all. I
didn’t doubt that God’s hand was on this—there were too many “coincidences” only He could have
orchestrated. I just wondered what it all meant.
When it became clear I wasn’t going to get this dream job, I asked God what He wanted to teach
me through the disappointment. He revealed the answer to my heart. God was teaching me to not lean on
my own understanding. He would always be involved in every circumstance in my life, even when things
didn’t appear to make sense. In this circumstance God made His involvement obvious. But in future
circumstances, when His involvement might not be evident, I was to trust that He was with me and involved.
The Next Years: More Blessings

The Lord gave me a full-time, permanent position in September of 1998 at a major publishing
company. I was an editor for elementary school textbooks, a position my years of teaching prepared me for.

How did I get that job? I found the newspaper want ads someone had left in the garbage area in my
apartment building. I loved working at that company. My colleagues were a wonderful group of people, I
was thrilled with a ten-minute commute from home, and I received excellent training. This turned out to be
my dream job.
By the way, remember I said I helped nanny my newborn niece? My sister found a permanent
nanny right when I was hired as an editor. The new nanny and I both started our new jobs on the very same
day. I love God’s timing.
I had an interesting experience soon after I began working at the publishing company. I was talking
to our company librarian, standing in front of the card catalogue drawers. It was before libraries had gone
digital. (I know, I’m dating myself.) Anyway, the librarian and I were facing each other, and the drawers were
to my right. As we spoke, I turned my head and my eyes landed on a drawer labeled “Magid.”
When I finished speaking with the librarian, I opened the file drawer to see what book was listed
under that name, but there wasn’t one. As I returned to my office, I asked God from my heart what He was
trying to communicate to me through this. In my heart I sensed Him answering that He had had my name
on that place—the publishing company—all along. There had been no reason for me to painstakingly worry
during the previous three years of uncertainty. Even to this day, when I wonder or worry about what the
future might hold, I use that event to remind myself that God holds every detail of my life in His hands.
God Cares About Regular People

God really is that personal. God really is in the business of revealing Himself to schmoes, like me…
and like you. Schmo, pronounced “shmoe,” by the way, is Yiddish for a regular, run-of-the-mill, imperfect
person. I hope you don’t mind me calling you a schmo, but compared to God, that’s simply what we
all are. So if you and I are schmoes, why would God want to have anything to do with us? He’s got a
universe to run, right? Planets, stars, oceans to manage, right?
I’m delighted to share with you that God is in the business of revealing Himself to ordinary, messed-
up people like me and like you. It’s simply because of who He is. Yep. God loves revealing Himself to
schmoes like us. When He makes His presence known, and we respond to Him with awe and delight, He’s
delighted. I don’t think God needs our love, but I have no doubt that He loves when we respond back to Him
with love. I even think He honors when we respond to Him in any way, as long as we respond to Him with
what’s truly and sincerely on our hearts.
It’s been many years since I’ve known my Messiah, and they’ve been years filled with God’s love,
grace, and mercy. But I don’t want to give the false impression that it’s always been a pretty picture
between God and me. I have to confess, there’ve been times I’ve been indignant towards God. I even

remember a time I got so mad at Him for not giving me something I wanted that I shook my fists in the air at
Him. I was in pain, and I blamed Him for it. The reason I’m sharing this is to get the point across that I was
real with God. And He wants you to be real with Him too.
When I was indignant towards God He could have squashed me like a flea. But instead, He
responded the same way a loving parent responds to a child having a tantrum—He responded with love.
I’m not saying it’s okay to disrespect or dishonor God, just as a child
shouldn’t treat a parent that way. But I am saying that God
“God responds with love when we responds with love when we sincerely respond to Him, even when
sincerely respond to Him, even we’re having a hissy fit. And when we’re hurting, when we mistrust
Him, or even when we feel angry towards Him, God wants us to
when we’re having a hissy fit.
sincerely tell Him. He knows everything in our hearts anyway. When
we tell Him, we are stepping into relationship with Him. And that’s
what He wants.
There are so many places in the Bible that speak of God’s desire to be in relationship with people,
the crown of His creation, whom He made in His own image. Here’s one of my favorite Scripture passages.
Yeshua is talking to His followers:
"Come to me, all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my
yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart; and you will find
rest for your souls” (Matt 11:28–30 NHM).
To those of us who live in relationship with Him, Yeshua wants to give His peace and comfort.
That doesn’t mean He promises everything in our lives will be trouble-free. But when the
storms come, and they will, Yeshua promises His soul-rest is available. He gives counsel
when we sincerely ask Him for it, and, in this scary world, we have have rock-solid assurance
that we’re going to spend eternity with Him, whatever may come in this life.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition with
thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which
surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your thoughts in Messiah
Yeshua” (Philippians 4:6-7 NHM).
Let me ask you. Do you know what you’re going to do when your storm hits? Some of us will be hit
with an unthinkable diagnosis or a severe financial loss. Some of us will experience something terrible at
work or we’ll find ourselves in a family crisis. Even those of us who live our entire lives happy and content
without ever facing that kind of perfect storm will get to the place where we can’t help ourselves and where
no one else can help us either. That’s because we’re all destined to reach the twilight moment between life
and death when we come to the end of ourselves and are completely at the mercy of what’s on the other

side of this life. I’m not trying to use scare tactics or be over dramatic. I’m simply talking about something
that’s true and crucially important to all of us. When that storm hits and you don’t know Yeshua, I hope you
will to talk to God and ask Him to reveal Jesus to you.
The Promise of Eternal Life

I became a follower of Jesus because He convinced me He truly is God, and I desperately needed
Him. But I didn’t know that accepting Jesus carried with it eternal significance. Up till then I had no idea I
was a sinner and that the price for my sin was death, which is separation from God.
For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of

God is everlasting life in Messiah Yeshua our Lord.
(Romans 6:23 NHM)
I had no idea that Jesus—Yeshua in Hebrew—died in my place, so I could be brought into a

personal relationship with God forever. And I especially had no idea that this plan of God’s salvation is
rooted in my own Old Testament Scriptures. That was another big surprise. (If you’d like to read more how
God’s plan of salvation is rooted in the Hebrew Scriptures, then please see the articles on Passover, The
Day of Atonement, and First Fruits in the Jewish Holidays section of this website.)
Thank you for allowing me to share my story.
May God lavish His blessings on you.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
Appendix
“Jesus is Okay for Her, but He’s Definitely Not for Me”
I don’t expect that all of a sudden, after reading my story, you’re going to believe in Jesus.
Authentic belief in Jesus begins between you and God, not between you and someone like me who’s
shared her story. But my hope is that God will use my story to stir your heart so you’ll sincerely seek Him.
To do that, just talk to God. Tell Him your deepest, most private thoughts and concerns. Ask Him to reveal
Jesus to you. If you’re truly sincere, then God, in His perfect timing for you, will make it clear who He is. Just
be patient and pay attention to how He answers.
“You will seek me and find me when you

seek me with all your heart.”

(Jeremiah 29:13 NIV)
If you haven’t already, then let me encourage you to read about the three Old Testament feasts that
point directly to salvation through Yeshua. This will help you understand why Yeshua’s death and
resurrection were necessary. Just go to the Jewish Holiday section of this website and read up on
Passover, The Day of Atonement, and First Fruits.
If You’re Ready to Accept God’s Free Gift of Salvation

(The name Yeshua means salvation.)
When you’re ready to move forward in a personal relationship with God, which includes being
saved from eternal separation from Him, the Bible says you must admit that Jesus is Lord and that you
must believe God raised Him from the dead:
“If you will confess with your mouth that Yeshua is Lord, and
believe in your heart
that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”
(Romans 10:9 NHM)
If you believe this in your heart but haven’t said so, I invite you to do that now. You can pray the
following prayer, or just follow your own heart’s prayer. If you’re not ready to do this, then I encourage you
to continue reading anyway.
Oh, Yeshua. Thank you for dying in my place for my sins. I understand that the price for my sins is
death, which is separation from You. I don’t want to be separated from You. I don’t want to pay the price for
my own sins. Thank You that I don’t have to suffer the Father’s fair and justified punishment for them.

Oh, Father, I can’t imagine how enormously Yeshua suffered for me, as He died in my
place. And I can’t imagine how it grieved You to allow this to happen. You must really love me, and
so must He.
I want to be Your child. I want to be with You for all eternity. I believe with all my heart that
Jesus died in my place for my sins and that Your Holy Spirit raised Him from the dead three days
later to offer eternal life to all who believe in Him. I believe in Him. Thank You for eternal life in
Messiah.
If You Just Prayed to Receive Jesus’s Gift of Salvation

You are now what the Bible calls a Christian. If you’re Jewish you might be more comfortable
thinking of yourself as a Messianic Jew. You are now free to enjoy your new personal relationship with God
through Yeshua the Messiah. And now God’s Holy Spirit lives in you. He will guide you. He will help you
understand His Word, the Bible. He will always be there, in you and for you. Here’s what the Bible says
about The Holy Spirit:
“Now he who establishes us with you in Messiah, and anointed us, is God;
who also sealed us, and gave us the down payment of the Spirit in our hearts.”
(2 Corinthians 1:21–22 NHM)
You have much to look forward to in your personal relationship with God through Jesus the
Messiah. This is only the beginning. To grow in your new relationship it’s important that you start reading
His Word, the Bible. There are many Bible translations, and I suggest The New Living Translation (NLT). It’s
a literal translation, yet the language is casual, making it quite readable. The New International Version
(NIV) is good too, if you prefer language that’s modern with some formality. If you start with an NIV, I
suggest the Quest Study Bible. It’s the Bible I started with, and its study notes are superb. A good place to
start reading is in the book of John. If you’re Jewish, then you might enjoy beginning in Matthew. It was
written specifically for a Jewish audience.
Each time you read the Bible, sincerely ask God to help you understand. And when you come to
something in His Word you don’t understand, ask Him again to help you. God’s Holy Spirit does open up
our understanding to His Word.
If you begin in the book of John, then let me clarify something. There are many places where “the
Jews” are accused of giving Jesus a hard time. You need to understand that this term “the Jews” isn’t used
as an anti-Semitic accusation against the Jewish people. In fact, the very first people to follow Jesus were
mostly Jewish, and there were hundreds, if not thousands of these early believers.

The term “the Jews” specifically refers to the Jewish leadership at the time of Jesus. Most of the
Jewish leaders refused to acknowledge Jesus’s miracles and even accused Him of being of the devil.
Tragically, they were blinded by their own commitment to Jewish traditions and their love for their own high
position in society, unwilling to give these up. Instead of seeking God with all their hearts and being willing
to accept God on His own terms, they clung to that which was comfortable, familiar, and temporary in light
of eternity.
Don’t let the size of the Bible overwhelm you. Think of it as spiritual food for the rest of your life.
You can’t possibly take it all in at once; just as every bite of food nourishes your body, each “bite” you
consume from God’s Word will nourish your soul. I’ve personally found this to be amazing.
It’s crucial to become affiliated with a strong, Bible-believing congregation, or you may prefer the word
church. The word church comes from the Greek word ἐκκλησία [eh-KLEE-jshuh], which translates the Hebrew word
‫[ כהל‬kah-HAYL]. This word means congregation. Ask God to help you find one that’s right for you. More info on the
etymology of the word church: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/where-did-word-church- come-from-robert-arney
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Resources
Radio
Moody Radio
Online: http://www.moodyradiochicago.fm/rdo_main.aspx?id=44604
In Chicagoland: 90.1 FM, WMBI
AM1160
Online: http://saleminteractivemedia.com/listenlive/player/wyllam
In Chicagoland: 1160 AM, WYLL
Websites
I Met Messiah: http://www.IMetMessiah.com. Videos of Jewish professionals who share
their stories of how they became believers in Yeshua.
Messianic Good News: http://www.messianicgoodnews.org/rabbis-who-converted/

This URL provides a list of rabbis who became believers in Yeshua. Click on any
name or names. Click on the “Testimonies and Biography” link too. It includes
Jewish and Muslim testimonies.
Jews for Jesus: www.jewsforjesus.org

Chosen People Ministries: www.chosenpeople.com

Both websites are visually pleasing, user-friendly, and provide superb information.
Olive Tree Congregation: Olive-Tree.org

Sermons: http://olive-tree.org/sermons
Pastor Dan Strull’s online sermons have drawn many new attendees to Olive
Tree. His sermons are superb.
Sermons about connections between the Jewish holidays and Yeshua: Go directly
to http://www.olive-ree.org/content.cfm?id=329.
Click on the holiday square you want, then scroll all the way down.
Dr. Tim Sigler’s Sermons: http://olive-tree.org/sermons.

Dr. Sigler, a former Olive Tree elder, served as Professor of Hebrew and Biblical
Studies at Moody Bible Institute for close to two decades. He is soon to serve as
Provost, Dean, and CEO of Shepherds Theological Seminary in North Carolina.
Pastor Dan Strull’s Blog: http://danstrull.net
Lee Strobel’s story of how he came to know Jesus: http://poptop.hypermart.net/testls.html

Lee was a hard-core Chicago Tribune courtroom reporter and self-proclaimed
atheist. When his wife became a Christian, he went to work using his investigative
reporting skills to prove her wrong. But his plan backfired when his investigations
lead him to become a believer in Jesus himself. Lee’s is an amazing story well
worth reading.
Books
Titles that defend the infallibility of the Bible
*some explain the Bible code phenomenon
*The Signature of God, by Grant R. Jeffrey
Scientific Facts in the Bible: 100 Reasons to Believe the Bible is Supernatural in Origin, by
Ray Comfort
*His Name Is Jesus, by Yacov Rambsel
The Case for Christ: A Journalist’s Personal Investigation of the Evidence for Jesus, by
Lee Strobel. (Strobel’s entire Case for …. series is superb.)

Faith Stories
The Search, by Lorna Simcox:
A great read about how its Jewish author came to know Jesus as her personal savior.
Betrayed, by Stan Telchin

This book tells how its author set out to prove that his daughter’s faith in Jesus was wrong.
In the process, he developed his own personal belief in Messiah. A captivating read.
I Dared to Call Him Father: The Miraculous Story of a Muslim Woman’s Encounter With
God, by Bilquis Sheikh: This autobiography about its Pakistani author is riveting.
The Strength of Mercy: Making a Difference in the World One Child at a Time, by Jan
Beazely: This autobiography tells of God’s obvious, personal hand on both the author’s life
and those dear to her. The themes of adoption and Romania run through the book.
Tramp for the Lord, by Corrie Ten Boom: A Gentile Holocaust survivor tells of
God’s amazing hand on her life as she tells others about Jesus after the war.
Dinner with a Perfect Stranger, by David Gregory: Easy and delightful fiction that
addresses perplexing questions about God and religion.
DVD
The Search for the Real Mt. Sinai

Not convinced the Exodus really happened? You have to view this.

My Faith Story

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The Biggest Surprise of My Life:

How a Nice Jewish Gal Came to Know Jesus

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Judi & Jesus

Judi prayed I would believe the Bible is God’s Word.

“How was your class this weekend?” Judi asked.

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“Bible codes? What are Bible codes?”

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“Look, I don’t want to be converted Pam, so don’t go there, okay?”

“I don’t want to convert you,” she hesitated.

“Good, because I’m Jewish. I have no interest in Jesus.”

“Laura, you need to be a completed Jew.”

“Okay Laura. I’m really sorry if I offended you.”

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“Hi Dorothy. What’s up?”

“Yeah, but only a Jewish one.”

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“Can I help you?” A sales lady interrupted my daze.

“Yes, Mary said you’d be calling.”

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“No, I’m not having suicidal thoughts.” I was.

Later Tuesday Night

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Judi prayed I’d believe in Christ as Savior.

“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is

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‫[ גוי‬goy] means nation

“Mimi! Michael! I can’t believe it’s you! How long’s it been?”

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“That’d be really nice. What do you think, Michael?”

“They have kids, don’t they?”

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About a Month Later

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Judi prayed that I would take root and grow in Christ.

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I managed to earn just enough income to support myself, and

my circumstances and took

The Next Years: More Blessings

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God Cares About Regular People

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The Promise of Eternal Life

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of

I had no idea that Jesus—Yeshua in Hebrew—died in my place, so I could be brought into a

Thank you for allowing me to share my story.

May God lavish His blessings on you.

“You will seek me and find me when you

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If You’re Ready to Accept God’s Free Gift of Salvation

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If You Just Prayed to Receive Jesus’s Gift of Salvation

(2 Corinthians 1:21–22 NHM)

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