d at that. Nothing could have been more meaningless to me at that time, but Fran’s influence continued. One day she said I am going to have my church pray for you Michael because you are so troubled and you need the Lord. I cursed a bit and told her I could care less whether her church prayed or not. I told her I didn’t believe in God, the church or prayer. I kept partying as she and her church began praying. The result of those prayers went far beyondUnless God has changed the way he does things it would seem that he has kept the lines open to men and women as usual. Should there be any doubt let me tell you a true story of a sequence of events in my own life. No one had more trouble believing these events than me; in fact I wouldn’t tell even my closest friends for over a year. Now I think so very differently.

Not only do I tell this story but I realize it is part of the reason the events took place, I am supposed to tell of it. Telling it is my very calling in life.

As a young man I spent many years wandering around the country. I can truthfully say there is but one state that I have not been in and that is Alaska. In the early sixties I landed in New Orleans where I went to work and hung out with a crowd of pretty wild young people. In the'City That Care Forgot,' it was indeed easy to forget just about anything other than partying and having a good time. I imbibed in alcohol, psychedelic drugs, marijuana and a lot of foolish behavior. As the playing deepened to the stage where it seemed more like work I was growing increasingly restless and exasperated. At the height of my partying I was experiencing a depth of despair. The best parties have to end.

I met a girl named Fran who lived near me in the wild and famous French Quarter of New Orleans. I only checked in with Fran when I was at my lowest or coming off a major drunk or high. I was drawn to her quiet sense of stability. She was the only moral girl I knew in the quarter and while I would have preferred she wasn’t moral I knew it kept her head clearer than most all the other girls I knew at the time. On one occasion I asked her why she was so different, so calm and so kind to me. Her reply was'I’m a Christian and it is Jesus Christ that makes me different.' I scoffed at that. Nothing could have been more meaningless to me at that time, but Fran’s influence continued. One day she said I am going to have my church pray for you Michael because you are so troubled and you need the Lord. I cursed a bit and told her I could care less whether her church prayed or not. I told her I didn’t believe in God, the church or prayer. I kept partying as she and her church began praying. The result of those prayers went far beyond

ok place, I am supposed to tell of it. Telling it is my very calling in life.

As a young man I spent many years wandering around the country. I can truthfully say there is but one state that I have not been in and that is Alaska. In the early sixties I landed in New Orleans where I went to work and hung out with a crowd of pretty wild young people. In the'City That Care Forgot,' it was indeed easy to forget just about anything other than partying and having a good time. I imbibed in alcohol, psychedelic drugs, marijuana and a lot of foolish behavior. As the playing deepened to the stage where it seemed more like work I was growing increasingly restless and exasperated. At the height of my partying I was experiencing a depth of despair. The best parties have to end.

I met a girl named Fran who lived near me in the wild and famous French Quarter of New Orleans. I only checked in with Fran when I was at my lowest or coming off a major drunk or high. I was drawn to her quiet sense of stability. She was the only moral girl I knew in the quarter and while I would have preferred she wasn’t moral I knew it kept her head clearer than most all the other girls I knew at the time. On one occasion I asked her why she was so different, so calm and so kind to me. Her reply was'I’m a Christian and it is Jesus Christ that makes me different.' I scoffed at that. Nothing could have been more meaningless to me at that time, but Fran’s influence continued. One day she said I am going to have my church pray for you Michael because you are so troubled and you need the Lord. I cursed a bit and told her I could care less whether her church prayed or not. I told her I didn’t believe in God, the church or prayer. I kept partying as she and her church began praying. The result of those prayers went far beyond

and having a good time. I imbibed in alcohol, psychedelic drugs, marijuana and a lot of foolish behavior. As the playing deepened to the stage where it seemed more like work I was growing increasingly restless and exasperated. At the height of my partying I was experiencing a depth of despair. The best parties have to end.

I met a girl named Fran who lived near me in the wild and famous French Quarter of New Orleans. I only checked in with Fran when I was at my lowest or coming off a major drunk or high. I was drawn to her quiet sense of stability. She was the only moral girl I knew in the quarter and while I would have preferred she wasn’t moral I knew it kept her head clearer than most all the other girls I knew at the time. On one occasion I asked her why she was so different, so calm and so kind to me. Her reply was'I’m a Christian and it is Jesus Christ that makes me different.' I scoffed at that. Nothing could have been more meaningless to me at that time, but Fran’s influence continued. One day she said I am going to have my church pray for you Michael because you are so troubled and you need the Lord. I cursed a bit and told her I could care less whether her church prayed or not. I told her I didn’t believe in God, the church or prayer. I kept partying as she and her church began praying. The result of those prayers went far beyond

when I was at my lowest or coming off a major drunk or high. I was drawn to her quiet sense of stability. She was the only moral girl I knew in the quarter and while I would have preferred she wasn’t moral I knew it kept her head clearer than most all the other girls I knew at the time. On one occasion I asked her why she was so different, so calm and so kind to me. Her reply was'I’m a Christian and it is Jesus Christ that makes me different.' I scoffed at that. Nothing could have been more meaningless to me at that time, but Fran’s influence continued. One day she said I am going to have my church pray for you Michael because you are so troubled and you need the Lord. I cursed a bit and told her I could care less whether her church prayed or not. I told her I didn’t believe in God, the church or prayer. I kept partying as she and her church began praying. The result of those prayers went far beyondd at that. Nothing could have been more meaningless to me at that time, but Fran’s influence continued. One day she said I am going to have my church pray for you Michael because you are so troubled and you need the Lord. I cursed a bit and told her I could care less whether her church prayed or not. I told her I didn’t believe in God, the church or prayer. I kept partying as she and her church began praying. The result of those prayers went far beyond my wildest imagination.

Shortly after Fran and church began praying I found my life began getting hard for me. I was still partying, boozing and drugging but it was less exiciting. It seemed that now something was pricking my conscience and I started asking myself what the point of all this nonsense was. I felt heavy and dissatisfied with myself. I wouldn’t know for a long time that this is what the Bible calls, coming under the conviction of Gods Holy Spirit. I hated the fact that as I partied I couldn’t keep from questioning. I hated it because when I engaged my sense of right and wrong something kept telling me I was living wrong. I thought it would pass but it was relentless. In a fledgling attempt to deal with it all, I moved out of the quarter to the uptown section of the city and started to slow down going out and fun seeking. One day while alone in my new garden district apartment I began to deeply ponder my life, my direction or more like the lack of it. It was during this deep moment of examination and reflection that I experienced something that was so powerful that I was afraid to share it with anyone for almost one full year. Since that time I have shared it with thousands of people in many places and it is part of a book I wrote about these events and other subjects.

On that day I wandered from room to room asking myself some very pointed questions. I pondered my path, why was I living the way I was, and where would I end up. The more I asked these kinds of questions the more I found myself hungering for some real answers. At some point I sat on the edge of my bed and asked three very serious questions. When I got to the third question I was thrust into an experience that I almost could not believe myself. I don’t argue with anyone about its veracity I just tell it. T