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Ava Haveri

In the space of a few short months, tears changed our sweet life to salty. Arson destroyed the saw mill and dad almost lost his leg in an accident. It took years to heal. Financial reverses followed and we were now officially “poor.” We lived in a one-room cabin. Mom and us kids picked all kinds of produce to help support us and to eat. It is hard to go from being wealthy to poor. I resented it.

When I was 13 years old I started working as a chambermaid to help support the family. I worked for 55 cents an hour and would take my paycheck home to Momma. I thought I was pretty big. Then I got rebellious. The next thing I knew I was pregnant. I was only 14. That was a long time ago and caused a scandal in the church. They did not treat us right and life became bitter. Mother always said, “You can’t blame the church and God. It is the people who are to blame.” But I did blame the church. I did blame God. I quit going to church for more than 25 years.

During that time I married. But my husband was unfaithful and vindictive. He brought unspeakable suffering into my life. After that, I hated men. They were just a bunch of trash. It was OK to use and abuse them, because that is how they treated you. So I used them for my own purposes. Eventually I married Jim. He is a very decent man. My daughters consider him their father. But that didn’t last either.

I lived a pretty rough life. It was hard on my kids. I tended bar for 25 years or more. I got so sick of drunks that I hated them before they came through the door. So I switched to cooking. But my life remained chaotic. It was always a struggle. I only had a seventh-grade education, though I have an advanced degree from the School of Hard Knocks. All through these years my dear mother was always in the background telling me what I should do: “You should quit drinking and smoking.” “You should go to church.” “You should change your ways....”  But the more she told me, the more I rebelled. I knew it was true, but the truth hurts.

Jerry and I got married. Other than his alcoholism, we had a reasonably good marriage. He was kind and loving. When he was drunk, he was still a nice drunk—never abusive. I used to drink with him. I finally realized that if there was something worse than a drunk, it was two drunks. So I just decided to quit and I was done. It took me many years to realize that not everyone can quit that easily. Jerry would have given anything to quit drinking, but he couldn’t.

In the ‘80's I started attending church again. I knew it was the right thing to do, but I still had not met Jesus and fallen in love with Him. A couple years later Jerry was home more and I just accidentally slid out of church. It just happened.

I developed a tickle on my chin. It persisted. I finally saw a doctor and a brain tumor was diagnosed. The neurosurgeon insisted that I had to have surgery. I was scared to death, so I agreed. The day before the surgery, a young doctor came in and told me he was taking me down to have a test before the surgery. He informed me that there was a 60-70% chance that I would have a stroke from the test. I absolutely refused to have the test until I spoke to my surgeon. Eventually he came and talked to me and he told me that my chances of having a good outcome from the surgery were not good. I told him I was functional now and if that was the case, forget the surgery. I packed my bags and went home.

That was 20 years ago. But the thought of having a brain tumor rode on me. I told myself, “You need to get right with God. That could snuff you out any time!” I thought of the 23rd Psalm: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me. I wondered if God really was with me, after all this time and all that I had done.

After Jerry died,  I was lonely. I had even more time to contemplate my health and my relationship with God. I got to wondering what I was going to do with my life. My youngest daughter, Kim, is very religious. For years she kept trying to get me back to church. I said, “Shut up! You sound just like your grandma!” I sure didn’t need her preaching at me, too!

My doctor insists that I have regular MRI’s to follow the slow growth of the tumor. Several years ago he found that I had a brain aneurysm. That could certainly snuff me out anytime! It scared the socks off me.

One night I told myself,  "I am going to go to church tomorrow and check out the preacher." I knew that Pastor Kurt Johnson, from the ‘80's was long gone. So I went to church and ran into Sherri Wolverton. She used to waitress at the same place where I tended bar. When I saw her I said, “What are YOU  doing here?” Sherri said, “This is my church now, but what are YOU doing here?” We talked a few minutes and I learned that Sherri was leading a stop smoking class. She invited me to attend. I quit smoking the second night. I have been going to church ever since.

Well, I had to do something about the aneurysm. I knew that there was some risk to having the surgery done. I made up my mind that now was the time to get right with God, before I had the surgery. I talked to the pastors and was baptized May 24, 2003. What a glorious day! A few days later I had surgery and all went well. Praise the Lord!