Johnson Family Testimony

Windows on the World, the restaurant at the top of the World Trade Center towers, was aptly named. From this seemingly impenetrable tower, guests looked down upon the rest of the city, truly, “above it all.” And that is where I found myself, living the dream of my youth: A fashion editor for a nationally distributed magazine, traveling by limousine, dining with the winners of our model search in the Fashion Mecca of New York City.

As I looked down on the traffic whizzing through the streets, I thought to myself smugly, “I’ve really made it. I really have it all.”

Success was sweet. I was a self-made writer who sweated her way to the top of her profession -- writing business, technology and fashion. I interviewed some of the top business moguls of my generation, and I was the first to see the latest fashions hit the runway. My name was on a masthead, and my husband and I were building our dream home.

Life was perfect, or so I thought. Then, one morning, I awoke to see two towers falling to the ground, reduced to ashes. Instantly, the thought came into my head, “Could this be Armageddon? Could this be all I learned about in youth meetings? Are those ashes what I have been building my life upon?”

Within months, we moved into our new home, which to me, was a castle with all the most beautiful amenities in a gated community. All seemed well. But it wasn’t. I settled into my home, and I was nagged by what my life truly was. From the outside, my husband and I were living a dream life. Our careers were on the fast track, and our children were doing well. But inside those walls, my life was crumbling. I was miserable. All I had was not enough. I knew that the truth was, I was empty.

I needed to find a way to fill that void. The void left by the truth that my life’s work was truly meaningless. The words I crafted ended their days lining bird cages. My marriage was hollow. I realized that I was not going to find what I needed in my home. I went to my husband, and I told him I wanted a divorce. We sat across from our children a few days later, and as they cried and pleaded with us, I staunchly repeated what I had told my husband. Mommy needs to leave. She is not happy here and she can’t fix what is broken.

Unbeknownst to me, during this period, at our darkest point, my husband had been talking with a friend, named Robert. His friend spoke words of life to him, telling him that he would not regain his wife until he learned about the source of true love. He challenged my husband to pray and seek God.

One evening, Layne came to me, and he asked, “Please, give me just a few weeks. I want to go back to church.” I laughed, for though I was raised in a Christian church, when I met him, I had converted to his family’s religion, the Church of Jesus Christ Latter Day Saints, the Mormons. I knew that he would not find what he was looking for there. But, I thought, he had been gracious enough not to fight my decision, so what was a few more weeks?

“Not the Mormon church,” he then said. And he left it at that. Within a few days, he was seeking out a church. We found a small congregation and began to attend. Yet, there was no change in our lives. A change of activity in our lifestyle was not enough to change our lives.

Then, Robert invited him to Promise Keepers, which was going to be held in Las Vegas. Layne did not want to go, but his friend had purchased the tickets, and they were expensive, so he felt beholden.

The man who returned from Promise Keepers that evening was not the man who left.

The man who returned from Promise Keepers that evening was not the man who left. The man who came back to me was loving, kind and humble. He wanted to spend more time with his sons. He wanted to invest in our marriage. He was a seeker of God’s word, and he would go into our bedroom closet each morning and he would pray to the Lord. He prayed for me. He prayed for our family. And God heard his prayers.

I found out later, that the first evening, while Joe White spoke, Layne felt the Lord speaking to him, and he answered the altar call that night. From the Lord, to Promise Keepers, to our household, a miracle was sent. A miracle that has changed our family, as we have watched our children accept Christ and be baptized, a miracle that has changed our family, as I closed my writing business, and became a home school mother, a miracle that has changed the lives of men where he works –one of whom later helped to fill and inspire a bus load of men on their way to a Promise Keepers’ event.

My emptiness…filled. My life…completed. Because when you bring a man to Christ, he will bring his family. For each man at the altar at an event, there is a family and extended family and a work crew whom he will impact.

There is no greater way to invest what the Lord provides, than to invest time, talent and gold in introducing a man to Christ. The dividends are eternal. And no ministry is so blessed by God to reach out to men as Promise Keepers.

Thank you for investing in our family, and another family, tomorrow.