It was pretty naive, especially considering I’d witnessed firsthand how hard it was to quit the nicotine habit. My mother smoked when I was little. My dad, sister, and I HATED it. My mother’s parents, my Mimi and Pop, smoked. They smoked inside their house and in their cars. The smell was awful. Still, to this day, when I get in the car of a smoker, it takes me back to my childhood and makes my stomach turn. But Mimi, Pop, Mom, and her sister, Lynn, all gave up the habit together when Pop was diagnosed with a lung disease. It was not easy for Mom. She quit for ten years, but started smoking again later and tried hiding it from all of us. Dad has never smoked. He is our practical thinker. So Mom hid her smoking from him. We all did. If he had known I was a smoker, he would have been extremely disappointed. One time he discovered a pack of my cigarettes on the front walkway outside, and I later found them on my pillowcase. That was his way of saying, “I don’t want a confrontation or hear you try to lie your way out of it, but I want you to know how deeply disappointed I am.” That hurt. I knew I had let him down.
When I started smoking more and more throughout high school, I decided if I was going to pick up this nasty habit, I was going to do it in the most glamorous way. After all, my friends already called me “Hollywood.” So I bought a silver cigarette case and filled it with my cigarette of choice: the skinny, minty Virginia Slim Super Slim menthol. We shortened the name to the “VSSS.” When my friends wanted one, they said, “Hollywood, may I have one of your VSSS’s?” I smiled and handed them my cigarette case—enjoying every minute of it.
I didn’t think anything I did was that inconsistent with attending church on Sundays. The Lutheran Church didn’t cast condemnation or make me feel guilty. I knew my parents and God wouldn’t approve of my choices, but I was still able to separate my social and church lives. It was as though those two parts of my life stayed in their own spheres. As I got older and was able to go out at night (my curfew was 11 P.M.), we all lied to our parents, went to parties on Saturday nights, and then showed up bright and early for church on Sunday mornings. That didn’t seem like a big deal. Everyone else did the same thing. In fact, most of the time I felt pretty good about my life. I had a Bible, actually several. My dad gave them to me. I kept one of them next to my bed, and I read Scripture when I was sad or going through a tough time. My best friend Cindy, who drove me to school, gave me a bookmark with Scripture verses that correlated to particular emotions.
And yet, when I was around people who were really “sold out” for Jesus, I knew something was missing in my life. One guy, Eric, in particular really made an impression on me. He hung out with the most popular people and was quite outspoken about his faith. He was older than I was and had a long-term relationship with a girl in Atlanta. He told everybody they were committed to wait until marriage before having sex. That made an impression on me. I wanted to be that kind of person as well. Around the same time, our youth group leader played a Christian video for us talking about sex and the struggles high school students experience. One girl in the video said, “I am still a virgin, and any day I can be like my friends, but they can never go back and be like me.” Although I know now God is all about redemption and grace, I still wanted my virginity to be a special gift I gave my husband on our wedding night. That was important to me.
Eric was the closest thing on earth to Jesus for me. Somehow he was able to live a solid, Christian life, make good choices, and surround himself with the smokers and drinkers. As John 17:16 suggests, he was in the world but not of the world. I wanted to be like that. So, when he hosted Young Life, a campus ministry geared toward high school students, at his parents’ house—I was there. There was always pizza, good snacks, Coca-Colas, and a good mix of the social crowd and Christian crowd. I always wanted to go and never wanted to leave.
We all congregated in Eric’s basement and sat on the carpet in front of a movie screen that displayed the words of contemporary Christian songs. One leader played the guitar and another sang. After we sang a mix of secular and Christian songs, one of the Young Life leaders told his or her story or gave a Bible lesson. One college leader, who was cute and seemed cool (all of the high school girls loved him), shared his story about Jesus saving him from a life of alcohol and drugs. Although I had no desire to do drugs, I was still taken aback. This guy’s story seemed much more dramatic than just going to confirmation classes.
I also had someone in my life, even to this day I have no idea who, that put letters in my mailbox at random times. When the first one arrived I opened it and read, “This is Jesus. I just wanted to tell you that I love you.” Another said, “I watched you go through your day today. You were so busy but you never made time for me. Love, Jesus.” I still have many of those letters today.
In spite of the letters, and the testimonies at Young Life, the only dramatic decision I made about my life during high school was to go to college. I knew something was missing in my life, but I also had a strong sense that God had something in store for me that was bigger than high school, my hometown, and even South Carolina. I didn’t crave fame, like I had when I was a little girl, but I was still in love with the idea of becoming an actress. As high school drew to a close I really wanted to attend a college with a great theater program, but I knew my parents would never go for it. My dad wasn’t working multiple jobs for me to major in something that had such an uncertain future. Whatever I did, I wanted to repay my parents’ efforts by working hard, to give back to them for all they’d done for me.
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At a Crossroads
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.
—PROVERBS 3:5–6
I MAY HAVE grown up dreaming of becoming an actress, but by the time I went off to college, I was convinced I should become an orthodontist. While it seems odd today to think of myself doing anything other than broadcast journalism, my family orthodontist convinced me that I should follow in his footsteps.
Dr. Richard Boyd was not only my orthodontist but a family friend, a mentor, and a Godsend. When he put the first set of braces on my teeth I was twelve years old and quite excited. Every middle school student wanted crooked teeth—just so they could be Dr. Boyd’s patient. One waiting room in his office was set up like a big playroom for kids, with all the latest toys and gadgets, including a Sega Genesis system, which was huge at the time. On the parents’ side of the office he offered free drinks from a mini–soda machine along with coffee, hot chocolate, cider, and fresh baked cookies. A big bulletin board covered one wall with photos of all the kids who’d gotten their braces off. Every time I went in I studied the board to see if any of my friends were on it, or if there were any cute, older boys from my school. Needless to say, everyone I knew with braces went to Dr. Boyd. The treatment room was set up with all the typical dentist chairs in one big area rather than being separated into individual cubicles. That allowed my friends and me to talk while we waited our turns to have our braces adjusted. At the end of the appointment, when it was time to schedule my next visit, the front-desk ladies always asked me if I wanted to make it for a time when my friends were in the office too. Dr. Boyd and his staff actually made having braces fun.
One summer night right before the start of my freshman year of high school Dr. Boyd and his wife, Stacy, came over to our house. When they were leaving, my entire family went out on the porch with them to tell them good-bye. It was a hot summer night with lightning bugs flying around. Dr. Boyd turned to me and asked, “Do you think you would ever want to come work for me?” I couldn’t believe my ears. All the girls on his office staff wore the best, matching clothes from the coolest stores. I think my first question was, “Do I get the clothes too?” He agreed and also threw in a few extra perks, including good hourly pay and a chance to go on the annual office work trip. Dr. Boyd usually took the staff to the national convention for orthodontists and gave us a few days to explore the city where it was held. My seni
or year of high school we went to San Francisco. Dr. Boyd was scheduled to speak at the University of the Pacific and he took me to listen to his lecture. I fell in love with California and became very excited about my future. I knew the sky was the limit and the choices I made at that point would direct my path and determine my life’s trajectory.
Over the next four years of high school I rotated jobs at Dr. Boyd’s office. The first year I worked in the back bay, where we saw the patients. I sterilized instruments, helped with molds for the retainers, and made up the bags filled with all the candy we couldn’t eat while we were wearing braces; Dr. Boyd gave them to his patients when he took off their braces. Later I worked the front desk, making appointments. When I got my driver’s license I ran errands for the office and for the Boyd family. Eventually he let me look inside the patients’ mouths, with their parents’ permission, and he showed me how to change the “ties,” that is, the bands around each bracket. When the young, middle school girls asked me if they should get ties in different colors, I always said yes. I encouraged them to be themselves and choose fun colors that evoked their personalities or a certain holiday.
Since I was a high school girl working in the office, the middle school girls looked up to me. That gave me such a heart for young girls which I carry still to this day. Middle school is a time when girls first shave their legs, get their ears pierced, and get their first bra. It is a meaningful time for a girl. You are growing up and becoming a woman. As an employee at Dr. Boyd’s office, I felt privileged to have a small influence on these young, precious girls. Plus, I enjoyed working. I liked having a schedule and loved getting a paycheck. I was able to pay for my own clothes, gas, food, and even my senior trip. I took great pride in telling friends I had to go to work (instead of hanging out after class) and telling my dad I did not need lunch money when he’d ask me each day. Looking back, I think he took great pride himself in not giving me the five-dollar bill. He had the money, but knew taking care of myself was a good lesson for me to learn.
As I have said, Dad and Mom worked hard to save money for my sister, brother, and me to go to college. They are good people and parents. They wanted to give us nice lives while also teaching us the value of a dollar and the importance of hard work. Knowing that, I always enjoyed paying my own way. I wanted to relieve my parents’ stress and help them out however I could. Dr. Boyd gave me a great opportunity. He was flexible about my schedule, gave me hours Monday through Friday, and understood if I had a school commitment and couldn’t come to work. By the time I was ready to go off to college, he told me if I became an orthodontist, I could take over his practice eventually. He even offered to help with the cost of dental school after college. With that said, he knew I wanted to be an actress and that Mom and Dad were never going to let me major in theater. While I had not given up on my dream of living in California or New York, I was also realistic. I loved my high school science classes, and Dr. Boyd made such a great offer that I decided to major in biology then go on to dental school to become an orthodontist.
I applied to six colleges and narrowed down my choices to Clemson University, which was a couple of hours from home in northwest South Carolina, and Florida State University, which was more than six hours away in Tallahassee. My parents told us we had to go to an in-state school unless we had a scholarship that made the cost the same as in-state tuition. I was up for a scholarship at Florida State, but despite calling every day, I had not heard anything definitive and it was time to make my choice. On deadline day my friend Jamie and I drove to Clemson to turn in nonrefundable checks. We had to pay that first check or lose our spots. However, before I handed my check over I called the admissions office at FSU one last time. The woman on the other end of the phone did some checking; when she came back to me, she said, “Ainsley, you got the scholarship!” This was ordained.
Her words were the answer to my prayers. I couldn’t believe the impeccable timing. After I heard the news I thanked God then called my parents. I knew God was in this. He kept me on my knees the entire time—all the way until the end—only to bless me at the last moment. My friend Jamie handed over her check with pure excitement. Her entire family had graduated from Clemson and this was her dream come true. Meanwhile, I took my check home and gave it back to my dad. The Florida State scholarship covered about half of the cost of tuition, which made it about the same price as a state school in South Carolina. God’s timing is perfect. Everything worked out and I was Florida bound.
I DOVE INTO college life. Just like high school, I was always the good girl, but if fun was going on, I wanted to be in the middle of it. My classes were hard, especially chemistry. I didn’t help myself much by staying out late and trying to cram in some study time in the middle of the night. I also had a part-time job. Dr. Boyd arranged for me to work for an orthodontist in Tallahassee, which provided more experience, training, and spending money.
The first big decision I had to make when I moved into my dorm was which sorority I should rush. While that may seem like an insignificant decision, it actually proved to be life-changing. At Florida State you have to visit all sixteen sororities before choosing one. The Greek Council gives you a schedule, you visit the sorority houses, and meet hundreds of young women. I remember my mouth killing me from the plastered smile I wore for a week. I was torn between Pi Beta Phi and Alpha Delta Pi. I called my mom and said, “This is the biggest decision I’ve ever made in my life. Which sorority should I choose?” We still laugh about that to this day, but, at the time, it was important to me. By the end of rush I knew. I wanted Alpha Delta Pi. I can honestly say, God helped me make that decision. He saw the future and knew how this decision would change the course of my life.
BETWEEN CLASSES AND work I was too busy to get homesick. Tallahassee is four hundred and fifty miles from my parents’ house. Although I love my mom and dad, being that far away taught me independence. Going to a big school did not intimidate me. I was ready to be on my own.
As someone who’s always up for adventure, I am definitely my father’s child, but I also have a lot of my mom in me. She appreciates art, museums, and travel. She grew up in a country club environment and has an understanding of the finer things in life. My proper, maternal grandparents were members of a long-standing, traditional debutante club in Greenville called The Carolinian. My mother and her sister, Aunt Lynn, made their debuts their sophomore years in college and my sister and I were expected to do the same. We really didn’t have a choice, but it turned out to be a great experience. I met some lifelong friends, and it pleased my grandparents and mother.
The parties begin the summer before your sophomore year—and anyone who throws you a party gets an invitation to the big ball in December. So there were many parties in honor of the debutantes. There were lunches during the day, tennis matches at the Greenville Country Club in the afternoon and elaborate, themed parties at night. I was busy and decided to just live with my Mimi and Pop for the summer. My parents lived two hours away. When the summer was over, I went back to Tallahassee for my sophomore year and made my debut that Christmas in Greenville. One of the debutantes, Eden, was a devout Christian and we became good friends. I admired her for the way she lived her life. She was kind, never missed church on Sunday mornings, and went on mission trips with her church. Her college friends at Wake Forest University were strong Christians, too. She was different from most college kids and so were her friends. The morning after we made our debuts, I went to Eden’s hotel room (we were all staying at a big hotel downtown together) to talk to her about the night before, and found her, along with all of her friends, getting ready for church. The whole scene was impressive and I gained even more respect for her. I wanted a group of friends like that too. God was their priority.
ABOUT HALFWAY THROUGH my sophomore year I saw an announcement that Campus Crusade, an on-campus ministry, planned to take a group to New York during spring break for ministry in homeless shelters in New York City. To be honest it didn’t matter what
the group was. When I saw a chance to go to New York City, I was all over it. One of my friends also signed up, which made me feel relieved because I didn’t know anyone in Campus Crusade and I knew my parents would be worried about me going to Manhattan. But then my friend backed out at the last minute, which meant I was going to be with a group of people I did not know, people who were really into Jesus, while all my friends went to Mexico and wherever else on great vacations. Somehow, though, I didn’t dread it as much as it might sound. I really, really wanted to go to New York. As for not knowing anyone on the trip, I love meeting new people.
There was also something about this trip that felt like God wanted me to go. Throughout this time in my life I felt God pulling me toward Him. He was pulling and I kept resisting. I thought I’d have to give everything up if I surrendered my life to God. At the same time I saw something in the truly committed Christians that I didn’t see in myself, and I wanted it. I wished I could live the way they lived, but wasn’t sure how. They were all such good people. They believed they were on this earth to tell others about Christ, and they wanted to be living, breathing examples of how He lived life on Earth. They felt they were called to serve others and make this world see the goodness and glory of Christ. They didn’t pretend to be perfect. They were honest with me about their own hardships and struggles. Some had dated people who didn’t have their best interests in mind, or came from broken or abusive homes or had backgrounds of drugs or alcohol. Others grew up in the church with parents who were in the ministry. They each had different stories, but the common thread was their love for the Lord and others.
The Light Within Me Page 2