A JEWISH GIRL’S HUNGER FOR MESSIAH 
By Mindy Reid

I found this world very cold from the get-go. My mom loved me and had many wonderful qualities, but she had an anger problem and would get into many rages. Often I was the scapegoat, being the oldest and only girl among three boys. Mom talked of the Holocaust often, having grown up during that time in a Chicago neighborhood where Jewish immigrants flooded to escape what was happening in Europe. Many did not make it out of Europe, and were never heard from again, including some of my relatives.

I remember being aware of these things at a very early age. I couldn’t tell you if I was six, seven, eight, or nine years old, but I was too young and intensely fearful to process it. I saw the numbers branded on survivors’ arms and the painful secrets in their dark eyes of things they saw and torture they endured. To maintain their sanity, most of them would never repeat the graphic details of what happened in those camps.

Life terrified me, knowing what humans were capable of, and that out of the blue someone could think, “Hey, let’s kill all the Jews.” It terrified me even more to think that Christians would rally around them, and what happened in Germany could be repeated. I knew there had to be a force of evil in the world, even though no one would talk about it. The movie, The Exorcist, came out when I was in junior high school. I heard there was a devil, and I believed it. As a little girl, I had an attraction to the little bit I knew about Jesus and Christian love, but I was confused because from what I picked up from the Gentiles, it seemed as if Jesus Himself didn’t like Jews. I had so many questions about God and was searching for Him. I needed help!

What made us Jews the chosen people? It seemed as if we were chosen to be hated and punished, though as a people no one could deny that we had enjoyed favor at the same time. The Christians I knew implied or flat out told me that we killed Christ because we were Jewish, and I concluded that Jesus Himself was probably “pissed off” at me and didn’t want a Jew either. This really doesn’t add to a person’s self-esteem, especially a young girl who thinks Jesus might be real, and if so, would have to conclude that God Himself would want nothing to do with my Jewish self. It seemed that salvation was only for non-Jewish people.

Still, I assumed that there was something else between God and the Jews since I witnessed the miracle of the Six-Day War in Israel. The war was very important in my community, because if Jews did not have a homeland another Holocaust could erupt anywhere. Many people groups, including some Christians, seemed to think they were doing God a favor by ridding Him of His Son’s murderers.

I was a very unusual child to be all caught up in this. It was not the norm. I didn’t know then that I was an intercessor and my sensitivity was a gift from God. None of my peers were as intense as I was. They were normal kids who wanted to ride their bikes and go to the park. But I was in a Jewish environment only up to the age of about fourteen or fifteen.

Growing Up With an Eating Disorder
I became an aberration in my family until about the eighth grade. I acted out my fears and loneliness by gorging myself on food and then frantically trying to rid myself of the pounds with obsessive dieting. Since kindergarten, I had been ashamed of being even five or ten pounds overweight. By the time I was eight or nine years old, I learned of dieting, and memorized the calorie count of almost everything I ate. I was obsessed with losing weight, but the comfort and joy of eating outweighed my willpower to abstain from sweets and other delicacies. The bouts of eating gradually increased my weight gains to anywhere from five to thirty pounds.

I stayed in a mode of defeat, except for a few seasons when I lost all the weight. But after a short while I gained it all back. After a period of dieting, it was as if a dam would break and I would gorge myself on all the forbidden foods. I started cutting school in the eighth grade because I was either too ashamed of my weight or too weak and sick from the gorging. I would have seasons of losing, during which I was my family’s little princess; but when I was fat, they were repulsed and ashamed because I had gained the weight back.

My sense of self-hate and rejection was unbearable and I made an attempt at suicide during my early teens. Miraculously, I vomited up all the pills I had taken. I actually talked to God and said, “It’s obvious I am a mistake on this earth. Since my family hates me and I seem to ruin everything, I will do this to do everyone a favor and make your world a better place by taking myself out.” God spared me, and I took it as a sign that I was supposed to be here. God had mercy on me in my ignorance. I’ve since sung at memorials where the teens have taken pills like I did, but with a tragic outcome.

I cut school a lot and eventually was kicked out by the time I fifteen years old. This was unheard of in my family and in my neighborhood. My parents didn’t know what to do with me. I paraded my behavior as rebellious, because it was less shameful to be thought of as a delinquent than to admit that I was simply powerless over food and over the attendant fear, self-loathing, and paranoia.

That was the foundational springboard to my adult years. I had a year or so - from fourteen to fifteen - where I got high on marijuana because the kids on drugs were the only ones who would befriend me. I liked the escape from reality, but then I grew too paranoid from it and hated anything mind altering, including wine and alcohol. Praise God! My drug of choice was food, and with the huge amounts of sugar and grain in my system turning into alcohol, I was often on a low-grade drunk.

Let me add that my parents were good people and worked very hard. They started with nothing, both coming from the Jewish ghetto-like neighborhoods in Chicago and were just as stumped as I was as to how to deal with a kid with emotional issues. They had had four kids in their young years - three boys besides me, the youngest dealing with a life-threatening heart disease for the first few years of his life. With the pressures of raising a family, they didn’t have time for my drama. They did everything they could financially, since they couldn’t help me emotionally, and one of their efforts was to send me to boarding school out of our neighborhood where I could have a fresh start and they wouldn’t have to deal with me.

I earned a high school diploma after all. In boarding school I still struggled with rejection, fear and food, but the eating wasn’t as bad because I had some good friends and the camaraderie of living in the dorms with teens of all backgrounds. Many were troubled like me, or from low-income black neighborhoods in Chicago, having come in through scholarship programs; and some were from wealthy families and from other states and countries.

I had studied music, and I loved to sing and play piano, mostly R&B and jazz. That was my ticket, I thought, to gain friends and respect. If nothing else, I had that going for me and I thought I could build a future on it. I endeavored to practice on my own and one day be a recording artist like Minnie Riperton, Denise Williams, Angela Bofill or Patrice Rushen, to name just a few of my artistic influences. I could finally relate to something great and I could sing their music and often figure out by ear how to accompany myself by piano, though in comparison with other keyboard players, my playing was not great. I really liked to sing and write songs. Denise Williams had a song called God Is Amazing recorded on a secular album, and I loved it and would sing it over and over again.

On to College
I was accepted at a college in St. Louis. When I found out that there was a pretty large percentage of African Americans attending the school, and in the city at large, I wanted to go to St. Louis. My parents once again financially supported me. They were excited that I was going on to college after all we’d been through, and relieved that it was far away. I wanted to have a new start outside of the Chicago area. I pursued singing and piano, and for the first time I was recognized for my gifts and won talent scholarships every year. I found a reason to live. I was picked up by a black all-male R&B jazz fusion band, the only white and/or female in a musical group. We played the “chitlin’ circuit,” the numerous string of small, black, low-paying dives. Some assumed I was mixed because they’d never seen a white in those neighborhoods or one that sang like me. Others didn’t think that at all, and a few resented me.

When I gained the thirty pounds back I didn’t visually fit the role of the “attractive female band member,” and the standards were very high that I “represent,” because after all, not many white people had the privilege to be accepted as an R&B artist. I was humiliated and ashamed. The devil kept planting thoughts that I’d heard all my young life, even from my own parents, “I don’t know what it is about you, but you ruin every opportunity. You are the most self-destructive person I’ve ever met.” This mantra was even verbalized among professionals. Man, did I need a Savior!

I had three different boyfriends in those four years. I loved “being in love,” and thought these relationships could fill the void that only God would eventually fill. They all resulted in tragedy. One guy died overnight in a car crash. The one I shacked up with in the dorm during my senior year, dumped me after that. All of them were musicians I played with. They became a distraction from the food and depression. I praise God for everyone I encountered in St. Louis, because they all taught me something. For the most part, they were the first group of people to accept and appreciate me; they influenced me artistically and musically. There were many wonderful times.

I hungered for God. I remember kneeling in my dorm and praying, “God, if you are Jesus, just let me know. I’ll worship you if you just let me know how and who you are.” In the black community I knew some who got born again and filled with the Holy Spirit and literally changed overnight. I was amazed, but didn’t give it much thought, though the seed was planted.

Introduction to the Savior
Right after graduation, I moved into my own apartment in downtown Chicago. I waited tables, played at piano bars and sang in jazz clubs. I missed my friends in St. Louis, but the band had fizzled out (too many bad influences, like drugs). Since I was in the performing arts, appearances and weight were very important. I would be thin, exercise almost daily one season and then get fat and be isolated the next. When I was fat I lost gigs, when I got thin I got gigs. I joined a group called Overeaters Anonymous that treated overeating just like an alcohol addiction. It was a twelve-step program that talked about finding God. One of the ladies who influenced me was an attractive middle age Jewish lady who, to my surprise, was born again. She led me to the Lord during one of my down times. That is how I got saved. She asked me if I wanted to know about Jesus, and I said yes. Prior to that, a few black Christians at different times in my life told me God loved the Jewish people, giving me a different perspective of the Lord. One told me that if I ever came to Jesus the promises and blessings would be awesome, especially because I was a Jew. So I received Him from the witness of this Jewish lady named Mickey. I never saw her again, because a few weeks later I admitted myself into an Eating Disorder Unit in Los Angeles (again with my parent’s support). It was run just like a drug rehab; in fact, it was in a drug rehab center. I didn’t know during that flight to Los Angeles that I would be leaving Chicago for good.

I moved to Hollywood and pursued a secular singing career. I wasn’t in an environment to learn the Word until about six years later. For the next five years I continued to sing in clubs, overseas, and I had a lead in a jazz musical. I had watched Dr. Frederick K. C. Price on television for years. I didn’t watch him on purpose; it just seemed that after college, when I would turn to different stations at the midnight hour, he was always on, talking about the devil, the authority of the believer and about the world system, and he caught my attention. He spoke very matter-of-factly about Jesus, His power, and the truth of the New Testament. The people in the congregation seemed very determined and serious about what was being taught.

It was only on television that I saw people besides me who believed in Jesus. Everyone I knew in entertainment had gotten into New Age or other cults, and if they were Christians, they didn’t seem any different. I approached a member of the musical who was a Christian about going to Bible study, and she took me to Crenshaw Christian Center. I had no idea it was Dr. Price’s church until my third time attending. Apparently he had been out of town and assistant pastors - who were great - taught the classes. My car was broken into during my first Bible study, but I kept going back anyway. I didn’t care.

My Life Changes
I received the infilling of the Holy Spirit with the evidence of speaking with tongues right away and joined the church. I stopped attending the church for a short period when tithing was taught because, in my ignorance, I thought, “This is about money.” Then I quickly came back because, I thought, whether tithing is real or not, just to stomp on the devil, I want to give and support his enemy - the Church.

The twelve-step programs and other New Age folks had no answers or power compared to what I had witnessed among believers, plus I was starting to get persecution in the twelve-step programs. Due to my naiveté, I would excitedly report to them that I had found my higher power - Jesus! They were not too thrilled with that name, which only confirmed the Word of God more to me. I needed the highest Power, the one and only God, who is love and alive and the Creator. There is only one. God blessed me with a sponsor for my eating program, who totally supported and applauded my walk with Jesus. I needed a twelve-step support group to define, support and guide me in a food plan, as well as to school me on the tools to arrest compulsive overeating. Sixteen years later, I still follow the same plan, but my support group consists of some lovely Christian women and the Bible rather than the “Big Book” from the twelve-step program.

I needed a job. I proceeded to get secretarial and basic computer skills, and stopped singing secular music. (The desire to sing words that had no life in them completely left me.) At Crenshaw Christian Center, Pastor L. Craig Hays prophesied and laid hands on me at the Alcohol and Drug Abuse Program, where I attended for one year and received a certificate of completion. I needed something to replace the fellowship of the secular twelve-step program I had been attending. I was soon employed at Crenshaw Christian Center, and three weeks later, on Easter Sunday, March 26, 1989, I had my last eating binge. It’s been sixteen years and I’ve maintained a very healthy, normal weight and have not touched sugar, starches, snacks, and grains (except for wheat germ) for all this time. I have never deviated in these years from a very specific weighed and measured food plan, or eaten in between meals, nor have I starved myself with anorexic behavior.

In November 1989, a man asked me out. He was very spiritual and pure, respectable, smart, and kind, and he truly followed Jesus. On our first date he asked me to marry him in obedience to what God showed him, and God revealed to me as well that this was His best for me. I believe God said to me that He would love me and bless me no matter who I married, but I would never reach the heights He had for me spiritually if I passed this one up. This was His best, even though I felt no physical attraction or infatuation. I realized my past relationships never led to anything but disaster anyway, and beauty was in the eye of the beholder. I was surprised God was giving me to a Caucasian man, but that’s another story. I hope if you are believing for a mate that you will be open to God’s best and not reject a gift because of looks or appearance.

Married to a Prophet
My husband has a call on his life as a prophet. We have had a tremendous marriage. He is my best friend, and we have a lot of fun together. I knew before we married he had had fifteen or more surgeries, was suppose to die three times, and was told he would never have kids or a normal life. Well, we have an eight-year-old son together. My husband has had many health challenges throughout our marriage, but has overcome each one because of Jesus. We had to be strong in faith.

There were many trips to the emergency rooms and ICU, eye surgeries, sinus surgeries, mysterious ailments, digestive disorders, small amputation on the foot, vascular bypass surgery, dialysis and kidney transplant and much we never shared with anybody. God delivered my husband out of every affliction and gave him strength to minister right out of the hospital bed. He always superseded the doctor’s expectations of his recovery. We believe my husband will have the full manifestation of his healing at any time (the root is diabetes from age six). In the meantime, he is maintaining wonderfully, in spite of some light afflictions and pain. I’ve never had any health challenges, but I did have to face three miscarriages. Other than that we have had a jolly old time! My husband is an assistant pastor now at Crenshaw. We are both very grateful and honored of God to be trusted with serving His people and proclaiming His Word.

We decided by faith that I would stay home to raise our son in spite of financial challenges. I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for more than eight years now. My son has had some challenges and “labels,” yet is extremely intelligent to the point of being gifted. We both knew that our first child would be a boy and we would name him Michael after my husband. This we believed five years before he was conceived.

The warfare was on for my seed. I was told when he was in my womb that he very likely would be a Down’s syndrome baby, but I heard that still small voice tell me to “War [in the spirit] for your child. The devil is a liar and the opposite is true!” I home-schooled little Michael for kindergarten and first grade because I knew he was more intelligent and gifted than what he was labeled. He is in school now and doing great, though I may home-school in the future. We stay before God and take Michael’s schooling a year at a time. He is progressing by leaps and bounds. We see manifestations daily. He is a beautiful child and loves Jesus. He writes his own songs to the Lord and memorizes scripture faster than I do. I believe we will have a little girl too.

I’ve grown so much spiritually over the years, thanks to Dr. Price, his wife Dr. Betty, ministers on staff at CCC, as well as other ministry gifts that God has used to impact my life. I can go on and on about the blessings, the joy, the wonderful friends, the prayer partners, the peace, and creativity in Christ. Knowing God is the most exciting journey, and He will bring out of us every gift, talent, strength that we thought we had or didn’t know we had. I even learned to enjoy the warfare and trials as a contender for the faith, knowing that we always triumph through Christ. And since trials come, we can use the experience to have compassion and help others who are in the same boat by leading them to Jesus so they, too, can be healed and live joyous lives.

I left out much about persecution and separation from things and people, only to discover that in time God substitutes a life that is a hundred times better. I had to be willing to be a pioneer and go it alone, but He was always with me. He never left me nor forsook me, and when people did, it gave me more time with the Father. Stand strong for what you believe. Jesus is real, no matter what the circumstances look like, and healing, restoration, and prosperity will come to pass if you keep your mind and life on Him.

Oh yeah, I still sing, but only the highest form of music - the Gospel.

First Corinthians 1:27-29 says, “But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are: That no flesh should glory in his presence.”

This scripture is one of my favorites and sums up my testimony.