It’s been almost 15 years (May, 1993) that I received a phone call from Millet’s Motel in LaPlace.  The person calling was a young lady named Teresa.  She told me she was on her way to Arizona and had stopped for the night.  A Sheriff’s Department employee had given her my name as she was asking about a 12-step program concerning alcoholism.  I told her where the meetings were held.  

“Do you know someone who might be making the meeting tonight and could give me a ride?” she asked.  I took her phone number and told her I would make a few calls to ladies that I knew with the same problem.  After a few calls and not being able to find someone, I called her back.  I then offered to take her to the meeting and told her she would be able to get a ride back to the motel.  

I have to admit that I wasn’t that excited about the call and the fact that I offered to take her to the meeting.  

When we got to the meeting, someone immediately asked if I would moderate the meeting.  “No,” I said.  “I’m not staying for the meeting.”  I then said, “Let Teresa moderate.  She’ll do a good job.”  “I’ve never moderated a group,” she replied, “but I will if you stay.”  I, reluctantly, agreed.

The meeting was good and I drove my new friend back to the motel.  She was very appreciative.  I prayed with her and said, “I’ll probably never see you again.  (Little did I know.)  

Over the years, she kept in touch with me, at least once a year.

Three months ago, she called from St. George, Utah, and asked if I would speak at their group’s annual conference scheduled for February 22, 23, and 24.  I was excited and honored to be asked.  The conference was called “Dixie Winterfest 11th Annual Fun in the Sun.”  

My three days in St. George were truly a blessing.  I got to see my long-distance friend after almost 15 years and met over 300 participants at the conference.  

It’s amazing that wherever you go, people may look and speak different, but the problems are the same.  I was honored to speak on Sunday morning at the closing spiritual session.  I was able to share what God had done in my life and how Jesus was the Lord of my life.  It was a good weekend!

As I look back, I thank God that I answered that phone call in 1993 and responded to Teresa’s request to bring her to a meeting.  I’m reminded that God is not impressed with our ability, but with our availability, to answer the call when someone is in need.

If you have any questions, or comments, please write to Get High on Life, P.O. Drawer U, Reserve, LA 70084, call (985) 652-8477, or e-mail: hkeller@comcast.net.