Teena Myers

I sat transfixed as Pamela shared her struggle with weight loss and the evolution of her book, The Rest of the Truth. She dropped tidbits of the remarkable transformation God performed in her life before she developed a weight problem, which whetted my appetite to know more. At the conclusion of her presentation, she agreed to meet me for lunch.

“I came from a respected family that was well known in the community. My father was president of the Downtown Merchants Association, and my mother stayed home. Every Sunday, they took us to the United Methodist Church. My parents loved me, which makes it hard to explain my abnormal behavior,” Pamela said.

Despite her loving family, she became obsessive, compulsive, and uncontrollable at a young age. Her personality flaws exceeded the normal quirks of others: a tendency to isolate herself, poor eye contact, an inability to listen and communicate, stealing, and lying. When she was seven, she packed a wagon with supplies, wrote a note saying she was leaving, and hid in a ditch until her parents found her. Eating disorders began at age eight. She attempted suicide at age eleven by slitting her wrists with a razor blade.

Pamela sipped her iced tea and then continued. “The second time I ran away from home, a friend from school let me live in her attic until she saw my face in the newspaper and on TV. Forced to leave with no place to go, I called home, and the police picked me up. Then I stole my parents’ car. They found me at a motel in bed with a drunken old man. By this time, my parents were sure I had a mental problem.”

“My parents committed me to a state‑run mental health hospital. I avoided the rats by sleeping in a chair.” Pamela pointed to her head. “My thoughts were dark and distorted. I liked the hospital and was disappointed when they released me six weeks later.”

Concerned about the stigma Pamela bore for being a patient in a mental hospital, her parents enrolled her in a private boarding school run by the Seventh-Day Adventists. Pamela smiled. “My parents loved me and gave me a wonderful opportunity to turn my life around.” Her smile faded. “I snuck out one night and two men picked me up. After partying all night, the men took me back to the school and left me in a drunken stupor on the lawn. My parents’ hopes that I would graduate and live a normal life were dashed when the school called and demanded they come get me.”

A judge sentenced Pamela to the Columbia State Training School. Most of the girls at the reform school were poor and from abusive homes. They relieved their frustrations by beating up new girls when they entered the bathroom. Pamela learned most of the girls were illiterate and won their favor by reading their letters from social workers. Life in the reform school became bearable when she befriended a large girl who became her bodyguard.

“The girls at the reform school scared me straight,” said Pamela. “I wanted God and asked to meet the chaplain. If he had told me God loved me and could help me, I think I would have responded. Instead, he told me how good my parents were and how they did not deserve the pain my actions created.”

When Pamela returned home, her parents allowed her to date a young man from a nearby naval base, hoping a husband would normalize her life. “Everyone loved Al, but he was overweight. At the time, I was thin. I think he was happy to have a cute girlfriend and didn’t pay attention to my mental problems. I felt nothing for Al. When he asked me to marry him, I said ‘yes,’ but I don’t know why.”

Pamela decided to improve her life while Al was in Vietnam and enrolled in college. She quickly fell into an immoral lifestyle. Distressed that she could not control herself, she attempted suicide. Her parents admitted her to a private psychiatric hospital. Electric shock treatments failed to change her behavior. “When Al returned from Vietnam and learned what I had done, he still wanted me. No one should have wanted me, but he loved me very much and saw the good in me.”

At this point in her story, Pamela stopped to reflect on her religious experience. “Many people had the opportunity to share the gospel with me, but I don’t remember anyone telling me that God loved me and could help me. Plenty of people scolded me for my bad behavior and demanded to know why I did things that hurt my parents and husband. The burden for my behavior was always placed on my shoulders, but I didn’t know how to change.”

Hoping a different environment would help Pamela, Al took his young bride to South Carolina, where Susan, Al’s sister‑in‑law, talked to Pamela about biblical prophecy and gave her a Bible written in modern‑day English. Pamela believed the gospel story was a myth, but the prophecies Jesus fulfilled intrigued her.

When Pamela’s behavior showed no signs of improvement, Al expressed regret for marrying her. Pamela fell into a depression. Thoughts of suicide returned. For the first time in her life, Pamela wanted help. She committed herself to a mental hospital, hoping to find a cure.

“I looked out the window of the hospital and watched a mother put her children in the car as she chatted with a neighbor. I remember thinking, She is ordinary, but I’ll never be ordinary.” Having lost hope of living a normal life and weary of hurting the people who loved her, Pamela escaped from the hospital. She planned to hitchhike to New Orleans and disappear among the street people.

Pamela leaned forward, her voice serious. “As I walked down a dark and lonely road, I thought about the prophecies Jesus had fulfilled and about the prophecies in the Middle East that had recently been fulfilled. I remembered some scriptures I had read and thought about the Billy Graham Crusades I had watched with my parents, which always concluded with an invitation to come just as you are. Then I remembered a sermon about faith I’d heard as a child. The pastor said all we needed was faith the size of a tiny mustard seed. Those thoughts gave me permission to call on God, so I prayed, ‘God, I still have a lot of questions and doubts, but I think I have a little faith, and I want you.’” Pamela’s voice trembled, and she wept as she continued. “I pleaded with God to make me ordinary.”

Pamela wiped away the tears rolling down her face. “After I prayed, I looked around and realized I was alone on a dark highway near a forest. I knew God had done something in my mind because I reacted like an ordinary person; I was afraid. In the past, I always ran away from problems, but for the first time in my life, I had the strength to face the consequences of my actions. As I walked back toward the hospital, I prayed for a safe ride. A nice man in a station wagon stopped. When I got in the car, the fear left. He brought me back to the hospital.”

The next day, Pamela felt drawn to the Bible. She spent every spare moment reading scripture. One day she awoke and everything looked different. “The air was different. The room looked different, and I felt like I was a different person. Eventually, my husband noticed the dramatic change in me. He confessed that he had accepted Christ when he was twelve but had drifted away.”

Pamela and Al returned to church, but the road wasn’t easy. The first fifteen years of their marriage were difficult as Al taught Pamela normal social skills. The last fifteen years, both developed severe obesity problems. Pamela eventually won her battle with obesity and became a personal fitness trainer. After years on the dieting roller coaster and multiple bariatric surgeries, Al lost his battle. He died of obesity‑related illnesses.

The apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “[Love] always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” I turned off my recorder and studied the face of a woman transformed by the love of God and a husband who never gave up on her. She is the most ordinary person I have ever met.