From Judaism to Jesus Christ — Part One
by Nancy Goldberg Hilton

My name is Nancy Goldberg Hilton. I was raised Jewish and experienced a miracle from God at Rainbow Bridge on Lake Pala in 1992. In a single moment I was changed — from not believing in God to becoming a woman who knew the reality of God and His Son, Jesus Christ. This is part one of my story.

As a young Jewish child I felt close to God when I sat in the synagogue listening to our rabbi. But as I grew older my need for God faded. By the time I graduated college and started working, my religion had become more of a tradition than a living belief. After all, the God I read about seemed ancient and His miracles happened a long time ago. What did He have to do with my life? He did not feel real.

Jesus Christ, to me, was an enemy. In His name my ancestors were killed; my family was persecuted, and it still happens today. I worked very hard in business and eventually achieved what the world would call success. I was married, and our combined income enabled us to purchase things I thought would make us happy: a vacation home, an extra car, clothes, and so on. We could say, “Look at us — we are a success.” But the things we owned began to rule our lives, and we had to work longer hours to support them.

The outward appearance was very important. I had the trappings of success by the world’s standards, but inside I was empty and afraid. I hated going home at night as my marriage was failing, so I worked late and long hours. I would ask myself, “What more is there to life? Is this all?” Why was I feeling so alone and empty inside? How could I feel better?

I knew some people filled their emptiness with worldly activities that were not good for them, but I did not smoke, take drugs, or drink alcohol — and I never would start. I knew that wasn’t the answer. Thoughts of suicide coursed through my mind quite often at night as I tried to work through my problems. Then a thought came to me: maybe I could say a prayer.

I remembered that as a child I felt comforted when I recited the Shema, the sacred Jewish prayer. I did not realize then that I was trying to reach out to God in the only way I knew how.