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The greatest prize
Maureen Quennel of Mosgiel promised God she would give up smoking if he let her win the darts title.
In the 1970s, in the days of smokefilled bars and bingo halls, nicotine addiction was the norm. And like most of my friends, I had a 20-cigarettes-a day habit.
I’d won several national titles and was keen to add another. I was playing the first round and needed double 16 to win over my tough opponent. I was about to throw when I heard a voice say, ‘Pack up smoking and I’ll give you the title.’
I was an atheist and using my ‘lucky’ bingo counters was the closest I got to spirituality, but in that split second I had to make a decision. I badly wanted to win, so I said yes. The dart landed right in the middle of double 16. Amid the congratulations, the reality of the bargain I’d made dawned on me. I left the cigarettes and went home.
I didn’t know whose voice I’d heard, but I was impressed enough to endure a week of agony without my nicotine fix. On the weekend, area finals were played. I easily won the singles and pairs events. Another three weeks to the South Island finals in Christchurch. The thought of winning kept me going and so I hung on, smokeless.
I stayed in a motel with three nonsmokers (a miracle in the darts crowd in those days). In our room was a magazine with horrible pictures of mouth cancers and smokers’ lungs. It was enough to make me want to never smoke again. That magazine wasn’t there ‘by accident’; it was just what I needed—because we didn’t win that weekend, we were knocked out of every category.
I arrived home disappointed at losing and puzzled why God didn’t keep our bargain. I didn’t talk about it to anyone but remembered someone had once given a Bible to my husband, George. I opened the Bible at random and read: ‘God always keeps his promises.’ This still didn’t make sense, since I’d lost, but the realisation dawned on me that if I had won, the first thing I would have done was light up a celebratory cigarette. And then I would have been back at square one with my addiction.
I saw the logic of not smoking, but the cravings continued. My doctor gave me tablets to ease my withdrawal, but they only made me feel worse. I couldn’t concentrate at work and felt so strung out I knew I’d have to start smoking again.
It was Saturday night and George was out. I was alone and miserable. I looked in the Bible again and became intrigued by the story of ‘the transfiguration of Jesus’, when a voice spoke from a cloud and Jesus’ appearance was transformed. This interested me enough to look for similar moments. I read about Jesus crucifi xion and burial, and how his friends went to complete his embalming and found his tomb empty. I read how Jesus appeared to people, alive again.
It was like considering evidence at a trial. I said to myself, ‘I reckon that could have happened.’ Immediately I was washed in a warm flowing sensation of utter peace from above me. It washed me from head to toe, inside and out, and I heard a voice say: ‘Go to church.’ This time I knew it was Jesus. In an instant, he had changed me. Jesus had been preparing me for the moment when I would believe.
Next morning, I told George I was going to church. He was astonished. I only knew the times of the Salvation Army meetings, so I went there, receiving Jesus as my Lord and Saviour. George eventually followed, making his own decision for Christ. I won the darts title the next year but by then it paled to insignificance compared with living for God.
Over the years, I’ve attended a number of churches, but last year I returned to The Salvation Army and was enrolled as a soldier. I’m so grateful to God for his kindness, faithfulness and patience
in my life.
by Maureen Quennel (c) 'War Cry' magazine, 4 November 2017, p11
You can read 'War Cry' at your nearest Salvation Army church or centre, or subscribe through Salvationist Resources.