DIVINE INTERVENTION SAVES SOME, ADDICTS SAY - DAY 5E

A year ago, Manuel Salazar grabbed a bag of methamphetamine as he
packed for a trip from San Jose to Palm Springs. He slid a needle
under his skin, then tucked a couple of syringes into a pocket.

"I was lost," he said. "I went to Palm Springs to get loaded and (hang
out) . . . with a girl."

But the Lord interrupted his plans to party in the desert,
Salazar said. Like many recovering addicts, he says God saved him from
addiction.

"I didn't have plans to straighten up my life. I was slamming crank,"
Salazar, 41, said. "Jesus Christ caught me when I wasn't looking. He
loved me when I wasn't worthy. He made me his when I didn't deserve
it."

Meth had been Salazar's drug of choice since he was 30. Before then,
Salazar said, he had spent most of his adult life in prison because of
cocaine, PCP and gang-banging. The list of prisons includes San
Quentin, Soledad, Folsom and Tehachapi.

Salvation and sobriety began at a Victory Outreach church in
Anaheim.

The Christian organization helps people fight addiction, homelessness
and other problems at churches and men's homes across the United
States. In the Inland area, Victory Outreach has congregations in San
Bernardino, Indio and Fontana.

When Salazar arrived in Palm Springs, his friend saw he needed help.
She called Victory Outreach and found out about its church in Anaheim,
he said.

The group's homes lead addicts to Jesus through prayer and reading the
Bible, Salazar said. Residents pray even when they don't feel like
praying, he said. They cook, clean and work at various jobs that help
support operations.

"Jesus Christ put determination in my heart," he said. Now, Salazar
screens and interviews men looking for help at a Victory Outreach
facility in Kansas City, Kan.

Juan Padron of Des Moines, Iowa, also credits Victory Outreach with
saving his life. Pastor Terry Pauley recalls talking to Padron on the
street in Des Moines and encouraging him to attend the church.

Padron's meth use started when he was offered it by friends bringing
the drug from California. He snorted meth so often his nose sometimes
bled for more than a week. Once, Padron said, he almost bled to death.

About a year ago, Padron was living in a garage behind an abandoned
house. One freezing night he could not sleep, too frightened by
hallucinations of shapes that kept peering at him from the blackness.
"The shadows were just looking at me, looking at me," he said.

Hobbled by recent knee surgery, Padron walked more than two miles to
the Victory Outreach church. Until that night, Padron said, he wasn't
ready to leave drugs behind.

"God opened my eyes," he said.