RURAL DRUG ADDICTS FIND RELIEF IN RELIGION

MANCHESTER - If he wasn't at rock bottom, Steve Collett wasn't far from it,
shivering inside a portable toilet that served as his shelter on a cold
winter's night.

Fresh out of jail with nowhere else to go, Collett started praying to
Jesus, seeking help from the shambles he had made of his life because of
drugs and crime. When daylight arrived, Collett stepped out of that plastic
privy into a new day, having made peace and vowing never to return to his
old ways.

Such stories of repentance are being repeated across the heart of
Appalachia, where church leaders say communities rife with drugs are
uniting behind a spiritual solution and sheer despair is forcing addicts to
seek help from a higher power.

"We're right in the middle of a regional transformation," said Doug Abner,
pastor of Community Church in Manchester, which ministers to people who
have been caught up in the drug trade. "Obviously, if you're a Christian,
you believe God can transform a person. We really believe God can transform
a community, a city, a county, a region."

The mountain scourge of drug abuse -- most notably homemade methamphetamine
and prescription painkillers such as OxyContin -- has caused an assortment
of societal problems, from broken marriages to escalating crime. Drug
abusers are robbing pharmacies, burglarizing homes and starting
prostitution rings to finance their habits.

In the midst of all this, some churches are seeing exponential growth.

Attendance at Northside Baptist Church in rural Rockcastle County has grown
from 40 to more than 400 over the past three years. And the Kentucky
Baptist Convention reported 2,000 people in the Harlan County cities of
Cumberland, Benham and Lynch have experienced religious conversions in the
past three years.

Five new churches have opened in eastern Harlan County, and a ministry
providing food and clothing to the poor is operating out of building that
had formerly housed a bar.

"I've been in ministry more than 40 years, and I've never seen a movement
of God in one community such as it is there," said Larry Martin, a retired
mission leader for the Kentucky Baptist Convention.

Kenneth Collins, a professor of church history at Asbury Seminary in
Wilmore, said that, as ironic as it sounds, the same force that drove
people away from God is now having a hand in driving them back -- drugs.

"I think that makes perfect sense, that when you have that kind of serious
problem that the appeal of faith in Jesus Christ becomes more poignant,"
Col-lins said. "Revivalist preachers have claimed that faith in Jesus
Christ delivers, breaks the powers of bondage, of oppression. So if you
have people who are caught in the throes of drug addiction, Christian faith
for them can be enormously liberating."

Manchester's Abner said he believes the spiritual revival was triggered by
churches that had become so concerned for the communities they serve that
they began joining forces to try to bring change.

"The churches hadn't really worked together before," he said. "We all had
our own little agendas. We had built nice buildings with stained-glass
windows and we have hidden behind them while the world around us has gotten
worse and worse."

Then, with addicts everywhere, and crimes such as robbery and burglary on
the rise in formerly quiet neighborhoods, church leaders issued a call to
action, bringing denominations together on a single issue. Never mind that
they disagreed on some theological issues. They agreed drugs were bad.

"We've started praying for each other," Abner said. "We've started helping
each other. And people without Christ are looking at the church and seeing
a bunch of folks who are working together instead of talking about each
other and fighting each other, and they're being drawn to the light. It's
exciting.

"We're making a difference where we haven't made a difference much in the
past."

Abner said the drug epidemic was the catalyst that spurred the churches to
reach out.

"I don't know that we would have ever come together if we didn't have a
common problem to deal with," he said. "And it is severe. There's probably
not a handful of families not touched by the drug problem."

Churches throughout the region now have started programs to help addicts
kick their drug habits, creating treatment centers, opening their Sunday
school rooms for Narcotics Anonymous meetings, and extending a hand to
people in need. And they're opening their pulpits to former addicts to
share their stories.

"It's a new day," Abner said.

Reformed addicts are a part of the effort in nearly every community. Often,
they're more effective at reaching their friends and families than
professional clergy.

A little more than a year ago, Collett was the only Christian in his
family. Now his wife, brothers and sister are Christians.

And Collett doesn't even look like the same man. He's clean cut, well
dressed, and wears a beaming white smile, thanks to an oral surgeon who
replaced a mouthful of rotted teeth, the result of methamphetamine abuse.