Maria, second from back, helped plan a cultural day at Indiana Central Spanish Church. Her daughters, Jayla, (front left) and Alexis (front center) marched with the flag of Puerto Rico. Photography by Christa McConnell.
Debbie Michel, Mario Zeno
November 4, 2025For most of my life, church had been something forced on me. As a kid I sat through long services with no children’s programs. “Why do I have to go?” I’d wonder to myself while staring at the wall. By the time I was a teenager, I’d had enough. This is not for me, I thought. I’m good. I’m going to do what I want to do.
I later moved from Indianapolis to Miami and continued my career as a nurse. That’s where I met the man who would eventually become my husband. At the time, we were just starting out, figuring out life. We built a blended family—my two children and his three—but it would be years later, after returning to Indianapolis, that we finally stood together and made our marriage official.
Before that, though, my parents’ health began to decline. My mom showed the first signs of dementia. My husband said, “We need to go to Indiana. We need to take care of your parents.”
“Indiana? From sunny Florida?” I cried and shook my head. “I don’t want to go.”
But deep down, I knew he was right.
What followed was the hardest season of my life. My mom passed away in January 2024. Six months later my dad was gone, too. They had been married 69 years, and he just didn’t want to live without her. I was their hospice nurse, and I watched my dad’s final days up close. Grief piled on grief.
Then came the breaking point—my husband was arrested. I remember sitting alone, thinking there’s literally no one in my family who can help me. What am I going to do? Who do I have? My voice cracked as I cried out in my empty living room: God, I need You.
That Sabbath, Aug. 2, 2025, I walked into Indianapolis Central Seventh-day Adventist Church for the first time. I didn’t know what to expect. What I found was peace. A woman I’d never met hugged me and said, “Don’t worry, we got you.”
It was like someone had lifted a weight off my chest. The peace I felt was indescribable. Every day after that, people from the church called to check in. A simple “How are you?” felt like a lifeline. One lady startled me the first time she spoke: Her voice sounded exactly like my mom’s. It was as if God was reminding me that I wasn’t alone.
As I kept going to church, I realized I couldn’t wait any longer. They announced there would be baptisms Aug. 30 at the Indiana Conference Hispanic family camp meeting. I told the leaders, “I’m ready. I just need God in my life. I don’t need anything else but this.”
The day came, and just as I was stepping forward for baptism, Jayla, my 13-year-old daughter, surprised me. “Mom,” she whispered, “I need a fresh start, too. I want to change my life.”
I froze. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
That day, we were baptized together. A few weeks later, Alexis, my 16-year-old, followed. We told my husband on the phone, “You’re the last one. We saved the best for last.”
Even in jail, he hadn’t wasted the time. “I’ve preached to more than 30 guys in here,” he told me. “We started a Bible study group.”
Was it ideal? No. But was God using it? Absolutely.
Now my life revolves around church almost every day of the week. Tuesdays my girls have Bible study. Wednesdays and Thursdays are prayer meetings. Fridays we welcome the Sabbath. Saturday is worship, and Sundays often bring fellowship with church friends. It’s constant, and it’s what my soul needs.
I’ve joined a small group, I’m helping lead this big International Day celebration, and I hope to serve as a deaconess and sing in the choir at Christmas. I wake up with joy now. My daughters tell me, “Mom, you’re different. You smile more. You laugh. We see the sparkle in your eye.”
I know the devil still tries to put barriers in my way. But I also know God’s timing is perfect. He knew what it would take to bring us back. And now God and church isn’t just part of our life.
It is our life.
Maria Zeno, as told to Debbie Michel
Editor’s Note: As we welcome Maria and her daughters Jayla and Alexis to the Seventh-day Adventist Church, let’s remember to keep them in prayer. Maria’s husband, Jose, is the one who first introduced them to the Adventist church and is planning to rejoin the family in the faith upon his imminent release.
