My feelings about not knowing what to do next came to a halt one day as I was talking to one of my customers. She had been searching for a business opportunity to invest in. She had $3,000, and my first thought was, how about a fingernail business? I felt it was time to give the biggest nail salon in town some honest competition.

I knew I was good at nails and knew people liked me. I had a little bit of faith—based on what I knew faith was. I believed nothing was impossible. I had a daily devotional and $3,000; what more could I possibly ask for? Consequences? What were those? This was the open door I was looking for, and I was not about to let it pass me by.

I leased a place, had flyers printed up, paid the first month’s rent, and I was in business. I had not even bothered to think far enough ahead to concern myself about the following month’s rent. Wasn’t that what faith was for—what I read about in my daily devotional? The nail tables were designed from cinder blocks that were spray painted, stenciled, and finished with glass tops. My sister stenciled around the inside of the shop with purple, aqua, and cream so that everything coordinated. I had a sign printed up in the same colors and was able to rent purple chairs and reception furniture. By the time I opened the front door, I only had $88.29 left, which I kept in a gray metal box that functioned as my cash register. I had no credit cards or any other safety net to fall back on if needed, but I was determined to make it work.

I wanted to do something for God because I believed he brought me through shock treatments with flying colors, giving me a second chance at life. I had started believing, through the daily devotional I carried, he was a somewhat touchable God and was intervening in my life. I wanted to believe in him so badly, so I just chose to believe he was real and that he was guiding me. There wasn’t a Magic Eight Ball, a Ouija board, or even a Psychic Network involved in the decision for this business. I really felt it was God leading me to do this.

I called the shop Get Nailed. Jesus got nailed on the cross. I couldn’t call it Got Nailed, because that didn’t make any sense, so Get Nailed was born. I heard varying comments from, “Great, neat name!” to snickers about sexual innuendo, but everyone loved it. For me, it became an automatic witness of God.

It wasn’t as though I was going to be talking about God to others because I knew how I felt about people who had pounded me over the head with Jesus. I didn’t want to run people off.

I started to take note of others’ reactions to God. I didn’t know how far I would step out for Jesus yet, knowing that I could be labeled a Jesus freak. I also felt my family would laugh at me for loving God so much, but in my heart, I knew he was more than I had ever known. I didn’t know what it was all about yet, but I knew I was going to try to do things God’s way.

This shop was the first time I said the name of Jesus out loud without being in a church. I mean, this was the public, not a sanctuary. You know—the separation of church, state, and definitely business! I recall looking sheepishly around to see people’s reactions one day when I said his name out loud. I didn’t know what would happen. Maybe they would come after me—send a lynch mob and burn me at the stake. I was always so concerned about what others thought of me and was relieved when no one got a torch.

I had to work long hours, and my family suggested I move in with them until the first year was up so I could see where the business was going. I followed their advice, and Dara and I both moved again, only this time, we didn’t move together.

              There was no extra room for Dara at my sister’s house, so she moved in with her grandparents. I hated it for her, but I felt that if I could just get this business up and running, I could provide for her properly and get us settled for good. I told her that this business was for us and that it would be better in the long run if I could devote all of my time there for right now. I knew she would be well taken care of at her grandparents’ house, and I made her a solemn promise that by Christmas, which was five months away, we would be together again.

              I knew I was going to conduct business with the utmost integrity, believing God was watching. I used the Cadillac of nail products, the best sanitation available, and had prices everyone could afford. I was all about giving people the best I had to offer and treated everyone exactly the same—rich or poor. I had learned as a child the scripture, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” and it would always flood back into my mind.

              I worked ten to eleven hours a day, six days a week. Get Nailed taught me many things, but one of the biggest things I learned along the way was what I was truly made of. I had always told people I was just as tough as any two men put together, and now I was able to prove it to myself. I was not lazy and walked uprightly in my business dealings. For the first time, I was proud of myself for the effort. I slept better than I had in years, knowing that every day I put in a full day’s work and strived for something better for Dara and me, but was it God’s will that I wasn’t spending any time with her?

I was constantly listening to what was going on in customers’ lives, and that included knowing every problem they had. I began counseling—the student has become the teacher!—people in all aspects of their lives. I would talk to them about their marriages, female problems, children, money, investments, medication, depression, and everything else.

Occasionally there would be as many as four or five women sitting around in a circle while I manicured someone’s nails. I also became a great entertainer, and we decided that this needed to be a TV show. We would laugh and laugh. It made the hours not seem so long, and we solved many personal and a few world issues at Get Nailed.

I was going to keep my promise to Dara if it killed me, so I moved us into another apartment by Christmas. Having us back together again made us both feel better, even though I was never at home.

My brother had moved up from Florida just in time to help me when the shop first opened and was kind enough to help take care of Dara while I worked. I supported us all, but the business didn’t seem to be going anywhere. I was literally killing myself by working as long and hard as I could.

Another drawback to having the shop was that nobody wanted anybody but me to do their nails. I had a couple of girls come in and try to work there, but honestly, the customers just preferred me. Here I was in a storefront building with a lease, and it was up to me to make it a success. Failure was not an option. I recall someone wanting to come in for a nail appointment at 10:00 p.m. one night because that was the only time I had open. I never dreamed anyone would actually come that hour of the night to have fingernails done, but she did. My mother called one night around 10:00 p.m. to check on me and said, “Molly, please tell me you still aren’t there.”

Then a light bulb went off in my head. I had become friends with a customer who wanted to be part owner in a business. She stated she would even like to quit her job and come and help me do nails for a living. Why not this one?  I had confided in her the ongoing problem I was facing with the original investor I had who had become such an annoyance that I had to stop answering her calls. From the beginning, I had sent her monthly checks to pay back what I owed her, but she didn’t seem to understand she wasn’t going to get it all back at once and in the timeframe she wanted.

I continued to confide in her that I faced the decision of closing the shop or keeping it open for another year to see what would take place. I had always heard it takes at least a year, if not two, to determine if a business was going to succeed or not. What if I closed it too early? If I decided to take on this new partner, I could pay the original one back her full investment. I believed the new investor was going to work with me as well, so that gave me hope that Get Nailed could actually  succeed. I liked her, she seemed trustworthy, and she loved God, so I took the money she offered and signed the lease for one more year.

           Then several months into the new lease, I realized that the new partner would not be coming to work with me. My dreams were dashed and once again, I was left to run a storefront business alone.  I became very down in my heart and needed something or someone to tell me what to do. Was I always going to need major help? I was around other people who didn’t seem to be so needy.

It was late one night and I was sitting at home on my couch, which also doubled as my bed. (My brother had a bedroom, and my daughter had a bedroom in the apartment where we lived.) I grabbed the only Bible I had, that had been given to me by The First Presbyterian church of St. Albans, West Virginia. It had hardly been used through the years, but that night I opened it up. I was working hard, long hours and seemed to be going nowhere. I turned to the part in this old bible where it talked about Jesus and his crucifixion. I looked up to heaven and said, “I really don’t get all the ‘thees’ and ‘thous.’ I would like to, but I just don’t get it.” Tears were streaming down my face. I continued, “I need your help.”

Three nights later, my older brother walked in and said, “God told me to buy you this book.” It was a student NIV Bible. The way it was written was simple and clear, just like my daily devotional was. I actually started to understand the words on the pages which had seemed so foreign to me. I didn’t know there was such a simple Bible. That gesture was really nice, but how was that going to help me out of the situation I was in?