If Beit T’Shuvah had a beating heart, it would surely bear the name Susan Reneau. For the past 25 years, she’s been the quiet force holding the community together, embodying grace, resilience, and an unshakable dedication to the mission of love and recovery. Susan’s presence isn’t loud or flashy—it’s maternal, steadfast, and irreplaceable. In a place filled with stories of transformation, hers is one of unwavering nurture and devotion.
Susan’s life has always been one of giving. From her earliest days in Westchester County, New York, her role as the middle child to two brothers she adored taught her the power of unconditional love. Her father, a proud and warm-hearted Jewish man, and her Christian mother provided her with a rich life of faith and values. While a proud Christian, having parents of differing religions left Susan with a unique ability to bridge divides and find beauty in differences. “I felt like they are these tapestries—gorgeous, wonderful, amazing tapestries—and I’m the laces that hold them together.” That poetic truth resonates in everything she does.
Music and curiosity defined her youth. A perfectionist to her core, Susan tackled every challenge with diligence, from playing the flute in school to excelling in her studies to ballet. Yet, her nurturing spirit was always at the forefront. Whether it was tutoring struggling classmates or becoming a primary caregiver for a quadriplegic teenager, Susan seemed to find her deepest purpose in serving others.
Susan’s journey eventually brought her to North Carolina, where she studied music and French at Meredith College. While there, she grappled with cultural shock and the challenge of carving her own path in a foreign environment. Music remained her anchor, and her studies offered a refuge for her ever-curious mind. Yet, even as she excelled, she often wrestled with questions about her purpose and identity.
Life after college was a whirlwind of uncertainty. From joining the Unification Church for six years to working as a caretaker for a young disabled girl who had been in a car accident. The connection they formed was incredibly meaningful and Susan’s supportive nature surfaced in spades during this period. Susan’s path was anything but linear. One day, while lying in a pew, she heard a man playing piano—missing an important chord in “Ode to Joy.” She popped up and showed the man, who had only ever played by ear, what the chord was. His peculiar charm complemented her own and before long they were married. Together, they built a life in North Carolina. They had two beautiful children and eventually brought that life to Los Angeles in pursuit of new opportunities.
As a mother of two—a son and a non-binary child—Susan’s journey has been marked by love, patience, and profound faith. When her child came out as non-binary, Susan wrestled with her beliefs but ultimately found peace in trusting God and her child’s journey. “[If God] made them that way, isn’t it okay for them to be that way?”
After being laid off from a job at a church that she loved, Susan felt lost. A temp agency suggested she work at a rehab—Susan didn’t even believe addiction was real at the time…but trust me that tune has changed. That’s how, in 1999 she found herself at Beit T’Shuvah. That’s right. This month marks 25 years of Susan working for Beit T’Shuvah—making her the second longest-standing employee. Originally hired as a temp, Susan’s warmth and dedication quickly earned her a permanent place in the community. Over the years, she has become far more than a secretary (that word doesn’t come close to describing what she does here). She’s the glue that binds, the caretaker who remembers birthdays, the quiet presence that ensures no one feels unseen. “I make a ministry out of what I do,” Susan says with her signature humility. Yet, her colleagues see her as much more: a maternal figure, a guiding light, a cornerstone of Beit T’Shuvah’s soul.
Why has Susan stayed at Beit T’Shuvah for a quarter of a century? The answer is simple: love. “You fall in love with people,” she says. “And when you do, there’s no reason to leave.” Her commitment is more than professional; it’s deeply personal. “We are a bunch of broken people trying to help other broken people…just doing our darndest!” Susan believes in Beit T’Shuvah’s mission to fight the lies of addiction and replace them with truth and connection. Her work, she says, is not just about tasks but about creating a circle of inclusion where no one feels left out. She even feels that she has grown immensely since arriving here.
As one of the only non-addict Christians working at Beit T’Shuvah, Susan has always been somewhat of an anomaly. Although, she will tell you, “I have learned more about Christianity from here, through learning about my Jewish roots. You don’t get this kind of learning in a church!” Something Susan’s colleagues will tell you is: she’s irreplaceable. Her attention to detail, empathy, and deep faith create a foundation upon which others can grow. In Susan’s words, “I’m just a puff of smoke inside a suit of armor,” but to Beit T’Shuvah, she’s the spirit that keeps the community alive. When Susan isn’t here, this place downright falls apart.
As she reflects on her journey, Susan remains humble and grateful. “I’ve been treated like family here.” But anyone who knows Susan knows the truth: she is family. Susan is one of love, service, and the enduring power of an embracing heart.
Susan, you are truly the oil that keeps the gears turning, the strength that helps us all stand tall…the laces that hold the tapestries of this community together. In the chaos of recovery, having you as a constant gives us all hope. Thank you for everything you do. Thank you for turning this House of Return into a home for us all. Thank you for the last 25 years working for Beit T’Shuvah. Here’s to 25 more!