I'll share a quick story that happened to me over this past summer. I woke up one morning after another night of destruction. Gazing out my blacony across the ninth hole of the golf course that lay in front of my place was a foursome looking up towards the sky. There conversation seemed tense to me, as if something was wrong. I gathered myself and stumbled out my door and down the stairs. Folllowing the path around the corner I noticed there was no one else around and the golfers had continued their round. Cars were absent from their assigned spots and traffic was non-existant. A rational mind would have simply figured it was mid-morning on a weekday, and people were at work, school, or admist their daily routines. But my mind, having recently been polluted by alcohol and drugs, came to the conclusion that the rapture had come. This was it. The end. I had been left behind. With this I rushed to my keys and back down to my truck. I called my brother, "Marc where are you man?! The world is ending bro! GET IN YOUR CAR and GATHER the kids!". Convinced this was really happening I continued to plead with him, "Its just you and I bro....hurry..we need to get to safety before sh*t really gets heavy!". I must have called my mom at some point before this because next thing I knew I was shoving her aside, desperate to get my truck going... her arms embraced around me...begging and pleading....frantic and wet with tears.... Soon she became a blur in my rear view mirror as I jolted around the corner, leaving her in the thickness of diesel exhaust and hopelessness..despair, worry, and pain...so much pain. Two miles down the road I managed to run out out of gas. I deciced it was best to leave "big blue", my truck, as I like to call her, smack in the middle of the road. Abandoned. "What next Matthew...where should I go..how did this happen!? Me? Left behind???" I thought. Grabbing a large stick from the ground I strided forward, destination unknown. A picture for you: here I am, parading down 48th St. still dirty from the night before, holes in my clothes and dirt on my face. A large staff made of wood in hand for protection against whoever may attack, fearful others would soon be finding out the bad news and panic as I was..... I made it back to my apt and down the street to Burger King. At some point during my three mile walk back to my place I must have finally realized the world wasn't ending. Staring out the window of BK I noticed a sea foam green corrolla parked across the way. My mom. This upset me. How dare she follow me?! The audacity for her to still care about me after my episode! I was going to gake care of this and really give it to her. Maybe, just maybe, she'll finally give up. Maybe she'll finally release me to relish completly in this life of hell I was living, literally. "Would this woman finally stop caring..stop loving...just let me be... give up already!" Of course not... she met me still with open arms, lovingly. "Now look, here comes my friend and mentor around the corner to help as well....DAMN you God! Can't you see I'm trying to kill myself here!" The police followed as well.... this story ends with the kindness of the Phoenix police department giving me an option: jail or the VA hospital. That was an easy choice...the hospital. The hospital. The fifth floor. The pysch ward. The hospital I would later check myself out of. Check myself out and find ways to lie to myself that anything had happened.
That was one day of many. One day that had begun months and years before. Looking back now, I can laugh. I find joy in that story. You see, my story is of deliverance. If I had not found the depths of hell I did I would never have realized how much I needed a deliverer. I HAD to hit "rock bottom". I had to realize how much I needed more. I had to reach my ropes end. And while I was pulling on that rope with all my might...when I reached the end and grasped for that last inch, that last thread.... a hand was there. Waiting. That hand that had been there the whole time, waiting, saying "Let me help you my beloved."
And that same hand that was there at the end of the rope is the same one that was strong enough to pull me out of that deep, dark, lonely pit. And when I asked to be buried- he shoved aside the enemy who held not just a shovel, but was ready with a bulldozer, and said "I am your God and have called you by name. You whom I love". And that road to nowhere... that road now leads to eternity and infinite love. The flower without water...that flower now blooms with the most awesome of colors. It was a simple invitation. Three words, "take my hand".
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