The sanctuary faded, the music dissipated as I let go. Lifeless and dead my body hung in nothing.
Water engulfed me in a canyon I had been wandering. As it filled, the walls suddenly were around me, encasing me. I realized I was in a coffin but not of human design.
A cross appeared before me. Blood flowed down from it toward the coffin. As it met the casket water began to bubble out of my heart, filling the coffin. Fighting to hold my breath a peace passed over me and I opened my mouth. Down my throat the water began to fill me from my toes to the top of my head. The water sparkled and danced in my eyes. Life filled me, making me a part of it. Peace settled over me as I breathed deep. My skin tingled with joy. I was alive again.
Suddenly the casket was gone and I hung in the water again. I felt in a canyon. However, as walls appeared they were of a purer texture. No longer crude the sides smoothed and curved in a natural and pristine way.
I found myself in a white area. Though it felt like a room I could see no walls or ceiling, just the floor beneath me. A figure approached, bent over and embraced me. Loves arms rested gently on me soothing old scars and healing recent wounds. Like changing a garment the skin was shed and replaced anew.
Tears streaming down my face the figure pulled back and a face of love filled my vision. I couldn’t tell you what his face looked like for the love poured out of his eyes not his features. He stood and extended his hand offering me help to stand. I grabbed His feet feeling unworthy but He bent down, smiled and hugged me again. An eternity passed in His embrace. Slowly he released me and gripped my hand and pulled me to my feet. He put his arm around me and gestured to an unseen being saying, “Daddy look who’s come home.”
Surrounded by three beings but feeling one Spirit, one nature I fell to my knees. Purpose strengthened me, fulfillment enabled me and I felt whole in their/His presence. Voicelessly I praised and worshiped my redeemer, healer, lover, Savior, ruler and creator.
Then a baby appeared before me. In my arms I studied it wondering what to do with it. As I lifted it I brought it to my chest and the baby became a part of me.
I wept as I buried my face in my hands breathing in gratitude, unspeakable gratitude, for the birth of a new creation within me. I sat up and found myself in a meadow. Stars glistened above and a soft, cool breeze swayed the pine trees nearby. Grass cushioned me and the trickle of a nearby stream comforted me like a warm blanket. Looking up into the night the soft glow of the moon dispelled the darkness and I felt free.
I closed my eyes and my lips spoke a prayer of thanksgiving but my ears did not understand. Music filled my ears. I opened my eyes to find I was back in the sanctuary.
Now you may be asking what all this means. Well come with me as I take you back several years.
My dad, a few inches taller than me, looked down at me. Though I could feel his presence and hear his words, the walls of my grandmother’s office, my hideaway for the past few weeks, pinned me in and a rushing in my ears fills my memory of when I sold him my silver collection. I needed the money. Wasn’t sure for what but if I wasn’t to do what he was asking me to do, I was going to need it as I loaded myself down with a backpack, fanny pack and other odds and ends and walked out into the night.
It was after midnight. Snow covered the ground and ice crunched under my feet as I began walking the streets of my home town. My direction was south. Wasn’t sure where I was going but that didn’t matter as I was focused on the song repeating over and over in my head phones.
“The darkness laughs as the wounds destroy and your prayers turn to noise,” reverberated through me as I reflected over the past few years.
At my High school graduation I stood up and gave a speech about where I was going and what I was going to do: College, Ministry and family. But now a year and half later I am walking away from my family with the scars I got in college and over the past few weeks up and down my fore-arms itching from the cold air. The events of the past six years replayed over and over in my head like a bad dream.
The words in my ears expressed how I felt.
“You are waiting on a beach/ for a healing word to come/Maybe an apology in a bottle/or a flare that says I’m sorry/ but the hurting leaves you numb.”
These words reflected how I felt about myself from events when I was 12; my grandparents divorcing when I was 15 and I became my grandmothers body guard against my own granddad; and my friend molesting my sister, all the while my friend’s family and friends blamed us for his deeds.
After over an hour of walking I look up to see the overpass and interstate heading south a few hundred yards down the road. With the unknown before me I stopped. Words and events filled my head. I began to shake but not from the cold. My head began to hurt but not with a headache.
Then I heard the words:
“Will you forgive? Will you forget? Will you live what you know? / Beneath the cross You hear His words, “Father, forgive them,”/And you know You can’t understand it Let it go…just let it go, just let it go, just let it go…”
The song ended and the silence of the night drowned out the noise. I turned and looked back, then ahead again. Standing there I saw two choices: go back or go on.
What I didn’t realize at the time was two other options I was overlooking: to either let go and forgive or hang on and hate.
In the end I turned and walked back. Even though I may have felt nervous and humbled talking to my dad, I felt safe in the setting of my grandmother’s house and at ease in the presence of familiar faces.
However because of my blindness or oversight, I am not sure which, maybe both, over the next few years I suffered, as did my family: being admitted into a hospital for psyche evaluation and suicide watch, one attempt of suicide by overdosing with over 300 pills, lashing out and isolating myself from those who loved me. I eventually found myself homeless, bloody and confused. Having forgotten why I was so angry and filled with bitterness.
…continued at http://redeemedfromthepitofsuicide.blogspot.com/