In A Moment.
This I believe that I am the person I am today because of the choices I made yesterday and God’s mercy is big enough for the worst of them.
Once upon a time I was a girl who used to look at the world and the people in it with pure innocence. I was married to a wonderful husband and the mother of two adorable little boys- everything was a-ok. I was also a member of a small, but Christ-centered church. I was a model citizen; God was sure glad to have me in His corner. In self-righteous eyes, I would gasp at the sins of others not realizing that I was about to take a road that led straight to hell.
All it takes is one moment, one choice, to change the very core of who you are. I went from someone I once respected to someone I barely knew. One taste became my undoing- I was hooked. I will not reveal the “drug” I was on, only to say it’s not the ones you can buy. Even though, I was as hooked as the meth addicts you read about in the paper. Whatever it took, I needed more. And more. All this I did while still sitting in a pew every Sunday. Playing the part. Going through the motions; being the good girl everyone thought I was. All the while screaming for someone to help me- to give me better directions, a rope to pull me out of this hole I had dug myself. At this point my hands were bleeding and I needed someone to clean me up and make me whole again.
Then I met Him. The Him I thought I knew all the years when I was a good church girl. He set a ladder in the hole I was in and said, “Climb.” “I don’t feel like climbing,” I yelled in anger and rebellion. “Climb,” he repeated. We continued this argument until out of frustration I climbed the first rung and the second, and then the eighth. This hell was so deep and I was certain I would never reach the top. Some days I was so tired I didn’t climb at all, but He was still there waiting and the closer I got the louder I heard the word, “Climb.” Once I made it to the top He was there with a sad smile on His face. He looked at my hands, bloody and dirty from clawing at the dirt in that self-inflicted hole and a tear trickled down His cheek- He knew how I felt His hands had been bloody before too. He cleaned them up and whispered, “Keep climbing, Linda.” I am.
If you enjoyed this essay, please consider making a tax-deductible contribution to This I Believe, Inc.