Letting Myself Live

Before I met the One who gave His life, I was trying to end mine.

No matter any reason I can think of, the source of my desire to die was that I had no hope. I always felt that there was nothing better yet to come. My childhood and up-bringing did more than it's share of damage to my heart and that damage quickly turned into the reason for my behavior. All throughout my last year of middle school and into high school, I sought to be fulfilled by friends, drinking, and drugs. I didn't care about school, I barely had relationships with my family, and I had no purpose in life or desire to find a purpose. Thus, the beginning of my high school career is a memory of cheap thrills and pointless wandering.

It wasn't until rock bottom was in sight that I opened up to the idea that perhaps there's more to life than waiting for it to end.

Now that I'm living life in preparation for eternity, I have that hope I was searching for tucked away in my heart of hearts.

I witnessed a small blossoming bud of that hope in my mother, first. I watched from a distance as my mother began her walk with Christ and seeing the changes in her life gave me hope that I myself didn't have to continue down a path of self-destruction and depression. I agreed to attend church with my parents one Sunday and my own little world opened up and welcomed in the world of faithful, loving Christians who taught and guided me and ultimately led me to the person of Jesus Christ, who in Him, my heart finally found a place to call home and receive a purpose to keep beating.

I am proof of better things yet to come, and now I am in no rush to die, but when that time does come, I will reside forever in heaven with the Creator of my soul.