There
should be a funeral for dead marriages. There isn't.
At
first the rain fell softly outside my bedroom window. Soon it increased in
intensity. What began as a light mist quickly turned into a torrential
downpour. The closed blinds could not shut out the lightning bolts that pierced
the darkness. Thunder rocked my already frayed nerves that kept me up most of
the night. Light finally arrived but the rain continued to pound relentlessly.
I
dressed and ran out the door. I didn't know where I was going. Part of me
believed I would never return. I wanted to run away from everything—life; Tim, my
husband; the future, the past, the present—mostly I wanted to run away from
myself. I wandered down the street through the pouring rain soaking through my
clothes. I was a bad wife, I
convinced myself, and deserved to be punished
and sentenced to a life of misery. I walked around a fenced-in retention
pond and headed down a pathway into the woods. I was ready to end my life of
thirty years—a life that I saw no value in—wasted.
“God,
why have you abandoned me,” I cried out. “Where are you?”
Lightning
imprinted and disappeared across the angry sky. I felt fearful and fearless, in
control of my thoughts, but my emotions spun out of control.
A
stream bordering the woods near my house caught my eye. I approached the crest
of the hill and was surprised to see it rambling on in the distance; I climbed
down the slippery slope as raindrops seeped into my cold, waterlogged clothes.
As
the rain fell harder, the sides of the creek turned to mud. I lost my balance
and stumbled down the embankment as the cold water oozed into my shoes and
socks. I smeared the slimy mess over my arms, legs, face, and into my blonde
hair. The smell of the rancid water sickened me. I continued to cry out to a
God I wasn't sure I believed in anymore, but if He did exist, I was angry with
Him.
“Where
are you?” I cried out. “Why don't you save my marriage?”
Over
the seven years of marriage, I had kept my faith hidden because Tim couldn’t or
wouldn’t relate to that part of me. If anything, he had belittled my search for
understanding of the deeper things in the Bible, much like others had bullied
me as a child. Anything from the Bible always stirred up controversy. I dragged
Tim to church despite his protests because it was too hard to go alone. All Tim’s
promises of a wonderful life as a doctor’s wife and supporting me so I could
return to school had vanished—the way of
everything else in the marriage.
The
religion classes I took at Santa Fe State College had given me an academic
understanding of the Bible, but not the kind of heart knowledge that reached
down into my soul. With the resignation of the pastor a few weeks earlier at
the church we attended occasionally, Tim vowed never to go back. Rejected and feeling
unloved, I’d given up.
The
limestone from the muddy creek burned my eyes and scratched my skin. How many
creepy, crawly things filled the water that now covered by body? I rolled over
and stared up at the darkened, gray sky. Is this all there was? Was there
nothing more to live for?
As
dirty as I felt, it wasn't enough. There had to be something more I could do to
become the ugly, dirty, unloved person that I was. I climbed out of the creek and
headed back to the house. The rain had let up but not the seething pain that
lashed out at me. When I returned to the house, I washed off the dirt in the
shower knowing I had not accomplished what I wanted.
Then
I remembered the pills in the medicine cabinet. I tried to dismiss the thought
but I couldn't. I wanted my torment to end. Rejection consumed me. I longed to
be loved, held, and needed. I felt like God had abandoned me. The lies were
deafening.
I
opened the medicine cabinet and searched for pills—anything I could find. I
pulled out several bottles—an assortment of Tylenol, Bayer, and other things
accumulated during our marriage. Not concerned with what they were, I opened
each bottle and threw the contents on the table.
I
sat for a long time staring at the scattered pills that threatened to end my
life. They spoke my name, called out to me, and taunted me. I was in a trance. I
took them and made a face—my face, with a mouth contorted into an upside‑down
smile. Nobody could hurt me anymore. I took pleasure in the fact that the last
act in my life was mine, not something somebody did to me.
As
I reached for the pills, I was stopped by something far bigger than myself. A
voice spoke to my heart out of the recesses of time and space, a word‑thought
that was not of this world. It was not an audible voice, but it was as real to
me as if it had been.
I
saw myself standing in front of Jesus, outside the gates of heaven. He was
waiting for me. From his lips came a question I had no answer to.
“Lori,
how can you do this thing when I died for you two thousand years ago? How can
you throw your precious life away?”
I
stopped. The words were said in a gentle, pleading tone, spoken in a language I
understood. I was in the presence of Goodness, even as I sensed a spiritual war
waging in the unseen world around me. I felt fallen angels battling against the
armies of God.
Demonic
beings wanted my soul and unseemly forces beckoned, “Take the pills and end
your suffering. You belong to us. Nothing in the world of light will ever
change you because you are unlovable.”
Evil is relentless, especially
when it thinks it can win. The clamor would have been deafening if my earthly
ears could have heard it, but the battle belongs to the Lord. He knows His own
and I was His. The choice was mine, though, to choose life over death. God's
unconditional love lets us choose who we will follow, a love that does not
condemn or control. Would I allow love to conquer hate or would deception
convince me that despair was the only answer? Could I accept forgiveness as the
path to freedom? Did I believe Jesus loved me, would never leave me, and had
forgiven me?
I
closed my eyes and prayed for deliverance from the darkness.
Jesus
stood before me, His eyes seeing through to my soul. Hope would emerge if I
could believe in His healing power. The Risen Savior created a sense of
calmness where chaos had existed. An overwhelming sense of peace enveloped me.
Love pierced the darkness and Hope raised His scarred hands, reminding me of
the price it cost Him. The shadows began to lift, grudgingly at first, refusing
to accept defeat. A veil of light embraced the dark surroundings and the demons
fled. They recoiled because they could no longer see. They were lost—lost in the darkness because the light had blinded them.
I
knew at that moment, that I couldn't do this heinous thing. I no longer believed the
evil—an evil that tried to hurt me. I had been deceived. The fallen angels knew
they had lost their hold on me—at least for the moment. The screams of hate by
the demonic powers slowly trailed off as the darkness dispersed, leaving behind
a cat-o’-nine-tails reduced to whimpering.
They
would go in search of their unsuspecting next victim. For the moment, I was
free from their taunts. An overwhelming sense of love caressed my soul. A
deafening silence waited on cue for the celebration to begin. God’s angels
began to shower me with grace.
The
Immortal Being of the universes cast out my despair with His perfect love and
covered me with mercy. No longer fettered with chains in a dungeon of defeat, I
was free. For the first time, I felt loved.
I
was now at one with “The One” who knew my greatest need. He embraced me as I
had never been held, loved me as I had never been known—unconditionally. I was
given another chance at
life.
Poor in spirit, I had seen God.
I
quickly cleared the brightly-colored pills off the table and threw them away.
Their enchantment had lost its magic. No longer condemned, I was a new
creature, a new person, redeemed by the Redeemer. Exhausted but renewed, I had
seen a great light. Jesus had won—life over death. A celebration was at hand.
If the rocks could have cried out, they would have.
Jesus
said in Matthew 15:7, “I tell you that in the same way there will be more
rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous
persons who do not need to repent.”
“God,
please show me the way,” I begged. “Please forgive me."
For
the last twenty-six years, God has never left my side, but I will never forget
the day He delivered me from that demonic death knell. I thank God for reaching
down and saving me, the wretch that I was. Little did I know then the great
plans He had for my future.
By
the grace of God, since that experience, God has restored by life many times
over. I finished college and obtained my Master of Arts in Creative Writing.
God brought me two beautiful daughters from the ends of the earth that are now
fourteen and twenty-one. I was blessed with a job that allowed me to stay home
and even homeschool them. I have published four books and lead a network of
Christian authors from around the world.
Most
of all, my relationship with Jesus Christ has never wavered. Even though at
times I’ve made mistakes and disappointed Him, God has been faithful and
provided for all of my needs. I feel blessed for the doubts I once had because
God showered me through those dark days with His perfect love and gave me hope.
God is sufficient to meet every need, even when I am weak; and for that, I am
thankful.
To check out Lorilyn’s latest
book, Seventh Dimension – The Door, a YA Christian fantasy, you can purchase it
at the following websites:
REMEMBER: There is no pit so deep, no hurt so painful, no
secret so horrid that God can’t cover it through the death of His Son, Jesus
Christ. Open up your heart to the infinite possibilities of living a life of
love, no longer warped by bullying or scarred by deceitful words. Where there
is life, there is hope—and healing!
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