When I was younger I attempted suicide. I felt hopeless. Unloved. Insignificant. And I wanted nothing more than to make the pain and suffering of life go away. No matter how hard I tried to find the ray of light my life was dark and all I could see was the darkness engulfing me… forever. So I did the unthinkable.
God rescued me from that attempt to take my own life. But little did I know He would eventually ask me to kill myself for Him. Now I know that sounds harsh, but that’s exactly what the past four years have felt like.
Piece by piece every part of the person that existed four years ago has died. And trust me when I say it was no easy death. There were periods when I simply cried for weeks. Even more, periods when I wept for months. And yes, even times when I revisited the childhood idea of suicide.
I NEVER and I mean NEVER thought the refining would end. I thought why did God spare my life previously only to torture me now. But then I reached the end. God handed me the final match. It was by far the HARDEST one to light. I resisted. I fought. I begged to skip it. He would only answer ‘No’ and say He loved me. He waited patiently until He waited no more. The time had come.
Eyes closed, hands shaking, heart racing… I lit the match and allowed it to engulf the last inkling of my old self into the ashes. But as I lay there on fire, I saw a sparkle. It was beautiful. It was everything I ever hoped to look like and many things I never dreamed I could be.
But… it WAS me.
As a child suicide was so I might die. As an adult suicide was so I might live. #submit2017