Just a few short months ago my life was headed down a path of total destruction. A path that would only lead to death. I was 35 years old, with two amazing children and a bright future ahead of me, yet I couldn’t figure out how to escape the misery of this nightmare I had created.
I remember laying in the Intensive Care Unit staring hopelessly at my IV waiting to hear the beep that would allow me to push the button and release my morphine. How is it that I had become so emotionless that I cared more about the morphine drip than I did about my kidney failing? I was fully aware that I was fighting for my life, but somehow I wasn’t affected by it. In fact, there was a part of my that was relieved by the thought of death. Miraculously, God had healed my body enough for me to leave the hospital after that week. I knew that I was going away with only one functioning kidney and an extremely long list of precautions. Still, I was hardly phased by this. The only precaution I was concerned about taking was how I would get what I needed in time to get high before my pain meds wore off.
Was it possible that my existence had become so unmanageable that I could barely function? I spent so much time trying to convince everyone that I wasn’t just a junky with a needle in my arm. The truth is that I was worse than that. I was not only a junky with a needle in my arm, I was in complete denial. My life was driven by anger, resentment, grief, guilt, and fear. I was careless and extremely reckless in my actions, and wouldn’t stop until all of my selfish, fleshly desires were met. I couldn’t help but question God’s plan. The only time I had ever felt peace was when I was married and raising my boys. But in the blink of an eye, I was a grieving widow.
I couldn’t make sense out of anything. I was raised better than this. Despite any circumstance that would come my way, I knew where my decisions would ultimately lead, but I still continued to make them. My parents loved and provided for me always. To this day, my family still rallies behind me with support. I have two boys who love me no matter what I’ve done, but for some reason that wasn’t enough. I was angry and bitter and knew in my soul that this was not the life God had created for me. I just didn’t know how to grab hold of all His promises.
Things changed the day my mom came to me and said she found a place in Kentucky called the Hope Center for Women that she believes is from God. She told me it’s not a rehab, but a home for women to go and learn how to truly love Jesus. My body was tired. In fact, I had very little fight left in me. I was both mentally and physically exhausted with my underlining eating disorder that I desperately couldn’t hide much longer, as well as my drug addiction that I could not tame. Somehow I knew if I didn’t take this opportunity that I probably wouldn’t live much longer. I had exhausted all excuses and had come to the end of my rope. Before I had barely agreed to come to the Hope Center for Women, my mom had me out of St. Louis and on my way to Scottsville.
I am so thankful that I finally saw God’s light. I had barely opened my eyes when His grace and love flooded my soul. The truth is that God was always there waiting patiently for my eyes to see the light and let Him in. After coming to the Hope Center for Women, I have a much greater understanding of who I am in Christ. Jesus knew me in my mother’s womb and has never left me. He loved me so much that He patiently waited all these years for me to call on Him. Jesus came and pulled me out of the pits of hell. Today, I sit here with such a thankful heart and a true love for our Father. I know my life will never be perfect. Every day will always present a new set of struggles. But now I know I’m not alone and I will never be again. Today I am a new creation in Jesus. Today I accept that nothing can separate me from His love. Today I can wholeheartedly say that with Jesus, nothing is impossible.