chrysalis
As a child I believed with all my heart that God would miraculously appear to me. At night I'd lie in bed, raise my hands in the air and ask Him to fill my bedroom. I waited and waited, but He never came like in the Bible. Almost every night, I would wake up frozen with fear, literally paralyzed. It took everything I had to run out of my room, around the corner, up the stairs, down the hall into my brother's room and onto his bottom bunk.
During my senior year of high school, I began to have excruciating headaches. Even the specialists couldn't figure out where they were coming from. I carried ibuprofen everywhere. Somedays I would take up to thirteen pills. Depression set in. My parents became really worried and sent me to a counselor, but I didn't want to talk with anyone. When the depression continued to deepen, my family doctor recommended anti-depressants. I couldn't understand what was going on. I was trapped. I felt incredibly hopeless.
On a day my headache was unbearable, a toxic friend said awful, cruel things to me. My world crashed. I couldn't stop crying. My dad pulled me out of school and drove me home. I remember hearing his car pull out of the driveway. I began to sob uncontrollably. I completely lost it. I started screaming at the top of my lungs. I was so angry! I screamed at God again and again, "Where are you? Why have you abandoned me? Why are you so silent? I thought you loved me!"
I ran into the kitchen, pulled open one of the drawers and grabbed a knife. I ran it across my arm but it wasn't sharp enough. I put the knife down and an eerie sensation suddenly came over my body. I walked up the stairs, into the bathroom and took a blade out of a razor. Calmly, I sat on the bathroom floor with my arm over the toilet and slid the blade across my upper forearm. I'll never forget that feeling. I had finally found my release.
An incredible pounding at the front door snapped me out of my daze. I looked at my arm. It was covered with blood. I started to sob again. The pounding wouldn't stop. It got louder and louder. I covered my arm with a towel and went to the door, but I was scared to answer it. Who would pound so incessantly?
As I opened the door, the presence of God completely overwhelmed me. He filled the room. He covered me. I hid my arm behind my back and looked out. Two women smiled back at me, "Charity, this world is a place filled with hurt but God loves you and He will always, always be there for you. You are not to give up so easily."
Then they handed me a pamphlet, smiled and walked away. I was completely baffled. I looked out the window but they were gone. My headache was gone.
I had cut myself 35 times. I cleaned up the mess and bandaged my arm. I went back to school. I wanted to tell someone about what had happened but I didn't want anyone to know about my arm. I couldn't stop thinking about the women. As soon as I got home I ran to my room to read the pamphlet they had given me. I looked everywhere. It was nowhere to be found.
I had opened a dangerous door that day, one that I would struggle to close for a year and a half. I realized we all live in a war zone fueled by the consequences of our sins and the sins of others. We are caught in a fight for our dreams, our passions, and our soul.
God is truly a mystery. I don't know why He intervenes sometimes and other times He doesn't. But I do know that He is always working. He is always right here in the midst of our chaos and He loves us more than we could ever imagine. We are not to give up so easily. I had called out as a child for His presence, His power, and His love. I had held up my arms and asked Him to come. God answered my prayer that day, just like in the Bible with two angels on my doorstep.
Charity has been involved in the fashion industry for the past twelve years. She is currently earning a Master of Theology with a concentration in Global Leadership. Charity and her husband John love living in Los Angeles and have been a part of Mosaic for three and a half years.
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