“Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be
saved." ~ Romans 10:13
Gary wondered how his life had
ever gotten this crazy. He laid on the
couch thinking through a list of possibilities, fighting off nausea while his
heart pounded as if trying to destroy itself.
His first thought was to drive his rusted SUV off a bridge
and drown himself. The thought of not
being able to breathe terrified him, which pretty much ruled out smothering
too, using a plastic bag for example.
Jumping in front of a moving train might work. But it’s messy, probably painful and a dreadful
task for the people whose job it was to remove the carnage.
He couldn’t stomach the thought of twisting and thrashing
after kicking a chair out from under himself.
He even considered sitting in a bathtub and slashing his throat, but
with the first spurt of blood from his carotid artery, he’d want to change his
mind and it would be too late.
As for carbon monoxide poisoning – too much time to
reconsider. Pills or poison? Same thing!
If he chickened out and called 911, word would get
around and he’d lose respect from everyone who knew him not to mention the
liver damage he’d face. He didn’t dare
jump off a building. With his luck, he’d
survive and be mutilated beyond recognition.
Years of psychiatric counseling – no way!
Last on his list was his trusty Colt 45. It would have to be a precise shot because
the worst scenario was to end up paralyzed and brain damaged. That’d really suck! A bad job of shooting himself would leave him
just enough awareness of why he wanted to off himself in the first place but helpless
to do anything about it.
He loaded his gun and placed the cold steel in his mouth,
careful to aim up at a 45 degree angle.
A soft point bullet through the cerebellum was his best chance at
fatality.
His cell phone rang . . . and rang, in fact the damn thing
wouldn’t stop ringing. The caller-ID
read 'Almighty God'. Gary was afraid to
answer – but even more afraid to pull the trigger. He put his weapon down and returned the call.
A female voice answered: “Pastor Carrie, may I help you?”
“Uh, well, I . . .,” Gary’s confused, suicidal voice
stammered. “I believe you called
me. Did you say you were a Pastor?”
“Oh dear,” responded the kindly voice. “My name is Carrie Dodd, and I’m the Pastor
at “Almighty God Tabernacle. As the kids
say, I must have ‘butt-dialed’ you by mistake!
Please forgive me.”
“Actually,” Gary said, “it was NO mistake – you just saved
my life!”
Friends, think of it this way: suicide only hurts the people
who care about you. Talk to a friend –
wait for the next sunrise.
Lord Jesus, let nothing ever separate us
from Your love. Neither death nor life,
neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about
tomorrow. Shine Your light even in my darkest hour. Amen
