I know I had this up in the story section for a while, since it seems kind of like a story, but it's really more of a prayer than anything else. If you don't understand all of it, don't worry. You're not supposed to. It's supposed to be more like a dream than anything else. By the way, when I say it's my story, I mean it's a true one. Hope you enjoy it!
Lord, I am so afraid. I'm afraid I'll give up. Lord, I can't live without you. I'd rather die. I don't want to go back, to how I was before. But every day, I can feel my strength ebbing. The temptations are strong…too strong. I'm not strong enough, God. And I can't hold on much longer.
I am shaking with fear and with the ferventness of my prayer. My Bible lies open on the floor beside me. Saltwater is on my lips and the world around me has gone hazy. I am alone. Very alone.
God, you promised you would never leave me. You said you'd always be here. You said you'd always answer me.
The tears come more quickly.
"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither life nor death, nor anything else in all Creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." That is the promise you have given me, God. And I've hung onto that promise for more years than I can count. And now I've come to claim it.
I am on my knees now, kneeling beside my bed. I am shaking so badly that for a moment I almost fall onto the floor. I am sobbing, my hands clasped in front of me, all the agony of a broken spirit pouring out through the words I speak.
God, I need your strength. I can't do it anymore. I've laid so much at your feet already…and each time I think I have it figured out, I find that something else has pulled more wool over my eyes. So here I am again, with an even bigger burden. Lord, I can't do this. I can't hold on. But even when I give up, Jesus, don't let go of me. You promised nothing would separate us. But I can't do it, so I need you to do it for me.
Something surges inside of me, the presence that has been so elusive for so long. And suddenly I know that I am not alone. He is here, and He is listening to me. And His arms are around me. And I fall on my face, overwhelmed with the power and the majesty before me.
Jesus...don't let me go.
The world fades around me.
Someone is crying. The terrified, anguished sobs of a frightened child. I realize that the one crying is me. I am afraid. Desperately afraid.
Something is pulling at me. Darkness, deep and black and so thick it swallows everything around it. It swirls around my feet, clutches at me. It wants me. It is pulling me away.
No! Comes the cry from inside. I struggle, my hands reaching out for something, anything to grasp, to hold onto. But there is nothing. Jesus, help me!
Suddenly, my hands close on something. Another pair of hands. Someone is holding me, someone is fighting the grasp the darkness has on me.
I grip His hands back, as tight as I can. I can't let go. I won't. As long as I can hold onto these hands, I am safe. The darkness cannot have me.
But the pulling does not cease, and the harder I hold on, the stronger the darkness seems to become. It wells up around me, and I am only a puny speck before the mighty wall of evil that threatens to sweep me away. I am trying to say something, but the roar of the flood of darkness drowns out my prayers. I won't let go! I won't!
Sweat drips down my forehead and neck, soaks my palms. I try to hold tighter, but I can't! My hands are too slippery. They begin to slide. Jesus, I'm slipping!
I am screaming. I can't hold on! Jesus, it has me! I can't fight it any longer! Jesus! I cry in the same instant my fingers go limp. Jesus! Don't let me go!!!
For a long split second the darkness seems to sweep me away. I am lost! I am calling His name, but I cannot even hear my own voice. Jesus, where are you?! Do something!
And then I realize that He has never let go of me. His hands, stronger even then the raging flood, have kept their grip on me, even when I let go. I am anchored to an immovable rock in the raging storm.
Suddenly, the darkness pulls away, driven out my the sudden burst of light in front of me. Its pull weakens, then is no more. The evil has no more hold on me.
He pulls me up, and for the first time my feet touch firm ground. And that is when I notice the scars on His hands. Scars that should have crippled those hands forever. But I know my Savior is stronger than even the nails that pierced Him.
Then I look up into a face, shining to brightly to really see, but it is more beautiful than anything I have ever imagined. He puts His arms around me. I am crying. You'll never let me go, Jesus. Never let me go.
I am kneeling then, kneeling before a magnificent throne. And His power and His glory are shining all around me, and I join in the praise. I am safe, I will always be safe here at His feet.
Bit by bit, I am brought back to reality by the sound of rain on the roof. I am lying across my bed, my hands stretched out before, my face resting lightly on the covers. Tears still stain my face, but I am not crying anymore. I am too at peace to cry. The peace fills me, penetrates to the center of my soul. A light rain is falling outside.
I lie there for a little longer, not wanting the moment to end. I say one last prayer. Then I go to wash my face and watch the rain.