Próto Evangélio

I really liked doing heroin.

I didn't even feel guilty about it anymore. Jail, homelessness, alienation, unemployment, rapidly declining health, crime, didn't bother me. These were mere inconveniences. Annoyances. I wasn't scared. At least it felt that way.

I'd seen it all by then. My mother and father weeping, judges, probation officers, baffled doctors, treatment centers, self-help, AA meetings, therapy, unadulterated violence. I overdosed one time and spontaneously woke up on my girlfriend's apartment floor gasping for air.

I know what it sounds like to hear the rain splash on the same square of concrete I was sleeping on.

I know what it's like to feel the cool steel of handcuffs on my wrists.

I've heard a cell door slam shut behind me.

The warm rush of the drug pushes you down deep, past the guilt, shame, and hopelessness. It drags you into the abyss. In that moment, you are convinced this is who you are, how it was meant to be, and life cannot and will not get any better. How could it?

How do you save someone who is knowingly killing themselves?

I couldn't stop if I wanted to. But, I was so tired.

Then I met a man.

He told me I was loved unconditionally.

He told me I was forgiven unconditionally.

He told me there was now a place for me in His kingdom for all of eternity.

I only need believe on Him, whilst learning to love like Him and forgive like Him.

I haven't had the desire to use drugs or alcohol for 6 and a half years.

I have no explanation for this. I wasn't even willing.

I was just tired.

And then I was saved.