I stared at the pills on the table, counting them. Fifteen. It was the third time this week I had thought about killing myself, the third time this week I’d dumped those fifteen pills onto the table. Only to wimp out.
“But not this time.” I mumbled.
I walked into my kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. I set that on the table, too, right beside the pills. And then came the hard part, because deep down inside me. I didn’t want to die. I took a swig of the water and put a pill in my mouth. Then I spit it out.
I put my head in my hands and thought. I was angry because I wanted to die, and because I didn’t have the guts to kill myself.
“It can’t be made right again.” I said softly, “I should just die.”
There was so much that had happened in such a short time, it felt like the world had exploded in my face and could never be made right again. Living was too much work, and dying would be so easy.
"My yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
I looked around for the source of the voice, and then realized it wasn’t a voice. That it must just be my imagination.
"I love you. It’s not your time to die."
“Who are you?” I asked, scared.
"You know who I am."
I squeezed my eyes shut. Yes, I did know that voice. I didn’t know if I had heard it before or not, but I defiantly knew the voice.
“Jesus?” I asked.
"I am. And I love you, I love you more than you’ll ever know. Stop trying to run away from me. Put away the pills."
I slowly did as the voice commanded, a feeling of peace washing over me.
“I can’t keep on doing this, God,” I whispered, “living is too hard.”
"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your soul. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
“I want to but I can’t. I’m not good enough. You deserve so much better.”
"I want you the way you are."
“I don’t know how to follow You.”
"Let me teach you."
“Alright. But I don’t think you can save me.”
“God, I can’t do it.”
"Let me do everything for you. Just trust me."
“I do trust you. I love you.”
"Then follow me."
“I can try.”
"Don’t just try. I’m not some sample that you can test out and discard if you don’t like. If you’re going to follow me, then put your whole heart into it."
And suddenly I was on my knees, crying for the first time in six years. Crying because I had finally found a reason to keep living. Crying because of everything that had happened. It was like the walls of my soul had been torn down and everything was finally coming out. Everything I’d ever done seemed to leave with those tears, and I was filled with a new hope.
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