Christian Living

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One thing I had learned in my life was self discipline, how to hide my emotions, be in control at all times. That had been drilled into me during my Military days, Never surrender, do not leave a buddy behind. Those were all great traits to have. My friends were gone, my security and self confidence had vanished. My life was a shambles, and I could care less.

Since my career as a Cop had abruptly ended, I lost my identity. My purpose in life was gone, my will to live had evaporated. Depression had taken control of my useless worthless life. I was a complete failure in life. I no longer care about God or my soul. Death was all I could think about. Going to hell seemed like a good choice at the time. It would be a relief from the agony I was in.

Everyday I would wake and get out of bed. My wife would be getting ready to go to work. I could see the hurt and disappointment in her eyes. The man she married was a ghost. He had eroded into nothing but a man with no hope, no trust in anyone or anything.

My life was an utter and complete disaster. I was a waste of space. Ending my life was always on my mind, as I just sat in my chair day after day. The depression worsened from day to day. The medication did not help matters at all. I had everyone fooled as I put up a good facade. The choices I had left were getting smaller and smaller.

The day of my decision was a cool spring day. I got out of bed, and immediately knew that today was the day that I had been waiting for. I could no longer withstand the pain, the knowledge that I had lost all hope of living. My thoughts were as clear as the ocean in the tropics.

I went to the closet where I retrieved a black case. That case contained my Glock 27 forty caliber handgun. I ejected the magazine to make sure it was loaded. It held some of my old police rounds. So I knew it would do the trick. The gun made a familiar sound as I pulled the slide back to chamber a round.

The time had come, time to end all the suffering I had caused. I sat on the edge of the bed. My thoughts were of my wife as I readied myself to put a bullet through my head. She deserved much better than me, I had a good deal of life insurance and had made sure that the policies would cover suicide.

So I knew my wife would be ok, because in death I would give her everything she wanted in life. My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to come through my chest. The gun was there, I made one last check to see that a round was in the chamber. I raised the gun and placed it to my temple. I began sobbing uncontrollably, and then I pulled the trigger.

The room was quiet, there gun had misfired. I began to shake, and sob even more. I chambered another round, stuck it to my head and "click." Another misfire, at this point I was shaking and crying so much I could not hold the gun any longer. I leaned over to put the gun on the dresser and there it was. It loomed out at me and stood out so loudly that you could not overlook it.

I laid the gun down, and there beneath it was my bible. How it got there I can not tell you, but there it laid. My tears were dripping off me like the water drips out of a fountain. My body dropped down to my knees, and I began to pray to God. I prayed and asked God to help me. All of a sudden, I felt a strange sensation that made me quiver. The room became bright and filled with light.

I prayed and asked God to show me why I had to suffer through all this mess in my life. All I can remember is that I just knew that there was a reason to live. A reason to keep going. I had rolled the dice and lost. I played the suicide game and failed. God had spared me for some reason.

My life has changed since that dark gloomy day with the smell of death in the air. While I still have depression, I was able to keep it in the back of my mind thanks to the support of my family, my therapists, and my doctor. Every now and then I go back to the day when I played the suicide card and lost, or I guess I should say that I won instead.

Those days are a distant memory, but I keep it stored for the time that I will need to remember how I felt. There will come a time when someone will cross my path. They will be living on their last glimmer of hope. Then I will follow through with using all of that pain, rage, distrust in God and religion. I will be able to help that person, and will be able to offer my testimony to them, as a way to let them understand that I have been there.

As I will begin my Graduate work toward a Master's in Counseling in a few weeks, and I know that when I graduate, I will be able to use this story of desperation to help rebuild their life and faith in God. Now, I have a purpose in life, and I also have God in my heart and soul. May God bless you, and thank you for reading my testimony.

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