Here is my testimony of the call on my life by God in a dramatic way. This was written for an English class at the school I attend in essay form:
We had agreed, due to my limited experiences behind the wheel, that my buddies would pick me up this time. It was Saturday night. I was 16 years old, still in High School, and was not socially “fit” to hang out with anyone, much less these folks. They deemed me the “Average Joe”. A nobody. I was seen as a cobweb in the locker rooms and halls of our Alma Mater.
My family lived in a sort of cul-de-sac in middle suburbia. Our street flowed forward 5 blocks, and my dad had shown me an odd bit of trivia, I thought I would never use. He showed me how to decipher the types of cars on the road, simply by studying the headlights at night and their relative distance from each other. I found I was pretty good at this feat. I could determine if it was a sports car, a van and even the style of the car. The vehicles of today look too much alike, so I have given up the “ability”.
I went into my bedroom, which faced the street and I perched myself on the messed-up bed, waiting for the fateful moment of my friends’ arrival. I packed some things into my coat for the evening. One of which would decide my fate later on in the evening.
It was a typical fall evening with the colors of the leaves changing and twilight was setting in quickly. We arrived at “Vickie’s house” sometime after 7 p.m., and there were already a few other cars in the driveway. I heard sounds of the latest tunes playing in the basement. Journey, Poison, Def Leppard and The Clash were thumping away in the underground room.
My friends and I made our way closer to the sounds. A few teenage girls had arrived before us. They were dancing to the music in a back corner of the basement room. I kept to my usual shy self and found a seat in the opposite corner of the room.
Someone had recently been smoking, and the room’s décor was that of the mid-60’s suburban style. Plaid couches and the everlasting Lava lamp in the center of it all. The lamp was used often, as the globules looked more like burned ketchup floating up and down the glass shaft. I stared at it for what seemed to be an hour.
The rest of the groups that had arrived were still milling around the music, oblivious to my whereabouts, and were talking one to another about the “whatever’s” and the “whatnots”. This was not surprising. I experienced this daily in class, and I knew it wouldn’t change here.
I pulled out one of the contents in my coat, and studied its scratched, metal surface. It was a Buck Knife. I remember opening it and closing it repeatedly. I wanted to be apart of the crowd so badly. I could feel the loneliness blanketing me all over my soul. The rawness of the emotions inside me seemed to stop at the surface of my mask. The mask of smiles and laughter, that is. Who would think that someone could be so lonely in a place filled with people? Unfortunately, I was.
A girl came over to me as I was staring blankly at the knife. She said nothing at first. Then, “Dave, are you OK?”, she asked. I dropped my chin down and nodded. The thoughts were invading every crevice of my mind. They were so loud now, that I hadn’t actually heard my friend’s voice. The voices spoke softly at first. Then with an ever-increasing crescendo, they cried… “THEY DON’T CARE ABOUT ME. A POOL OF MY OWN BLOOD COULD BE SPILLED ON THIS FLOOR AND THEY WOULDN’T EVEN NOTICE” ...She left me to my “thoughts” and returned to the “whatnot”.
I took the knife and began slashing at my wrist. Nothing. It was a dull blade. I just wanted the pain to leave me. I took it up to my throat and slid it across from Jugular to Jugular. A sense of shock fell over me, as I actually thought it would slice my head straight off. NOTHING!
My thoughts rang inside me, “Just take the loneliness away! Somebody love me”!
A new thought entered my mind. It was different from the rest. One of those Pull-You-Up-By-The-Bootstraps kind of thoughts that drilled deep in my soul. A new resolve to live came over me, and I listened intently. I left the house that night with that thought. I pondered it. Medititating on it. It wouldn’t leave me for a while.
One of the girls at the party truly befriended me. She introduced me to a new friend that has helped me through the depression and loneliness I felt that night. This special friend has never left my side. I will never forget the lesson I learned after that night’s events. Some may say I slipped over the right side of the knife’s edge. I call it a new beginning, filled with hope and a future. No longer just another day.
**** Jesus Christ is that friend. The BEST FRIEND I ever had and will ever have. I want you to know Him like I do.
