Six years ago today, I stood in the bathroom of a sleazy motel in south Florida staring with hatred at the face of the man looking back at me.
On the morning of August 18, 2009, the FBI had come to arrest me for possession of child pornography and while their attention was focused on the motel office where I was supposed to be working, I had slipped into my tiny room and decided that the best way to rid myself of the evil that had taken up residence within me, was to kill myself.
I broke apart a disposable razor and struck violently at both sides of my neck with the blades. This was no ‘cry for help’ or ‘appeal for sympathy’. I wanted the person I saw in the mirror to die, and when the blood erupted from my neck, I felt certain I had guaranteed success.
But death was not what God had in mind for me that day.
As I stated during my Baptism testimony, I was almost out of options and certainly almost out of time, when I asked God for His forgiveness. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry out. There was no shout.
I whispered, in a very weak voice.
I have since come to understand that He was standing right there waiting to hear the words that would give Him great joy, and me a new life. I could write at great length about all the minute details God has attended to in my life since that day, but that is not the purpose here. I have done that, and will continue to do that, but here…now….today….I want to talk about THAT DAY. I want people who don’t believe, or are afraid to believe, or feel they have lived too sinful a life for God to allow them to believe………I want everyone to understand what happened that day and why I take joy in looking at the picture below:
This is only one of 3 pictures I have showing that scene. Being black and white photo copies of pictures they are of poor quality, but it is still easy to see the blood. My blood, and lots of it. The other photos show the inside of the shower stall, and that is where most of the blood was. What a sight I must have presented to the FBI agents God sent in to save me!
And what a terrible sight I must have presented to my Father who had waited patiently for over 40 years to hear my cries for help.