May 31, 2005

• The Story

  
  

  Saturday AM  The urge to write the story was strong.  The words came in a clear, concise manner.  Jotting down every detail like a painter with a brush, I wrote the strange and weird story.  Little did I know that later that night I would be rushing home to get that story that was now on paper. 

  
  

  Saturday PM  I went to the prayer service.  The numbers were small but it was a good time of prayer.  Towards the end a lady came through the back door.  My pastor and his wife went to talk to her.  She was distraught so they asked her to go in a back room so they could talk to her in privacy.  Five minutes into their conversation I was asked to join.  As I listened to the ladies story, shock came to me. 

  
  

  I asked to be excused because I needed to run home and get something.  My heart was beating as I ran into my house and grabbed ”the story”. 

  
  

  When I got back to the church I explained “The Story”.  Pastor Jeff asked me to read it. 

  
  

  It went something like this:  I was deep in sorrow and despair as I walked down the dark road.  My lover, who was the same sex as I was, had just left me.  Now I wanted to leave this earth.  I made the plans. I knew the destination that would end the pain.  I would jump off the bridge into the river below and end everything.  The walk, the long walk in darkness was disrupted by a shining light.  The light kept calling to me and at first I wanted to walk past it but I couldn’t.  I was drawn to it, so to it I would go. 

  
  

  I read the story and the lady had to sit down.  It was her story.  Her lesbian lover had just left her.  She was headed to the Missouri River in order to commit suicide.  Pastor Jeff softly told her that Jesus loved her and knew her situation.  She  conceded that was the case. 

  
  

  The lady now has a new story;  a story that’s written down in glory.  She gave her heart to Jesus that night. 

  
  

   

  
  

   

  • 8:40 am
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