This guest post is the testimony of my dear friend, Jake. I wish you could meet him. He’s been part of our family for several years now, and a true gift from the Lord for my husband and me.
Nevertheless I Live
In my mind I was running from the most evil thing I had ever seen in my life, but I couldn’t move. Extending and holding its ground, the fence was a prison. The trees looked pale as death, predicting the howling efficiency of my demise. I was there in the back yard with him. He stood as a threat, promising to see my torn soul cast into agony. I was powerless and unable to either defend myself or run.
My mind raced like a movie – five movies – scanning in fast forward to find just a shred of reason for my expected misery. I knew what was about to happen, but didn’t want to admit it was my own fault. All my life I hid from the truth and I was perpetrating again…
I’d thought it was a good idea to go to Jason’s house that night. It was after work and we were going to take some Orange Sunrise, a type of LSD. I was in a much different frame of mind. I had no cares, no thought about the future. There was no reason to hope for joy, but at the same time no reason to expect death to be so cruel.
We took our LSD in his living room, giving it ages to “hit,” joking about work and other small talk until the “trip” began. I gave him a tape of our band to play on the stereo. It played a few songs while we were waiting for the fun to start. I thought we got a bad batch because nothing was happening. We were stoned, and I thought it would end there.
We started down to the mini-mart like we’d taken aspirin. The last normal thing I remember was walking under the lights. At the pinball machine, we dropped in quarters and readied ourselves for action. Furiously we strove to subdue one another, playing past our time and into the credits. It must have seemed odd to see us frantically playing a game that was over.
Shouting and laughing, we realized we were not in control any longer. The walk back to Jason’s proved to hold my interest more than the walk to the store. The asphalt poured like thick, dark blood. The trees melted like wax on a hot stove. It seemed like we were descending with every step into an ember abode.
We looked at each other; his foolish grin contrasted my growing anxiety. It seemed only I knew where we were going. Gnashing teeth drenched the faces of those in agony plastered my eyes. In them I discovered where all the pain and hate of all the past ages had been. I was gazing into hell. In a twinge of terror, I searched my brain to think of how it happened – how I must have died! Death snapped on me like a trap. I wasn’t ready to die!
“How did this happen?” I thought, overwhelmed with conviction about my wickedness and God’s purity. I was condemned and I knew that I deserved hell. I was dead and gone, having wasted my chances for heaven – and trampled underfoot the sacrifice of the blood Jesus shed for me. “Oh, I wish I had one more chance,” I thought.
Jason turned to tell me that we were locked out of his house. He looked different. Standing there was this seven- or eight-foot demon. He pridefully strutted about the backyard, swaying with his cedar of a tail. His red, transparent body looking as if it could weigh four hundred pounds if it were from this world.
My friend seemed to be caught inside this evil spirit, not caring that he was being used.
In my mind, I was running from the most evil thing I had ever seen in my life, but I was trapped in the back yard.
“Are you Satan?” I kept asking, knowing he wasn’t. I had glimpsed him moments before.
The Prince of the Power of the Air was much like a snake, swallowing the inhabitants of the earth. He got me too, deceived me into believing that I had time to leave God out of my life until the time came for me to die – arrogant enough to think I would conveniently extract forgiveness from Him while on my deathbed.
Overcome with grief, I fell to the ground.
Hours passed with visions of my terrible new home, my missed opportunities to be saved, and the pain I caused my family by my death.
Still lying on the ground, I realized that I wasn’t dead. It had been hours, and after all it seems judgment would come swiftly. Scooping myself up from the ground, fear sliding off my back and realizing that I had one more chance to change masters, I fell to my knees and cried, “Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior!” I begged God to forgive me and save my wretched soul.
Instantly, the scene changed. Jason’s horrible companion was gone. The agony that filled my eyes and burned a scar into my mind, the faces of those in hell, was healed. I was free to go.
Jason seemed irritated at my spiritual escape. He said that he wanted to be the captain of his own destiny, that he wanted to make his own rules. Having just seen the end of that road, I thought him foolish.
I walked to my car, got in and slammed the door. Without giving the motor time to warm up, I left for home.
Later I read in the Bible that, “Anyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” It took a long look into hell to make me realize that I had taken life for granted; that I had no other place to go but Jesus. I thank God for the gift of eternal life that He bought for me.
I’m thankful that Jesus uses drugs – to save someone like me.