Before and After

Before and After

For much of my life I had an on-again-off-again relationship with God. That began to change on Oct. 31, 2001.

It was probably the most frightening day of my life.

During a surgery, I received a drug to temporarily paralyze me, but I was never given the anesthesia gases. When the first incision was made, I was paralyzed but could feel everything. The pain was unimaginable. I prayed that the surgeon would realize I was awake. Then I prayed he would stop the operation. Then I prayed I would die on the operating table and be put out of my misery. I asked God to kill me … to let me die. When the mistake was discovered and the gasses finally administered, I eventually drifted off. I assumed my last prayer was answered and that I had died.

When I awoke in recovery I immediately remembered the horror I had just experienced and started screaming. Those involved tried to cover up what had happened. My family quickly got me home.

After a few weeks, I tried to return to work. But I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety disorders. I lost my job. I cried all the time and couldn’t sleep without pills. I had terrifying nightmares. I was on megadoses of antidepressants and anxiety meds. A lawsuit dragged on for three years.

When my terms were met in the settlement, I thought the ordeal was finally over. But I continued to relive the trauma, causing me to withdraw from family and friends. I lost interest in daily activities and struggled to maintain healthy relationships. It became exhausting pretending to be happy. I figured my family was better off without me. I felt worthless as a wife and mother. I started researching how to end it all.

Then God moved.

I reluctantly attended a Realtors luncheon with my co-worker, Aaron. When the speaker was introduced. Aaron told me he was his pastor.

I thought to myself, “God help me!”

That is exactly what God did. Pastor Bryan Jarrett somehow took this secular topic and setting and masterfully interwove his testimony into the speech. It was brilliant.

A few minutes in, I asked Aaron, “Did you tell him about me?”

“No,” Aaron insisted, “just listen!”

I did. For the first time in a long time, I felt something other than misery.

When we returned to the office, I bombarded Aaron with questions about his “religion.”

“It’s not a religion, it’s a relationship,” he said.

I just couldn’t grasp it.

“You know what,” he offered, “Sunday is Easter. We are doing a drama, and it is really cool. So why don’t you come and visit and see what you think?”

At the service, the pastor spoke between the scenes, explaining God’s love, grace and mercy. I wept so much that I had to use my hair to dry my tears. I literally left the church drenched, my hair dripping wet.

That is the day I became a real Christian. On Easter 2003, thoughts of suicide disappeared instantly. Jesus became my comfort, not prescription drugs.

I took home a Pentecostal Evangel. On the back of the magazine, I filled out the “I recently made a decision to follow Christ” coupon and mailed it in. When I received the booklet on the Christian life, I called and made an appointment with Pastor Bryan.

I had had bad experiences with churches before, and when I arrived at his office my plan was to convince him to allow me to be part of the church. I thought he might object. I should never have worried. He agreed that I was a new creation and welcomed me with open arms. My past didn’t matter. I was truly forgiven.

My life has turned around. And the absolute best thing about trusting Christ for my salvation is this: I am guaranteed eternal life.

Maybe your life needs the “before and after” I experienced.