Redeemed

Hello readers, this is not an update of life in El Salvador. Instead, it is my testimony, written for a creative writing class that I took several years ago. I trust it can be of value.

I am driving when my friend texts me – You need to listen to Toby Mac’s new song, “Love Broke Through.”  I click the link in the text and music pours out of the speakers –

 It was just another summer night

Had to be the last thing on my mind

When love broke thru

You found me in the darkness

Wanderin’ thru the desert

I was a hopeless fool

My eyes fill with tears.  Instead of the road and the oncoming traffic, I see a group of young people sitting around a campfire, deep in the mountains of WV.  My mind goes back to that warm summer night, August 28, 2015. 

When I headed out on our yearly camping trip with my youth group, I had no idea that this weekend would change my life forever.  I had no idea that a battle was being waged for my soul.  Playing softball and volleyball and eating lots of good food was all I saw in my immediate future.   Yet as I sat in my camping chair around 9:00 that night, I suddenly became aware of what my life really was and the choice that had to be made.   I didn’t notice the cool, still night or see the stars, glowing as though the lights of heaven spilled out of a million windows.  I didn’t hear the crackling fire or the soft talk and laughter of the young people sitting around me. 

My entire being is consumed with the battle raging inside my soul and mind.  I am consumed with the choice I have to make.  Everything that is natural and human screams to say nothing, to do nothing, and to go on with my life as it has always been.  My pride, my arrogance and my selfish nature cry out that everything is ok; no decision has to be made.  Deep inside, beneath the shallow veneer that I present the world, even beneath the young man that my friends know, a voice demands that tonight a choice be made.  Tonight, you must choose, He whispers.  Will you continue to live for you and your pleasure alone, or will you submit to the will of your Creator and Redeemer?

My breath comes with difficulty, my stomach tightens and churns until I think I need to puke.  The deliciously salty, homemade, Chex-mix that I’m eating turns to dust in my mouth and refuses to be swallowed.  I set the container down, unable to take one more bite.  I’m glad for the darkness, glad that my friends cannot see the turmoil racking my soul.  The activity for the evening is share time; each of us young people take a few minutes to share what is on our heart and a struggle or two we may be encountering.  My turn comes all too soon and there is no more delay, no more putting off the decision that has to be made.

With a shaky voice, I croak, “I’ve got something hard to say to everyone here but I don’t have the strength to say it.  Will you pray for me?”  Immediately, several of my closest friends jump up, put their hands on my shoulders and pray for me.   As they sit back down, the words that stuck in my throat now began to come out, reluctantly, haltingly, but with absolute sincerity. 

In a voice full of shame and fear, I pour out everything that I have been hiding for so long.  “This is so hard for me to say because I feel like you guys look up to me and respect me.  But I can’t keep hiding anymore and I want to tell you the truth.  I’m not a Christian and I haven’t been for at least the last 5 years.  I’m addicted to pornography.  I sneak away and watch the dirtiest movies I can find.  I don’t read my Bible or pray.  I’ve lied to you guys, my parents and everyone around me.  Tonight, I want to say I’m sorry and I really do want to follow Jesus.”

I did all that I could to undo me

But You loved me enough to pursue me

As the song continues to play on repeat, I think back to when I was 15 and afraid that I was going to Hell.  I called for my mom and together we prayed the sinner’s prayer and I felt at peace and happy.  Three years later, I was 18 and the things of God seemed far less important than all the good things the world had to offer. Appearances were kept up for my parents’ and friends’ sake but I quit trying to do what was right and only did the things that I wanted to do.  In the 5 years that followed, I became a master hypocrite and adept at sounding spiritual and religious. 

As the road hums beneath my tires, I return to the warm summer night around the campfire. 

Silence follows my confession.  I wait for condemnation from my peers, for shocked gasps or murmured words of disappointment.  Instead, my friends once again jump up and prepare to pray for me.  One of the youth leaders speaks up.  “What Keith is asking for is a serious thing.  Before we pray for him, each one of us needs to make sure we are right with God.”  One by one, the young men clear their lives, publicly confessing anything that would separate them from God. 

I kneel and the young men surround me, lay their hands on me and begin to pray.  As they pray, an overwhelming sorrow floods me and I begin to cry with the torturous, racking sobs of a soul in torment.  As I sob and tears stream down my face, my body begins to shake violently and I gasp for air.  It feels as though I am unable to draw enough air into my lungs to breathe.   My hand flails to find something solid and clutches the leg of a picnic table.  I feel that if I let go, I will be flung out of the circle into the darkness.   “It has to come out; it has to come out,” I gasp. 

As my friends begin to realize what is happening, they pray for specific sins in my life.  Each time they pray, I shake violently, choking and gagging until whatever is inside of me is forced out.   The choking and gagging sounds become almost unbearable for some of the girls, who have remained around the campfire, singing and praying.  They leave the fire for a while to get away from the awful noise.  Later they tell me that although many of them spent time alone praying in the darkness, no one felt any fear.  Even as the night becomes stranger and the forces of evil stronger, a sense of peace remains. 

For what seems to be an eternity, I shake, gag, choke and then sag in relief until the whole cycle starts over again.  CRASH! And then again, CRASH!  Trees falling in the woods?  The night is still, there is no wind.    

Eventually, it seems as if there is no more progress being made, no matter how earnestly the young men around me lift their voices in prayer.  Suddenly, I feel as if I have to get lower. 

My friends are packed so closely around me I am forced to shove them back so I can get flat on my face.  As I lay there, words began to come out of my mouth.  Words that I don’t want to say, saying things that I have no way of knowing.  “The demon of pride is still inside.  You cast out the demons of pornography and lust but the demon of pride is too strong.  It will not come out.  The only way the demon of pride will leave is if the angel of God, Gabriel, will come and drive him out.”

 I know with certainty that Gabriel is standing at the right hand of God, waiting to come and drive out the demon of pride.  Something is holding him back.  Suddenly, inexplicably I know what it is.   God is speaking directly into my mind and my spirit recoils.  I cry out “Why me God?  Why not one of these other young men who have been faithfully following you?  Why do you choose to speak to me?” 

My mind returns to the reason that Gabriel will not come, and I say out loud “I know why God won’t send Gabriel to defeat this demon of pride.”  Then my rational mind engages, and I think, This is crazy. God doesn’t speak to people this way. I can’t know these things. I’m going crazy.  I clamp my mouth shut and refuse to say more.  My friends beg me to say the things that are bursting inside of me, but I refuse.  Suddenly as though someone physically jerked my jaw apart, my mouth opens and words come tumbling out, “I know why Gabriel can’t come.  There is someone here tonight that needs to accept Jesus and until he does Gabriel will not come.” 

A soul is won for the Kingdom and even though the place where I am laying on the floor is some distance from where the conversion took place, I instantly know it has happened.  Someone comes to tell me and before they have a chance to speak, I say, “He accepted Jesus, Gabriel can come”.  Even as I speak, I know that Gabriel has arrived.  The instant he arrives I feel the demon of pride leave.  The other demons fought hard to stay inside and their leaving was very physical.  It had felt as though my insides were being torn out.  Pride leaves without a struggle.  The simple presence of the angel is enough.

You were there, You heard my prayer in that broke down dusty room

It was the first time I said I’m Yours

The first time I called You Lord

Toby Mac’s voice continues to pour out of the speakers and I remember when Jesus heard my prayer.  When I said, “I’m Yours.”  When I called Him, “Lord.” 

I stand up and glance around.  It is 1:30 AM.   My friends are staring at me awkwardly. We don’t know what to say.  Finally, someone asks me, “How do you feel?”

“Empty, incredibly empty.  I thought I would feel Jesus inside of me, but I don’t feel anything.”

“Jesus does not force himself on us.  He only comes if we ask him.  Do you want to ask him into your life?”

Numbly, I kneel beside the fire, my head resting on a camping chair.   Three of my friends remain beside me; the others leave to give me space and privacy to make this decision. 

As I pray, my words feel forced and unfeeling.  I stop, unsure of how to proceed.            

T says softly, “Keith, ask Jesus how he felt about all the things you did.”

So, I ask Him.  “Jesus, how did it make You feel when I watched pornography and masturbated?  How did it make You feel when I lied and lived like a hypocrite?”

Immediately, I see Jesus in my mind.  He is weeping, the tears pouring from His eyes and running down His face.  I cry now, and it is not a pretty sight.  Tears and snot run down my face. I press my head into the fabric of the chair.

Quietly T tells me, “Keith, ask Jesus if He still loves you.”

Again, I see Jesus in my mind.  This time He is standing, looking at me with His arms wide open.  He says, Of course I still love you.  I made you and I died for you.

The sobs come even harder now.  I cannot understand why an eternal, all-powerful God would love me and desire to have a relationship with me after everything that I have done.

T prays, “Jesus, please bring something to Keith’s mind that will give him peace.”

The verse flashes into my mind, “Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world.”

Again, T prays, “Jesus, please bring something to Keith’s mind that will give him peace.”

A scene becomes clear in my mind.  There is a group of angels, surrounding a lamb.  The lead angel is carrying a trumpet.  Somehow, I know that I am the lamb and that if we are attacked the angel will blow on his trumpet and the very hosts of heaven will be there to help us.

Again, T prays, “Jesus, please bring one more picture to Keith’s mind that will give him peace.”

This time, I see my heart as the coldest, hardest stone you can imagine.  The events of the past few hours have left it broken and crushed into a million pieces.  I am in the middle of the pieces, frantically trying to put everything back together.  Jesus walks up behind me.  He puts His hand on my arm until I am still.  Then He kneels beside me and He works on putting my heart back together.  As He works, He is looking at a picture on the wall of what He wants my heart to look like.  It is simply a big, red, soft, heart-shaped heart.

I stand up.  It is 2:30 AM.   I am no longer crying.  I feel the most incredible peace that I have ever known.  It fills me and I feel warm, safe, protected and loved.  I know without question that Jesus is inside of me.  I hug my friends, thank them for sticking with me and head to bed.  Sleep comes quickly, and I do not awaken until morning. 

Now I’m hopelessly devoted

My chains are broken

And it all began with You

When love broke thru

When love broke thruuuuuu

As the music fades, I return to the present.  I make a mental note to thank my friend for sending me the link to “Love Broke Through.”  The song has spoken to my soul and reminded me of the incredible love and power of the God that I now serve. 

I am thankful for the reminder because sometimes I am tempted to forget what happened to me, to pretend I imagined all of it.  Demons are popular in movies and pop culture in America but everyone knows that they are not real.  They don’t actually live inside of people and cause them to do evil things. 

My friends remind me that it was real.  More than 20 people experienced this night with me.  They heard the crashing in the woods.  They saw the agony my body went through as the demons were forced out.  Their prayers are the reason I could experience what I did. 

Even if I would have experienced this alone, I could not have denied the power of God at work.  In one night, I was transformed from a young man addicted to pornography to someone who has never looked at pornography again. In one night, my priorities, my reasons for living, my goals, my dreams and my ambitions all changed.  Instead of guilt and shame, there is peace and hope.  Instead of condemnation, there is love.  Instead of fear, there is confidence.  I have been REDEEMED.

Who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son.  Colossians 1:13 - KJV