A Key In The Desert

I was 19 years old, and growing increasingly troubled. There were issues stemming from childhood, the recent break-up of an emotionally intense relationship, and the pressure of producing and performing in an upcoming benefit concert for my former high school.

But the main reason for my troubled spirit was my inability to deal with the rejection.

People would come into my life and, even though I would tell them I was just human like every one else and that I was sincerely trying to be the person I was meant to be, they would get to know me and end up throwing me away. It seemed like they had discovered that, even though I was honest and told them I had stuff I was working on, that my words had turned out to be true and now they subconsciously felt that I wasn’t good enough to be in their lives. It seemed as though they felt that they didn’t have time or it wasn’t their job to help me in my journey to become who I was meant to be. That hurt. And I didn’t know how to handle it.

Rejection had piled upon rejection over the course of my high school years and now, at age 19 and just 4 days before the benefit concert, I finally felt powerless. And I gave up.

Heading For The Hills
One of the few places in felt any solace was in the foothills overlooking the city where I lived. I would watch the lights begin to come on as dusk approached, and marvel at the beauty before me. Somehow that beauty had kept me going, giving me a little hope that there was hope for me.

But this night, I drove there powerless, and I knew that I had no hope. I knew that no lights could change that. This night, I drove to the foothills knowing that it was my last night.

My Dad was a wonderful Bible teacher and a wonderful man. He had taught my sister and I from our earliest age about Christ and God’s Word. I knew a lot of it. But it just hadn’t sunk down into my heart. It hadn’t changed me, and wouldn’t for many years. It just served to make me more hopeless because I saw others seeming to live this life with Christ when I felt that I could not. I didn’t understand it at that moment, but I didn't know Jesus at all. He was there with me, and He loved me and protected me, but I didn’t know Him.

And so, I remember sitting in the foothills, watching the lights of the city begin to come to light, even as the light of my own life was flickering out.

“I’m sorry, Jesus,” I told him out loud as I wept. “I know You’re real, but I just can’t take this anymore. It hurts too much, and it never stops. I’m sorry, Jesus.”

I stepped out of my car, closed my eyes tightly, turned around three times in a circle and threw my car keys as hard as I could into the desert, returning to my car seat without ever looking where they might have gone.

I didn’t want to be saved. I didn’t want to change my mind, because I knew that there would just be more pain that would follow that decision. I wanted to be sure that my pain was finally going to end for good.

A Key In The Desert
I sat weeping, drinking my hard liquor and swallowing my pills, and that’s all I remember. The next thing I can recall is waking up in my bed at home, and walking out to find my best friend Ed there waiting for me. Ed loved me, and I could see that he was broken-hearted and scared by what I had done.

But at that moment, I didn’t really care, because I couldn’t figure out why I was still alive. I had planned it perfectly. The alcohol. The amount of pills. And I threw those keys as hard as I could into the desert, and I knew there was no way I could have found them by myself. Why was I still alive?

Ed told me that I had driven to a local convenience store and while there a mutual friend had seen me and been concerned by my behavior. They called my friends and they came looking for me. Meanwhile, I ended up parked in the parking lot of the business where I worked, and my fellow employees called the paramedics.

When it was all said and done, they told me I had about 20 - 30 minutes to live when the paramedics got to me. I was lucky to be alive, they said. Years later, when I had finally come to Christ in my 30s, I asked our Lord how I had made it down from those hills. He told me that an angel had gotten those keys and brought them to me.

Now I know that Jesus intervened that day. I know that I would have spent eternity in hell if He hadn’t. He’s never left me, and never given up on Me. But the story doesn’t end there.

Michelle
2 days later, I got up early. I still wasn’t sure what had just happened to me. I just knew that God wasn’t going to let me die, so I had to deal with things somehow. I went to my car and set out for the local auditorium. Today was the day of the benefit concert and we had a full day of stage set-up and sound checks before we would play ay 8:00 pm that night.

Less than a block from my house and still in my residential area, a little girl who was waiting for her school bus unexpectedly jumped out from behind a hedge and directly into the path of my car.

I remember that she turned around and was looking at me through my front windshield when I hit her. I heard her go underneath my car as I slammed on the brakes.

It was so quiet as I leaped from my car. It was like there was no sound from anything at all. There was total silence as I looked beneath my car and felt sudden terror because I saw no one underneath it. Then the silence was pierced by a scream.

I looked up and standing before me at the side of the street, gripping the chain link fence of the yard in front of her, stood the little girl. Her back was covered with blood. I would find out later that, from her neck down to her ankles, there was no skin on her back. She stood shaking and screaming, and I ran over to her just as the elderly couple whose fence she was holding came out of their house and said “Bring her in here!”

I knew it would hurt her, but I had to pick her up and carry her. There was no other way. And so I set my mind and I lifted her up with my arms around the back of her shoulders and beneath her knees, and I carried her into the house.

The couple had already laid out blankets on their couch and they were calling 9-1-1 as I entered the house and laid the little girl down on the couch.

I remember not caring about anything but that little girl at that moment. I remember not caring about me. I remember not caring about whether or not the couple heard me praying for that little girl. And I remember what I desperately prayed.

Covered with her blood, I prayed “Please help this little girl, Jesus. I know I’m messed up, Jesus, but don't let her get messed up because of me. Please.....”

As I prayed, the little girl stopped screaming, and the paramedics arrived and took her to the hospital.

The elderly couple spoke with the police, telling them they had seen the entire accident, and that there was no way I could have seen the little girl when she ran out into the street. The police agreed. But that didn’t change the way I felt. I was numb. Why had this happened?

Forgotten Little Girl
That day as I worked with the stage crews at the auditorium, I constantly called the hospital to see about the little girl, whose name I was told was Michelle. They kept telling me that she was still in surgery, and there was no word on her condition. By the time we went on stage that night, I still didn’t know if she was going to make it or not.

And that’s all I remember about it. From then on in my life, I was haunted by the fact that I had never gone to see Michelle after the accident, that I had never sought to make contact and tell her how sorry I was.

As I made my way through life in my 20’s, I was descending into a mire of addiction and lies, and the underlying thought that I constantly had was that I was a bad person, that I had tried to end it all and spare everyone but God wouldn’t let me, and that as proof of it all, I hadn’t gone to see Michelle after the accident.

The fact that Christ had spared me from an eternity in hell was still lost on me. Somehow I believed that I was saved because I had said a prayer one time. I believed that I was a Christian, but that I was just lousy at it. I believed that I was a Christian, but something about that seemed so wrong.

What a powerless, hopeless man I had become.

A Light Reserved
Years later, in my early 30s, I hit the bottom and finally accepted Christ. I came to know that I didn’t know Him, and that this was why it seemed so wrong that I considered myself a Christian. Being a genuine Christian was hard, but now I knew that my relationship with Him was for real.

Over several years of Bible study, applied living, and the earnest counsel of elders that God brought into my life, what I had been taught in my childhood came to life through God’s Holy Spirit. I taught Bible studies in my home, as well, and then came a day when my wife and I knew that we were supposed to move. We prayed for the better part of a year, and God told us to move to Ohio.

We departed in our moving truck for Ohio and made a stop in Las Vegas to visit my sister and her family. One night, as my sister and I were talking alone, she said, “You know, I always knew that you would be okay with the Lord someday because of that time with that little girl.” “What little girl?” I asked.

“You remember.” she said, “That little girl who you hit with your car.”

“What?,” I said incredulously, as the shame surged back upon me, unbeknownst to my sister.

“You remember that day when I came to pick you up to go to lunch with you?” she asked. “I remember that you came out of the house with this big stuffed dog. You were quiet and you put the dog in the back of my car and said ‘We need to go somewhere before we go to lunch.’”

I was rapt with attention as she spoke, not remembering a single detail of what she was describing. She continued. “We drove down the street about a quarter of a mile, and you told me to pull over in front of a house and to wait for you. You got out of the car, took the big stuffed dog out and began to walk toward the house. Before you had even reached the door, a little girl came running out of the house to you, calling your name. You hugged her and sat on the front porch steps with her for 20 minutes or so, talking to her. When I saw that that day, I knew that someday you would be okay. That was what was really in your heart.”

I remember asking my sister, “Tell me again?”, because I wanted remember forever what I had heard. I had blocked it all out, you see, because of the overwhelming trauma of those 4 days. I had been overwhelmed by the thought of rejecting that little girl when I myself had been so troubled because others had rejected me. But it wasn't true. I hadn't rejected her. Somehow, in the midst of my pain and years before I would come to know Him, Jesus used me to reach out to that precious little girl.

What a light shined in my heart! How full of hope was I! God had reserved this light and this hope for this very day when I had finally come to know Him and I was following Him to the ends of the earth. He was letting me know that He had always seen what was really inside of me, that He had never given up on me, and that He would always be with me.

The Prayer Of The Powerless
God’s Word tells us that “while we were yet powerless, God sent to His Son to die for our sins.” He has covered us and our sins with His blood. God can take that which was intended for evil and turn it to good. I’m sure that many Christians who are reading this can look back on our own lives and now see the times when - before we had faith - He saved us from ourselves even when we didn’t want to be saved.

If we hold fast to the profession of our faith, the very dire and difficult things in our lives will turn out to be to the furtherance of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

But I need to ask a question of others of you who are reading this. Are you reading this and you feel powerless? Are you without hope? Do you see how God has time and again preserved you to this day, but you wonder “Why?” Do you already know that your sins are many, but you now wish that they could be covered by the blood of Jesus as I have shared here?

Then I ask you to sincerely pray this prayer:

Heavenly Father, I know I’m a sinner. But I believe that Your Son, Jesus Christ, came to this earth, lived a sinless life, and then died upon the cross for the sins of the world, including me. I repent of my sins and I ask for Your forgiveness through Jesus’ sacrifice, Father. Please give me Your Spirit, and make me Your child. In Jesus name, Amen.

If you sincerely prayed this prayer, your journey is not over. It has just begun. You are setting out on a journey to become a disciple of Jesus Christ and to make disciples for Him. You cannot make this journey alone, however. You’ll need Jesus Christ and your fellow disciples to help you - every day.

The next step with Christ is for you to find that home with a local group of believers that He’s reserved just for you. God knows you so well. He has waited so long to welcome you into His family. He will be able to lead you to the right place and to the right people if you’ll just pray and ask for Him to guide you. You’ll be amazed by how plain He can make things.

You have taken the first step on your journey from a powerless life to an endless life in Christ Jesus.

Looking To The Sky
When I was 19 years old, I headed for the foothills because I felt rejected. Isn't it wonderful that, because of God's unwavering love and care for us, His children don’t have to run for the hills in pain anymore?

We look to the sky, from where Jesus will return to gather us together for eternity in the very presence of God.

Only He could save us. Only He can heal our hearts. Only He can enable us to walk with Him and each other in the bond of His love and peace.

You see, it’s true. And it’s true about all of us.

We’re all just human and we’re trying to be the people we’re meant to be in Christ.

Thank you, Jesus, for never rejecting us, for never giving up on us, for having the time to help us in love, and for purposing in Your heart that it was Your job to help us on this journey to become who we are in You.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

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