TIM E HOLDER

I remember a line from Pretty Woman when Julia Robert’s character says, “The bad stuff is so much easier to believe.” And it makes sense that Satan would use the bad stuff about us to keep us in a state of feeling less than what the Lord has planned for us to be. And the enemy has done a masterful job of convincing us through media,  that we are not, and can never be the ideals that our culture has set up as symbols of success.

Even though we read verses that tell us we can praise God because we are fearfully and wonderfully made, (Psalm 139:14), or that we are the light of the world, and that we are a city on a hill that cannot be hidden. (Matthew 5:14). Or that we will shine among them like stars in the sky, (Philippians 2:15).  We can read the blessings from the greatest book ever written, and we can even believe them for others. But, sometimes, it’s so hard to conceive that it was meant for us.

I think it’s because we tend to see ourselves through eyes of betrayal and hurt and rejection, which forces us to  strive for approval and  perfection.

James 3 is the balm, the cure for this wild, wanton killer we all have,  called the tongue. James 3 says, “With our tongues we bless God our Father; with the same tongues we curse the very men and women he made in his image. Curses and blessings out of the same mouth. My friends, this can’t go on.” James goes on to make it excrutiatingly clear that if we choose wisdom, we must live well, and wisely, and humbly, and that a holy life is characterized by being gentle and reasonable, overflowing with mercy and offering blessings.

A while back, I ran into a guy I haven’t seen in a few years. We talked for a few minutes and he said, “You know what I remember most about you?” My mind began to race. What did I say to this guy that was rude or unkind? He said, “Once, you asked me if I would run the pro-presenter program for the lyrics at church. I was scared to do it. And instead of forcing me to do it by insisting that I COULD do it, you said, ‘you do have permission to say no.’ That has freed me up on many occasions to not be bound by my need to always say “yes.” What a small, insignificant thing I said. That became a blessing for this man? We have no idea how one small  word of affirmation can change a life permanently. The interesting thing for me is that a worship pastor for another church reminded me that I told him the very same thing. And it set him free to not feel responsible to say “yes” to everything.

Blessings are obviously a very big thing in the Bible.  When Jacob wrestled with God, Jacob refused to let him go until God blessed him.  “Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.” 1 Peter 3:9 

I wonder if there is a space between curse and blessing. If there is even neutral ground. Or if everything is either a blessing or a curse in varying degrees of power.

Sometimes, I may be walking down a street and see a child walking hand in hand with a parent and I feel a prompting from the Holy Spirit to pray for them.  And I quickly, quietly pray that the Lord would bless that child and place them in places where they will rise up to be world changers for His glory.  I may even pass an acre of ground and pray that the Lord will bless that place and consecrate it for his glory. 

And sometimes, we may give a blessing to someone that is a direct word from God, even if it’s hard to deliver, that will set a person’s life on a path straight to a deeper relationship with the Lord.

I may have talked to you about a guy I mentor at the prison I volunteer for. His name is Devin. He is in prison for murder. Although the death was indeed an accident, and because he was strung out on drugs and alcohol during his interrogation, his lies and deceit after the accident sealed his conviction. Devin wrote out his inventory when he went through a CR step study about 7 years ago.  Normally, at the most, a persons inventory can be 10 to 15 pages long. Devin’s was 320 pages long. He gave me permission to write his story into novel form. One of the chapters is very hard. But, I believe it was a divine appointment from the Lord, speaking directly to what Devin needed to hear the most. 

 “It’s all still pretty surreal to me, looking back.

Within my first week in county jail I was placed in isolation for observation because of my history of suicide attempts. This was all too much for me to withstand. I made another attempt at taking my own life. This is the one that changed my life forever.

Why would you ever put someone on suicide watch and provide the means necessary to kill himself? When I was locked down, I was provided all the amenities that the standard inmate is provided upon intake. This included a towel, a mat,  a blanket, and a uniform. An inmate on suicide watch is provided none of those things. The suicide smock and a hard concrete bed are as good as it gets.

I was on my third day of lock down, October 13, 2009. I decided that I truly could not take the horror my life had become anymore.

I previously told you  the story of two other serious attempts on my own life, all of which were by hanging. And all failed miserably.

I’m not sure why I chose hanging. Maybe it was all I could think of besides blowing my brains out. But by the time I made my first attempt on my own life I lost my pistols due to incidents like running up in peoples houses and brandishing a weapon like some sort of cowboy.

Plus, have you ever seen an attempted suicide by gunshot go wrong? I have. And Lord knows that’s no way to live.

Maybe on some subconscious level I felt an overwhelming kinship to Judas Iscariot. No loyalties to anyone except myself. And that in itself became too much to withstand. My literary style might lead you to believe that I am making a joke of the situation. Granted, some of the predicaments I have been in are worthy of being made a laughing stock. However, suicide attempts are taboo.

Without this particular incident, though, I’m not sure I would have come to recognize God’s true existence. I am like doubting Thomas. I thought I believed at one point in my life. Those days were long behind me. It was going to take me seeing God face-to-face before I truly believed.

And that is just what God had in store for me. I don’t remember a lot about the incident. Just tying the knot in the blanket. The guards left the food slot on the door open. I tied off one end of the blanket through the food slot to the handle on the outside of my cell door.  I tied the other end of the blanket around my neck and sat down on the floor.

Strangulation is an unpleasant way to go. But once unconsciousness comes and darkness slips over you, it is peaceful. It’s the period up to the blacking out that is unpleasant. The knowledge you are choking, that your body is starved for oxygen, that is the hard part.

As I said, I don’t remember a great deal past sitting down. I’m guessing in the process of choking I thrashed around and smashed my face into the wall. When the deputies revived me I had blood all over the place, including myself.

Yeah, I almost made it this time. I slipped off into that long good night, that beautiful darkness, only to come to surrounded by two deputies performing first aid.

The next thing I really remember is pulling into the ER and going through the front door on a stretcher.

I had been here just 10 days earlier with my girlfriends daughter’s lifeless body in my arms. My reality started truly caving in on me when I realized that the ER technicians were putting me into the exact same room she was originally in. They lifted me from the stretcher and placed me on the exact same bed she was in.

That’s when the collapse of all things temporal happened. I lost my bearings and began to sob hysterically at my recognition of this place. It felt like some sick joke being played on me. Truly, it felt like I had entered the first circle of hell. The one Dante forgot to mention. Hell on earth.

In my panic attack, I came to notice several nurses walking in and out of the room. The other patient who was initially in the room with me was moved to another location. My police escort and I were the only ones left in this room. All these nurses I noticed were huddled up outside the nurses station, which is right outside of my room,  all talking and pointing in my direction. Of course, they knew who I was. For a week I was front-page headlines, all over news broadcasts from Tulsa to Little Rock. The fact is, in a small town, news spreads like wildfire. And it burns out slowly. My crisis of faith began, my deus ex machina. 

A short, kind of portly man walked into the room and it was obvious he was the doctor. You can always pick a doctor out from a crowd of nurses. They display a certain “take charge” demeanor that gives them away.

This doctor had a very unpleasant look on his face though. It was not a look of anger or even of resentment. I couldn’t place the emotion tied in with his look, but it was obvious discomfort. I believe it was a form of fear. The fear of facing a monster. The fear Ananias had when God instructed him to go to the apostle Paul and heal his blindness. Even with God on his side, Ananias was afraid of a blind helpless Paul, because his reputation obviously preceded him. Such was the case with me. I lay handcuffed to this bed under the supervision of an armed police escort. This doctor knew there was something definitely not right. But he proceeded anyway and what he said to me changed my life forever. 

Now listen closely. I’m not going to get all “I had a revelation from God” or whatever. But that night I had myself a good old-fashioned “come to Jesus” meeting in it’s purest form. I laugh at Old Testament stories and the misconception movies like “The Ten Commandments” make about God’s voice. It is not some booming voice that comes over the intercom like an elementary school principal reading your daily lunch menu and saying the Pledge of Allegiance every morning. Not saying he can’t or he won’t go that route. But I have come to understand, for me, God prefers more subtle ways of communicating because that is the most effective.

I believe God sends messages through people just like you and just like me. So this doctor calmly walked up to my bed and looked down on me.  He said, “Look son, I know who you are.  And I need you to understand…it’s not your time to go yet.  God is not ready for you yet.  He has some sort of plan for you.  I do not know what this plan entails.  But, it’s obvious it does not consist of your dying yet.”  He also informed me that he went to church with Alexis’ family and that more people than I could conceive were praying for me specifically. 

To me that was as good as showing me the holes in Jesus’ hand and the wound in His side.  I know you probably expected some tunnel with bright lights and a booming James Earl Jones type voice.  And if you were, I’m sorry my encounter with my God has let you down.  It was not some ‘Wizard Of Oz’ theatrics. But I believe in the depths of my heart that my personal Savior knew exactly what I needed to believe.  It was Him.”

Devin is now a senior counsellor at the Substance Abuse Program at the prison and basically the leader over 4 barracks of inmates.  Next month, he will begin his 7th Celebrate Recovery step study since I’ve known him and has never, in those 7 years, missed one single class.  His dream is to one day finish his college degree, even in prison, and then pursue his master’s in substance abuse. The government has recently set aside money for select inmates to receive scholarships for college education. Devin has been told he is a shoe-in for one of the 4 scholarships for his unit. His goal is to lead others away from the place he has found himself and toward a healthy, deep and abiding relationship with the one who has blessed him, Jesus Christ.