The Suicide Spirit

My salvation was never based on what others said about Jesus. I didn’t even believe the Bible, not really, until after I met Him. I was genuinely surprised at how I saw the scriptures once I knew Him myself. I was shocked at how my perception changed, as if the whole world had gone from dark to light in an instant. For me it had.

Who do I say Jesus is? He is my rescuer and deliverer, my superhero.

I was sitting in a crowd, alone with many people. But I was not a part of them. I couldn’t be. I was something different. I didn’t belong with them, though I longed to. I wanted to be loved. I wanted desperately to be seen. But I was utterly invisible. That day would be my last. I felt a bit of joy with the decision. I was 15.

The man in the front was going on and on. He was irrelevant to me. A preacher in a suit with stupid hair and arrogance so thick I could barely see him through it. On and on, he spoke words that meant something to all those people but not to me.

Suddenly, awkwardly, he stopped talking. He paused for a few moments and looked around the room seriously. He sighed and seemed genuinely concerned. When he spoke he changed my life.

“The Lord has told me someone in the congregation is contemplating suicide,” he said.
I froze. I’d been seen!
“Who is it?” He asked. “Stand up.”
I did not move, not a muscle. But in my heart I was screaming, “Please, God.”
Did God see me?
He waited patiently. When no one stood up he said, “Well, God knows who you are. We’re going to pray for you anyway.”

The place erupted like a volcano. They prayed for God to break the power of the Spirit of Suicide in Jesus’ name. Hymnals scattered the floor, the crazy people spoke in tongues, all the people I was not a part of lifted me up and they did not even know who I was.

I felt it lift. Dead weight, like a wet blanket, pulled up and away in an instant. What I noticed first was the back of the metal chair I was holding onto so tightly. It was cold. I could feel it. It seemed like I hadn’t really felt anything in so long. I wanted to grab a hold of everything. I wanted to run outside and touch the trees. I wanted to scream and force the new air out of my lungs, the air I could feel for the first time in years. And I loved. I loved the woman with the tambourine behind me. I loved the stupid guy with the glasses in front of me. I loved you.