Out of Place

 

Relating with others is relatively easy. Fitting in with others is more complex.

Most of my life I have wanted to "fit in" with other people. But the problem with that is I usually have to become like those around me. I have to "go along" in order to "get along" with others.

In my youth, many of my "peers" saw me as an outcast, a freak, a loser and a weird-o. I know this to be true, because they told me as much! So at age sixteen, fed up with all the rejection, I attempted suicide. Turns out, God had other plans for me.

Sick and tired of trying to play by the rules, I became a chameleon. When I played the roll of 'follower' and stuck to the script, I found myself being accepted. But it wasn't by those who played by the rules. It was by those who broke the rules and did whatever they felt like doing.

After a time, I became addicted to the attention and acceptance of those whom I was imitating. But I had to let go of who I was, in favor of  'belonging'. That was a steep price to pay, because it kept me from becoming the person God created me to be. It destroyed me from the inside-out. It cost me my innocence. I became corrupt to the core. Instead of caring for others, I learned to use and manipulate people to my purpose and advantage.

I deliberately cut myself off from 'the light of life'. For it was the only way I could do the things I did and not feel any guilt or remorse. I anesthetized myself with sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll. I immersed myself in the youth culture of the day and casted all my cares to the wind. I thought I was gaining the world, but in all truth I was sealing my fate. I wandered in the wilderness of spiritual depravity for thirty years. I not only caused great spiritual harm to myself, I also did great damage to those who believed I actually cared for them.

A couple of months prior to my forty-sixth birthday, I reached the end of myself. My heart and soul were so full of darkness and depravity, I could no longer tolerate my lifestyle. I wanted to die, but I didn't want to die in my misery - and I was extremely miserable! To go on to the bitter end was not an option, for that would mean that my life never had any meaning or purpose - and I didn't want to die like that. So I sought help.

Early in my recovery from my spiritual malady, my new-found mentor encouraged me to attend church. It was what worked for him and many others who were once like I was then. He helped me to understand that attending meetings in a worldly fellowship that was loosely founded upon biblical spiritual principles would prove insufficient in the long run. At the time I didn't understand nor appreciate his suggestion, but I knew I needed all the help I could get, so I acquiesced. 

I decided to attend the church he pastored, because I wanted all the healing, peace, and serenity that he had found on his journey of spiritual recovery. And while I really didn't want anything to do with God at that time, he made it clear that God was the only one who could and would heal me from my spiritual malady -- if I was willing to let Him.

It has been twenty-four years since I began my journey of spiritual recovery, and I am amazed and grateful for all that my Creator has done in me and for me. The process isn't over yet. I'm still learning and I'm passing along what I have learned with others, so that they, too, may find the peace, forgiveness, and serenity that only God can provide.

The belonging that I desired for so long has become a reality. My life is no longer 'out of place'. And as someone said a long time ago, "It is no longer I that live, but Christ who lives in me." Hallelujah! \o/