It was raining. I sat in my car crying, praying to God, asking why He’d let this happen. I’d emotionally given up. It was getting to be too much for me, and I knew I was at my breaking point. Outside the car was what I felt inside.
I’d barely started my new job. Three weeks into training, I was grateful to have found something finally.
No more desperately praying about where my next meal would come from. No more wondering if I was gonna pay rent or make my car payment on time. No more borrowing money from other people and becoming a financial burden on them.
I felt peace and security — things I hadn’t felt in a long time.
I hadn’t hung out with my best friend or gotten a phone call from him in a week, and after our last hang out session, I couldn’t shake off the rebuttal he’d given me about my blunt tactics with everyone. His words wouldn’t escape my mind, and they were very easy to dwell on almost every waking second.
I tried taking ownership of my mind and my emotions, but my best friend’s words were very hard to brush off since my personality is the core of who I am.
It was the last day of the work week, and I had to focus on training at my new job. Everything seemed like it was all finally coming together! Then we had our evaluation day to see how everyone was doing.
One by one, people were called into the supervisor’s office and were evaluated on their work stats. Going into my turn, I felt pretty good, calm, and collected . . .
“If you don’t do better, we will have to let you go from this company.”
That was the last thing I heard after meeting with my supervisor. I felt confused, upset, and back to where I started. How could I be doing so horribly?
I wanna go home.
I couldn’t go back through this whole crap again! I couldn’t go back to being worried every single minute over how to pay for my apartment. I couldn’t go back to not eating for a day or two.
I couldn’t go back to being tempted to selling myself to the first “generous” guy that came my way.
Work ended, and I had to go back home. I felt sick to my stomach, and all these thoughts started flooding my mind. I felt the heavy weight again, and I felt like a total loser.
I wanna go home.
The next day wasn’t any better. Depression hit hard after awakening, and the whispers of my mind started flooding nonstop. It rained all day, and I just lay on my couch feeling so helpless and drained.
I couldn’t keep a job, and I was barely skimming by with the little money I had. The girl I was interested in had rejected me; meanwhile, every one of my friends seemed to be in a relationship, and they all looked like they were well-off.
My best friend had little interest in me, along with my other friends, too.
I couldn’t go into ministry because of my past, and I couldn’t even maintain a small Bible study! I was unable to show my emotions and bottled everything inside! The only way I could show even an ounce of emotion or be completely honest was after having sex!
I wanna go home.
My temptations to have sex with a guy were at an all-time high! Sex was the only way I knew to cope with loss, but I couldn’t do it now — look at how far I’d come!
Now throwing in the wrench of having sexual feelings for a girl, I couldn’t do anything about it! What was I to do?
I was failing at everything a man was supposed to be. I was so confused, and I didn’t know what to do!
So, I got into my car and started driving.
I wanna go home.
I decided to drive up to my spot on the base of the mountain, looking over the gloomy city. I parked at my spot, and I just started to cry. I cried so hard, and in between breaths I prayed.
Why am I going through this? Why did You give me a job, and then start taking that job away?! Why did You give me these feeling for a girl that I can’t do anything about?! I can’t even provide for myself!
Look at me! I can’t count on my best friend who said he’d be there for me. I can’t count on my friends because their lives are more important than mine! I can’t even be honest with my failings because I’m so afraid of being excommunicated again.
You made a mistake. I wanted to be a pastor like my dad, but look at me! I’m a failure! I’m a total failure! You made a mistake in making me. I just wanna go home! I wanna go home. I just want to die and go home!
I sobbed with my arms on the steering wheel, wanting to end my life. I wanted to go back to my apartment and just end it all. I couldn’t take it anymore.
Then, a small whisper from Philippians 1:22-26 rang in my heart:
But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labor; yet what I shall choose I cannot tell. For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Nevertheless to remain in the flesh is more needful for you. And being confident of this, I know that I shall remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy of faith, that your rejoicing for me may be more abundant in Jesus Christ by my coming to you again.
Boom — I snapped out of it.
It was like the Holy Spirit had said the right words to me, giving me the peace that passes all understanding. It was the extra boost I needed to help me along my journey.
I needed to tell someone what happened.
Have you reached the end of your rope financially or relationally? Have you felt sexually stifled to the point of not knowing how to cope?