I wandered far after losing my faith very young. I was a pagan from twenty five to forty seven years old. So far gone I studied it all from wicca to Carl Jung. No matter what I found my spirit remained cold.
The reasons my faith faultered kept me locked in hate. All things ugly found a place in my broken heart. I thought life was about material things, money, food on my plate. I lost everything tangible except what fit in a shopping cart.
God went to great lengths to bring me back into His fold. In the street I ate only if I sat through a Preacher teaching us Gods word. I fought against my narrow view of a Christians mold. Spoke on how Christians were dumb, their beliefs absurd.
Flesh cannot out hold out when God has a path that He clears. I began to open up, my heart and spirit starting to heal. Slowly my walls came down and hope replaced fear. Hungry, cold and wet a winter storm hit and I sat needing a meal.
Headphones on I paid no mind as the Mission filled with people like me. I was interrupted by a man and woman tapping my arm. She told me to pay attention as she felt her words would set me free. I looked into her eyes, I knew she meant no harm.
I listened and felt every word this couple spoke. They told my story from beginning to present day. I knew that life left me the day my spirit broke. I let my guard down and felt His touch as he lighted my way.