I grew up in a Christian home. Never did drugs. Always the goodie-goodie. Knew all the right answers. Went to Church every sunday and even sometimes wednesday nights. I was the "perfect" Christian.
My name is Covan, today is my fifty-fifth birthday and I am on my death bed.
I've made decisions in my life that I am not proud of. Everyone thought I would grow up to be something big. I thought I was going to finish college, get a good job, and start a family. I was sadly mistaken. It started when I was just sixteen years old. It was like any other normal day. Woke up, got dressed, went to school, went to tennis practice, and went home.
That night, my friend Dale came over. Dale was a very good friend of mine. Grew up with dale ever since 2nd grade. "Covan, I've never tried this before but I want to try it with you." In his hand he held a little plastic bag with what looked like grass inside. When I took a better look, I knew exactly what it was. "No, I can't! And you shouldn't be doing that either!" I yelled back. He calmly looked at me and said, "I know, but my friends said it doesn't get you hooked. It just feels good." I can still remember the look in his eye when he said his next sentence. "Once wouldn't hurt."
Only if I had never listened to him. He's been with me for as long as I could remember and trusting him was just second nature to me. All those Church sermons, all those adults warning me and warning me and when it came down to it. I gave in.
Only if that was the end. The sad part is, that was only the beginning. When I was with dale, and I did that, everything in the world was at ease. I felt like the world has been lifted off my shoulders and solely relaxed. Dale and I never even talked about it till about a month later when he came up to me and said he had more. I knew it was wrong but I wanted to feel what I felt before. I agreed to do it with him, but on one condition, "This is the last time."
Only if I kept to my word. I lied. That wasn't my last time. As I grew up, Dale and I went to different colleges but still kept in touch. I made a vow to myself that from now on it would be different. I promised God that I would keep His Word, and I would keep close to Him again. And I did do that. I was reading my Bible at least five times a week. I was praying daily. I mean somedays I would skip because I had homework up to my neck.
Only if I didn't just go through the motions. That is exactly what I was doing. Going through the motions just as I did in high school. I slacked off on my reading and occasionally forgot to pray. Actually, I constantly forgot to pray. It just wasn't a priority. It became more of a chore that just took up my time. One night I got invited to a senior only party while I was still a sophomore in college because one of my friends had connections. What I didn't know is that there was going to be that little plastic bag there that had poisened my mind for so long.
Only if I would have learned from my first mistake. That night I did it again. But this time was not like the last time. This was something different. This was, in a sense, stronger. A week later, I craved it. So I had my friend easily get some for me. Before I knew it, I was doing this constantly.
Only if that was enough. But those small amounts weren't enough for me anymore. I did not want anymore. I felt like I needed more. Though I wouldn't admit this to my friends or parents, I needed this. My school work suffered as a consequence, not only that but I was in debt so much that I couldn't even bare it. What's the worst part about my financial issue is that I was spending all the money that I earned on Meth.
Only if I could have said no. I dropped out of college because I just stopped caring about it. It wasn't a priority anymore. My friends that I use to hang out with started to drift apart from me because they said I was a bad influence on them. I didn't listen. I got new friends. Better friends in my opinion. Little did I know I was suffering from higher than normal blood pressure, I didn't have an appetite for much anymore, and just a number of psychotic features.
Only If I would have known sooner. I had my first heart attack ten years ago. Since then, I've had three more. I'm as skinny as a twig. I haven't shaven for months. I don't live in an actual home. It's a beat up, abandoned house that we, other people who I have done meth with, live in. Now, I'm crying out to God.
"God! Where were you? Where are you? Can you even hear me?" I've been clean for a good month now, but I think it's too late for me. I feel as if I can think just a bit more clearly now. I stand up, actually wobble up. I go outside where there is a Church about a mile away. I wish I could go there and just ask for help. Just ask the people there for help or even just ask God for help. I walk, not knowing where I am going. But on the edge of the sidewalk I see a little track on the ground. On the back of this track like paper, it has the verse Matthew 11:28, "Come to me all you who are weary and heavy burdened, and I will give you rest."That's what I want to dearly. Rest. So I ask God for forgiveness. I feel something wet drop down my cheek. I felt as if the whole world was lifted off my shoulders. I felt relaxed.
Only if I knew that God could have filled that hole that I was so eager to fill my entire life. Now it's too late.
My name is Covan, today is my fifty-fifth birthday and I am on my death bed.
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