On October 29th, 2013 I chose life.  For that day, I chose to live.  A planned suicide to end my life was just a few days away, until a friend challenged me to simply love myself.  I reeled at God for the better part of the morning.  I had been seething at Him for more than a month, and this day I really let all of my anger out.  Anger of how I felt He had abandoned me, watched me be abused both verbally, physically, and sexually.  Angry at how I had obeyed Him in a move to Texas, away from everyone I know and love, and I was suddenly without anyone around.  How no matter the hours I put in at work, I still just barely fell short of my sales goals.  Promises broken. 

   I felt terminal.  That was the word I used.  Terminal.  I understand that word better than a lot of people, I watched my brother die of terminal cancer.  It was the best way to describe the amount of hopelessness that I carried with me.  I had made the decision without emotion or sadness to simply put an end to it all.  Ending my life in nonviolent ways was something I had researched extensively.  I knew exactly what my plan was and I started to execute it. 

    Every time someone would try to throw a Bible verse at me, or a "God lets us go through hard things to grow us", or "You have to have patience and wait on the Lord", I wanted to punch them in the face.  People who are in this place do not need to hear these things.  We've heard them our whole lives.  We have self abused, we have starved ourselves, we have thrown up, we have abused drugs, we have carved into our skin with razor blades, we have laid awake at night willing ourselves to cry only to find there was nothing left.  We need to hear simply that we have worth, and if the only person that we feel can love us, is our self, then we start there. 

    So on the challenge given by the only friend who wasn't throwing out cliche's at me, the only one who wasn't so frustrated with me that they just stopped talking altogether, I decided to love myself by going up a mountain.  Here in South Dallas there is a small mountain, a hill really, that overlooks the metroplex and a lake.  A church at the top of this mountain has built look outs where people can go to pray.  I went there to just breathe for a minute in the middle of the stress of my sales job.  A moment to look out at the city, take a breath, and yell at God some more.  Words started flowing out of me like a river, I didn't think they would stop.  Angry words.  If God had been in human form standing in front of me I would have been pounding on His chest with every syllable.  I went back and forth between hating Him and begging Him to help me.  Then came a text from a friend I hold dear to my heart.  A song he wanted me to listen to.

          "We can make it if we try, All that I am saying is that You're home, You'll never be alone. You're home, You'll never be alone.  You're home.  I can find you home." - Active Child

    Right as the music started coming out of my phone up there on this Prayer Mountain a rushing warm wind enveloped me.  Holy Spirit.  It had been a still day as far as wind.  As soon as it came, it left.  But I was somehow changed.  I don't know if I will ever fully be able to explain what moved inside of me.  But there was a shift.  I chose life.

    As I was coming down the mountain, I put on the song by Gungor, This Is Not The End.  My friend who had sent me the song I had just listened to sent me a text with those words in it at the very moment that I started listening to it.  This is not the end.  This is not the end of me.  Over and over I listened.  I rubbed my fingers over the fresh cut marks on my arm.  Whispering prayers over them that they would heal over quick. 

   Later that night, after going to a Bible study about Jonah, I went to a tattoo shop near my apartment and had "Love" written on my arm over the scars.  There it was. Permanent.  In my own handwriting covering the multitude of sin.  A promise to myself that I would never again slice into my flesh with all of the hate I could muster.  Instead, I decided this was not the end.

   No girl, woman, should ever feel the way that I have felt.  So many of us are broken beyond what we think we can have repaired.  But we're silent about it because speaking out, being honest is even more frightening.  It reveals to others that we're not okay and more often than not when we do reach out we're met with words that just hurt deeper.  Those who do not understand tend to wound all the more, though they are trying to reach out and help in the best way they know how.

    It is my mission.  My passion, that those that are The Screw-Ups, will find that Jesus is Redeeming Us.   That The Unlikely are the desired.  That The Broken will never raise a blade to their skin again.  That The Unwanted will find Love is written not only on their arms, but all over their bodies, inside and outside.  We want to do this through campaigns, going out on the streets and finding the broken, raising awareness that so many hide what they are doing behind closed doors.  We want to be able to provide resources where people can get help.  We want to start a foundation so that voices are no longer hidden, but that every story will be told.  That every life knows it is worth choosing to live.   

   Please join with me to let everyone know, This Is Not The End.