“Life is senseless. There’s no meaning. It all comes to nothing anyway, so why not. Yeah! I lost that desire to create something new, and I turned to drowning my sorrows.
And then one day at home watching a ball game while having a few beers and snacks, I looked up and saw the picture hanging on the wall. Back to the ball game and another gulp of beer, I looked at it again. I liked the beautiful oak frame, while Angelia loved the picture. She proudly hung it above the entertainment center, where we couldn’t neglect seeing it every day, as we relaxed watching a movie.
Back and forth, my eyes drifted between the picture and the game. Over and over again. The picture slowly became my focus.
My soul was seeing it as if for the first time. It, that artistic painting for some strange reason, yet now not strange, appeared alive to me. I saw the blood pouring out of his sides, his arms, shoulders, feet, and wrists, the blood dropping to the ground. The blood coming out of those thorns around his forehead, dripping down his cheeks and jaw, mingling with the flow from the other side, gathering on his neck and down to his chest. I saw the lifeless eyes, eyebrows sticking out, and his head hanging low to one side as he is suspended from that wooden cross.
Inside each drop of blood, I began to see videos exploding within each droplet of the wrongs I had committed throughout my life. What I had done to a girl while in the third grade, what I had called schoolmates, my secret transgressions, the lies I told, the items I pocketed without paying, and thousands more including actions I would never have considered as having crossed the line. Still, motion pictures and movies of all my wrongdoings coming alive out of each drop of blood, and then disappearing back into the drops.
I fell to my knees and sobbed. I felt ashamed. I wept. I cried out.
All those wrongs were now wiped away, and I was forgiven. I was healed. I was starting over. A new person. I wept again, this time with joy running over.
Life had meaning again, and I have not felt sorry for myself since His light penetrated my darkness.”
Copied from the book “Log Cabin Escape.”
One Day at a Time 