Does any one person really matter?

I read this and I looked at my life at a different perspective in the few minutes that I read it. I just had to share.

Faith, Sigh, and DIY

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(This was a difficult post to write; it might be diffiuclt to read. Just wanted to give you a heads-up.

Does any one person matter? If the world has one less person, does it make a difference?

Really, does it?

If you’re one of those people who thinks your life doesn’t matter in the scheme of things, so why not end it, I’m here to tell you, you do matter. You do matter to this one who is typing right now. You matter to me because you matter to God. And unless you’ve been living in a cave, you matter to at least one other person. That someone else will forever be changed by your absence. God, Himself, will forever grieve your loss.

One person leaving this world by their own hand means that Evil won. You can call that evil whatever you want but evil it is. Evil leaves…

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5 thoughts on “Does any one person really matter?

    • I read it during one of the moments when I felt like my efforts were fruitless and it made me realize that it not in valn and I should never tire. Thank you or sharing. Be blessed.

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  1. I am grateful you, Simon and Rebecca, are both present in this post, for I wanted to leave a reply to each of you but I tend to be a bit wordy so my words consume a good chunk of time. Not that both of you are not worth that time, for the opposite is certainly true but chronic illness restricts my time.

    That feeling of utter exhaustion that defies succinct definition, due to all its contributors, pervades our being like a cancer. If we are Christians, we are not attacked less by Satan. No, instead we are attacked more if we choose to follow the savior. In my youth, I was confused by many of the passages of scripture and there were some stories within it that I hated because they seemed cruel, unjust, and unloving. There are still some I struggle with even though now I can discern the blessings that can be had from understanding the story. One such teaching that made me very angry was when the apostles wrote to the young churches telling them to rejoice if they were being persecuted or suffering. I could not wrap my mind or heart around this teaching because it was counter intuitive. In my adolescence, I was a ball of raging fury angry at all the injustices and suffering my family and I had endured and continued to endure. I spat the words back at family members who tried to use scripture to comfort me because the words came across as empty to my wounded soul. I vowed that I would never be thankful for my hardships, I would never be thankful for being born with a chronic ailment that made each day a living hell, I would never be thankful for the poverty and hunger suffered by my mother and sisters after my parent’s messy divorce, I would never be thankful for being tormented by school mates and ostracized by peers, I would never be thankful for being violated by my father and then two uncles, who stole my innocence. No, thankful was not in my vocabulary. I was a Christian even in my youth but that fact made my anger grow more intense because I felt God had abandon me. No matter how much good I did, regardless of my dedication to taking care of my sickly mother, or the physical suffering I endured, it appeared I was shouting into a void, to a God who had turned his back on me.

    I prayed from the time I was a child until well into my third decade for God to take my life so that I would not wake to face another day. Everyday I awoke, anger and resentment burned within me because I was still here. That is when I began flirting with the idea of getting the job done that God could not or would not do. One night, as a teenager, both my sister were out with friends and I was home with my mother. I had just finished up the dinner dishes when I decided that this was it, tonight would be the night and if God rejected me upon my death then how much worse could hell be than the life I were enduring? I took a large knife and went into the woods behind the shack we were renting. I argued with God and spat my anger at him as sat there holding the knife to my wrist. My anger turned to anguish because no matter how hard I tried to penetrate my skin to allow my life’s blood to drain, He would not allow the blade to sever my skin. I tried very hard but my efforts were in vain. After my sobs subsided, in my exhausted anger I told God, “fine, if you want me here then you better use my life for something good!” Thankfully, our heavenly Father is big enough to take our brokenness and embrace us in his love even if we are shouting and kicking the whole way.

    I would love to say that my life became easier, that I became wonderfully successful, financially secure, and that my chronic illness had been miraculously healed but that would all be a lie. If anything, life became even more difficult and challenging. I used my anger as fuel to get through college while taking care of my Mom and working two jobs. I graduated with high marks despite my dyslexia, got a teaching job and thought my life was about to finally change for the better and that all my hard work and perseverance were going to pay off. I believed my faith would be rewarded. Well, that was My plan, not God’s plan and to prevent this post from becoming a book I will attempt to sum up. While there were certainly blessings along the way, hardship and suffering never left my doorstep. Between 2000-2004, I tried to kill myself several times because the holistic, pervasive suffering was too much to bear. In 2004, I ended up promising God and my family that I would never try to kill myself again and I haven’t although the thought of paradise is so alluring. The difference came when I stopped seeing how the world and its cruelty affected my life and started focusing on how my life was supposed to be affecting the world. We are all created for a reason, a mission ordained by God, and I feel that if we halt that journey prematurely then our mission failed and another will have to be prepared to fulfill it. In my case, another child would have to endure the horrible suffering I had in order to come to the understanding that I now possess.

    You see, I am thankful for my hardships and suffering today. Don’t get me wrong, I do not like them and I would rather not have had any of them or continue to have them but thankfulness is not about how a situation makes us feel. I am thankful for each and every hardship because God has allowed me to use all of them to help others upon their journey. He knit the strength that I would need to endure this life into my being knowing the path he was going to ask me to take. He knew that, with him, even in my anger that I would survive and allow him to make something good come from all the bad.

    My life has not and will not get any easier. My condition worsens and the pain and disability increases, my heart has been torn asunder more times than I care to remember, and even with a masters degree I am living in poverty still. I wasn’t created to have a happy go lucky life without a care in the world. My journey, my purpose was/is to help others who do not have the strength to get up when they fall upon their own paths. I pray for wisdom, strength, discernment. I pray he will sustain me and continue to allow me to use all the hardships in my life to lighten another’s burden to some degree. I pray to see the slivers of paradise he sends our way even in the darkest of nights. Someone looking at my life from the outside in would not believe everything I have endured and overcome. Fewer still, would have stuck around to live a life that promised more pain and I am not patting myself on the back because if God had not stayed my hand then I would not be here. Each and every day is a struggle and a victory and I am thankful that he has chosen me to bear these burdens and not my sisters. They each have strong faith as well but my anger may never have turned to thankfulness if I had to watch either of them suffer the life I have lived. God knows what he is doing. Now when a new challenge arises, I know Satan is trying to stop me because God is working on something he doesn’t want to see materialize. Every life matters, each and every one. Thank you for indulging me the time and space to voice my thoughts. May God bless each of you richly this day and forevermore.

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    • Hi Tina.

      I read your comments three times and every time I finish I still find myself without words that I can truly use express myself because just by reading it my whole life flashed right in front of my eyes and all I could see was how God has been faithful all along. Yes there has been ups and downs but all in all you’re still here and he still remains present in your life.

      I’d like to thank you for sharing your story. I’m so sorry that you have been through so much and also about your sickness. I’ll be sure to keep you in my prayers and close to my heart. I really admire your courage and most of all your confidence in God and the fact that this makes your story such an encouragement. Once again thanks for sharing.

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      • Hello Simon,

        I am grateful my story can serve as a positive influence upon others lives. I covet your prayers and thank you greatly for them. You are correct, this life is difficult for everyone is some manner and I do not know how folks who reject God get through it. You have my prayers as well. May God bless you richly as you strive to lead the lost.

        Liked by 1 person

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