Beginning of the Rest of My Life

Lauren Couch

Shepherd

English Composition 1

October 14, 2010

Beginning of the Rest of My Life

We pulled into our hotel in the early evening. The darkness of the night was beginning its descent upon us. We grabbed our bags and darted into the hotel, shielding ourselves from the blistering cold breeze. The weekend would be full of sightseeing, music, and some pretty amazing speakers. At least this is what we were told before we signed up for this trip.

The air in the early spring is chilly. The frigidness of winter is still clinging in the air while the sun is trying to provide some warmth. A family of youth and youth leaders drove in mini vans from Northern Kentucky to Chicago, Illinois for a youth conference called Dare2Share. As with many conferences like this it’s easy to get excited when you’re leaving your small town for such a large place like this.

After a day of sightseeing at, we jumped into the car and drove off towards the convention center. Since I was one of the older youth I got the privilege of riding in the front seat. Ryan looked over at me and asked, “ Are you ready?” I gave him a puzzling look, unsure of what his comment was supposed to mean. We walked into the arena and found some seats near the stage; it was about the size of a small football stadium. The floor was home to t-shirt sales and the Broadway sized stage. Soon one of the bands began to play, the mass of people became one voice as we sang, we were getting our hearts ready for the message that was to come. The whole time we were singing I was still trying to decipher the message behind his comment. I began to think maybe it means nothing, maybe he was just trying to make conversation, but something told me that was not the case.

The music began to wind down and the speaker came out onto the stage. He gave some welcoming words and told us he would like to share with us a skit that is performed at all of their conferences across the country. They took a few minutes to prepare the stage for the show. He then asked for all distractions to be removed or turned off. I sat back in my chair and felt the wool of the itch my skin; distractions would be hard to get away from. Suddenly, I knew why Ryan asked if I was ready, and I knew that ready was not the word I would use to describe how I was feeling. The fact that the speaker got that serious over removing distractions and focusing only on the skit proved to me that conviction was coming, and it would either irritate me or hit me deeply.

The year before this trip I had been on a spiritual low. I had threatened to leave the church and never look back. At this point my reasoning for being a follower of Christ was because it was expected of me, it was nothing more and nothing less. I was going through a difficult time in my life, and I was struggling with depression and it was causing me to take my pain out on myself. This was hindering me from going any further in my Christian walk and it began to take precedence over my faith. Because of my struggles the head youth pastor, Ryan, was my confidant and he knew the way I thought and the things that I was dealing with.

As soon as the lights dimmed I looked over at Ryan, the expression on his face was that of compassion as he offered a quick half smile. I turned my attention to the stage where there was what looked like a girls bedroom. There was a door that led to what I imagined, a closet, and another that led to the hallway. The room was painted lime green and the bed was made in pink. Sitting on the bed was a teenage girl, probably around the age of seventeen.  She sat on her bed with her head resting in her hands, weeping. She was mumbling words in between her sobs, words that know one could understand. At that time her parents came in harassing her, offering the girl her medications. She took the bottle and begged her parents to leave. She continued to sit on her bed and weep.

My attention was directed to the screens behind the set. On these screens were flashbacks of her life. They showed her shooting up drugs after school, her fighting with an abusive boyfriend, and her causing self inflicted wounds. These were some of the things she was struggling with, and the things that were holding her back. Soon there was a sound of pounding. The sound was coming from the door leading to the closet. You could see the door shaking as if there was a wild animal behind it. The girl began breathing deeply, terrified of the noise. Her parents reentered the room but this time they were acting very different, they were offering her the very things she was struggling with; razor blades, drugs, and her medication for her depression. They began laughing like hyenas and enjoying every second of the torture they were showing this poor girl. They shouted her name, pleaded for her to give in to all her temptation. All the while the door was banging, looking as if it were about to come off the hinges.  Despite the horror she felt of the closet she retreated there, the taunting was becoming too much to bear. She opened the door and a bright light shown from the door and a man walked out, he extended his hand in front of him and the taunting stopped. Her parents lie on the floor and she sat curled in a ball on the floor next to her bed. He came close to her and embraced her. He comforted her for a while and another video was shown. This one telling how the devil used her parents to tempt her and the man was God, calming the storm and ending her torment. It explained how God has angels and the Devil has demons. The demons took over her parents’ bodies to try to persuade her to further herself from God and push herself towards suicide. It was an exaggerated example of how the devil can use other people and problems you deal with to bring you further from God, but God will always be there banging on the door waiting for you to let him calm the storm.

As I attempted to take in all that I had just witnessed, I sat motionless weeping more than I think I have ever wept in my life. The character in this skit had just played my life on the stage for 3000 people to see. This characters name was Lauren, she was seventeen years old, and she struggled with the exact same things as I did. Although I never did drugs nor was I in an abusive relationship. I did deal with the other parts of this story. There was a moment of silence where not one word said by the crowd, the characters, or even the people in charge of the conference. We just sat in the darkness, left to imagine the relevance it would carry in our lives. I turned to Ryan and looked at him, he too was crying. Suddenly the man telling us that we were dismissed broke the silence. I wiped the tears from my face and began the trudge to the van. My heart was heavy and my mind was frantic.

A few hours passed and I was still sitting alone in my hotel room. The other girls were in the hallway acting as if nothing had happened, laughing and having races down the hallway. A knock on the door put my thoughts to a halt. I got up and opened the door to see Ryan standing there with an odd expression on his face. He asked, “we need to talk do you mind?” I looked at him and nodded and followed him the end of the hallway where we sat on the floor near the elevators. We sat in silence for a few moments when he broke the silence by saying this.

“I know that was hard for you too see. I want you to know that I wouldn’t have taken you if I didn’t think you could handle seeing it. I am very careful at what I let my students hear and see. I contacted Dare2Share before I arranged for us to be here. I asked them what they would be teaching and how they would be teaching it. They described to me this skit and I was in shock at how close it was to what you have been telling me about yourself. I even asked them to change the name of the character but they couldn’t do it. I hope it wasn’t to much for you?”

All I could do was cry. He waited for me to calm down. I replied telling him this, “It wasn’t to much to handle but it was very close. My life was just put on a stage for that whole conference to hear and I don’t know what to think about it.”

As we sat and talked for an hour, he made sure I was okay, and we talked about what we thought about the skit. At that point being able to talk to someone about the chaos crowding my mind was refreshing. We were about to retire to our rooms when I felt like there was one thing I still needed to say.

“I wasn’t going to even come you know. My brother had to talk me into coming. I want to thank you for bringing me, even if it made it more difficult. I have been praying for help for the past six months and he never provided me with what I needed. I was still struggling with the same things and feeling the same way. So I told God, last week that I didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. But he showed me tonight that he did hear me all that time. It just wasn’t time yet. I decided to take him back tonight. I realized that he doesn’t live on my terms but I live on his time and his way.”

He looked at me and told me that he was proud of me. He made sure I knew that he was there if I needed help and that even if I still struggled God would still be there to comfort me when I messed up, that I just have to let it go and move on. This was the first day of the rest of my life.