You may have asked yourself, “Why did I choose Lazarus for the title of this story?”  Well actually, there has never been a time when defibrillation maneuvers were needed to revive my heart, no incident of choking, nor was there ever mouth-to-mouth resuscitation performed on me.  I was never dead in the natural sense of the word, but oh how clearly do I remember the time when I had abandoned everything that is associated with normal life and living.  My soul was dying; and each day, I realized that if something drastic didn’t happen I would be physically dead as well.  I was in serious trouble, I knew how I got there, but I had no clue how to get my life back.  
 
June 10, 1973, graduation day!  For me this day meant freedom from rules, freedom from school, and freedom from that boring Church!   I was grown, so I thought, and didn’t need anyone to tell me where I could or couldn’t go or who with.  I was tired of never being able to go out with other people my age; except for the “ones at church”.  I   wanted something different for my life, after all, my parents didn’t know anything about having fun, or even having friends, they just wanted me to go to school, come home, and not get pregnant!  

I had been dating my daughters’ father for a year, against my mother’s wishes.  She didn’t think he was the right young man for me.  My mother couldn’t be more wrong, so I thought.  I believed she felt that way about all young men I wanted to date, and I was determined not to let her stop me from being with him.  Graduation was the night for all restrictions to be lifted……

The memory of that night became a blur in my mind, as I was awakened by my daughter saying, “Ma, Ma, wake up!”  Trying to raise my head, I discovered that my face felt wet and cold.    As I focused my eyes on my daughter, I could see the expression of disgust, once again on her face.  This time it was different somehow, there was no sadness in her eyes, only disgust.  She took my purse from my lap, got some money from it, tossed it back on the table, and left.  I was still disoriented to say the least.  Rising up from my stupor, I looked around the room from where I was seated at the kitchen table.  The sun was shining brightly through the kitchen window, one beam of light, directly into a plate of food that sat in front of me.  To my horror I realized that the cold, wet feeling on my face was food.  I must have fallen asleep; face first, onto my plate, and had been left there all night. 
 
On many occasions I had been so exhausted from smoking crack cocaine for days without stopping, 24/7,  that when I finally sat down for a moment, my body would simply collapse, I guess it was like being in a mini- coma.  Sometimes I would sleep 24 hours straight thru to the next day.   My daughter would usually wake me up, especially if I was in the process of passing out while eating to stop me from falling out of the chair or worse.  She didn’t this time.
 
I was so ashamed.  I felt even worse when I thought about the look in my beautiful daughters’ eyes.  What had I done to her?  What had I done to myself!?
I got up from the table to wash away the food that was smeared across my face.  For the first time in years, I slowed down just enough to stop and take a good long look at my self.  I was compelled to be still.  When I looked in the mirror I was horrified at what I saw. 

I looked like a skeleton.  You could see every bone in my skull.  My face was a dull grayish color; my eyes had dark circles around them and were sunken in, like two black emotionless marbles; staring back at me.   All I could do is cry.  As the tears streamed down my face, I could feel my soul cry out.  I sobbed uncontrollably in the confines of my bathroom but there was no comfort; no escaping what I saw in the mirror.  I lay on the bathroom floor for hours.   I was afraid that if I walked out the door, the phone would ring, or someone would stop by… then I’d be off to the races again…. I would use.

I finally got up off the bathroom floor.  I knew my daughter would be home soon, and I had to pull myself together; or at least appear to be together.  I took a hot shower, then went to my closet to get a fresh change clothes, everything I put on was too big.
Nothing fit!  I had lost so much weight.  When did this happen?  Had I been so caught up in the madness, that I didn’t realize what was happening around me or to me?  The answer was obvious.   I wanted to do something ‘motherly’ so I went downstairs to prepare dinner.  I don’t remember the last time I had cooked a meal.  Lately my daughter always asked for money to eat Chinese or McDonalds.   There was hardly anything in the refrigerator except some shriveled up onions and leftover Chinese food.  I found a box of spaghetti and two cans of tomato paste in the cupboard.  That would never do.  I ran out of the house and jumped into the car to head for the neighborhood grocery store.  My daughter would be home soon so I was rushing through the isles throwing anything in my cart that I remembered my daughter liked.  “Marilyn, is that you?”  I looked up and there stood in front of me an old friend of mine. 

We used to get high together quite often.   I hadn’t seen her in a while.  Of course friendships established on the base of crack never lasted; when the money and get high was gone so were the friends; so I hadn’t given her absence from the scene much thought, but there was something different about her.  She looked healthy and happy.  Happy, without drugs!?  Did that combination exist?   She had gained weight, and her skin looked almost radiant.   “How have you been?” she asked as she reached closer to give me a hug.  “OK”, I answered.   I felt uncomfortable somehow being hugged so I pulled back “I’m in a hurry, call me”, I managed to mutter as I hurried out of the isle. 

It seemed like everyone was staring at me, were they staring because I looked like the walking dead, or could they see the mess my life was in, I became paranoid and hurried out of the store. I threw the bags into the trunk and got into the car.  As I put the key into the ignition and glanced at myself in the rearview mirror, I kept thinking of how good my girlfriend looked.  The way we used to smoke together, she should look like me I thought.  Everyone that I got high with looked like me.  I thought she was locked up or something, that’s why I hadn’t seen her for so long.  I thought, that’s the only way she could possibly stop getting high. The thoughts about my girlfriend flew out of my head when I realized what time it was.  I got home and headed for the kitchen and started to prepare dinner.  I almost felt human again because I was doing something besides getting high in my bedroom.  I really wanted to do something good for a change for daughters’ sake. 

I could hear the key turning in the door.  It was my daughter.  She had to have seen me in the kitchen; you can’t avoid passing the kitchen before going up the stairs, but she never came toward me, she just continued to go to her bedroom.  At first I was angry, how rude of her!   I’m doing such a nice thing for her; this is the thanks I get.   As I headed up the stairs behind her, I heard a voice saying, “Why are you angry?  Haven’t you done this before?  Why should she believe in you?”  At that moment the room was still.  My heart started pounding.  I knew what the voice was saying was the truth.  Could it be God speaking to me?  Imagine that. After all these years of getting high and all the things that go along with that lifestyle, God would take the time to speak to me!?  I sat down at the kitchen table and began to think back on some situations and circumstances when I had heard that voice before.  Like the time I was buying drugs and that voice told me to get out of there; and the next day I found out that the place had gotten robbed and two people were killed.  The more I thought, the clearer my mind became and I could remember many other times that voice had spoken to me. 

It was at that moment I realized I had abandoned everything and everyone that had real value in my life; my daughter, my family, Christian friends, but most importantly, I had abandoned God.   It was God, who had been with me; never leaving me.  How else would He know when to save me from all the dangerous situations I allowed myself to get into, if he weren’t there He must have been watching; looking out for me protecting me.  He protected my daughter.  God was a mother to her when I wasn’t around.  The only thing I ever did was neglect her.  It was hard to believe He would help me now, after the hundreds of times He saved me from only He knows what!   I ran from God every chance I got, and when I’d cry out, He was right there!  I never thanked him, I never looked in His direction, and when He stood me upon my feet, I took off running at the first sign of daylight in the opposite direction. 

I felt too ashamed to ask for help again.  I wanted to run out of the house; and as I grabbed my purse and keys, I heard it again; that soft voice, only louder this time like my father used to sound when I was a little girl, “Be still”.   I sat on the sofa and began to cry out to God.  All I could say was, “I’m sorry”.  I don’t know how long I had been sitting there but I felt a hand on my shoulder.  It was my daughter.  She didn’t say a word.  She hugged me.  I had never felt a hug like that before.  In my daughter’s gentle touch I could feel her forgiveness.  It was like Jesus had come Himself to rescue me from the Hell my life was in.

That day was the beginning of the turning point in my life.  I took time for me to accept that Jesus really loves a sinner like me.  Every day Satan reminded me that I must have committed the unpardonable sin and that my efforts to change were in vain.  Satan is a liar!!   He has lied to me from the beginning of my addiction.  Satan told me that I could only find happiness in drugs.  A lie!  I have joy, yes unspeakable joy in my life today thru Jesus Christ who has delivered me despite my disbelief, my lack of faith and my multitude of sin.  I have a wonderful relationship with my daughter and my family.  I love Jesus and have given my life to Him.  I tried living in sin, and I realize that no matter what type of sin it is, it is still sin, and that’s Satan’s desire for my life; a sure path to death! 

My life today is not the perfect life.  I have made mistakes, but I am not ashamed to admit them.  I know that God loves me and will help me to over-come them.  My life is better that I ever imagined it would be.  It can only get better.   I thank God for my Lazarus experience, for now I know without a doubt that with Jesus Christ in my life, all things are possible!

By Marilyn Whitley