the story thus far...

Many years ago I began a journey. In my life I have been quite a lot of things. I have worked fast food, retail, sales, labor, construction, etc... I have even been a drug dealer.

that last profession is what is on my mind right now. No, not really the fact that I was a drug dealer, but the ramifications of that. At one point, prior to being an actual dealer, I worked at Taco Tico as a shift manager. This was the Taco Tico at 13th and Tyler across from North West High. We had this girl start working there who was a student at NW, she was also either a cheer leader or pom (whatever they are called... something bears or something like that... give me a break that was seriously over a decade ago)

Anyways, she started working at Taco Tico and, naturally, I was instantly crazy about her because she had this really awesome personality and, of course, she was hot... Yes, I realize I was 19 at the time, which made her off limits... but hey, I was not exactly the type of person who cared at that point. She knew this I think, but nothing ever developed from there.

I would hook her up with stuff (read alcohol and drugs) she wanted and life was good.

One day after homecoming she and some of her friends came in and they were considerably plowed, she ends up hitting her head on the concrete outside when she fell and I distinctly remember holding her trying to keep her awake. I also remember her demanding that I be the one holding her head and hair as she puked nasty booze puke in the ladies room.

We definitely had an interesting relationship.

Eventually Anarchy at Taco Tico found me fired. life moved on and I forgot about this girl. One day after I had promoted myself from user to dealer I ran into her and mentioned that I could hook her up with some good acid and to drop by some time.

She did.

Again I lost track of her and life moved on. I found myself at the end of a steak knife, later lying in a pool of my own blood.

It was at that point that I gave everything to God. That was the turning point for me, in a kitchen, in November 1996 I cried out to Jesus to save me... and He did, quite literally.

Eventually I was running sound for the single group at church and life was good, i was happy, I had friends who loved me and we had a lot of good times. I can remember terrorizing the Village In at 13th and West until all hours of the night, literally getting kicked out.

Then one day there was this woman who joined the singles group. At first she seemed nice enough. Eventually she became quite annoying, she always felt the need to address the group for long dissertations and this drove pretty much everyone up the wall.

It is amazing how God works, really.

One night, she was talking, and like usual I was sitting back int eh sound booth pretty much ignoring. Then my ears perked up and I found myself listening to what she had to say for some reason. Shortly after that she opened up and revealed her biggest sadness.

She had a daughter who was deeply in bad. She was strung out, had been on everything you could name, and had tried to kill herself multiple times. It was truly a sad story about a girl who went way down the wrong road in life.

Then she said the name.

That name rang through my ears, it was a name I had not heard of or thought of in at least a year and a half. Before that it had been at least that long.

Her daughter was this girl I knew. Instantly I was deeply remorseful. I knew that her daughter looked up to me as a brother. I knew that my life had lent to her story, in at least a small way. Suddenly I realized that though I had never physically killed anyone, I was indeed guilty of destroying a life.

I spoke to great length with her mother. I learned that she did indeed look up to me and had actually mentioned me to her mother. This did not really help much, but I knew that it was helping her mother. I expressed my sincerest apologies to her as I felt like I was responsible for her loss.

This was truly the most regret I had ever felt in my life.

She forgave me.

Eventually we went our separate ways and I had somewhat a bit of closure on the entire issue. I know that her mother had found a lot of peace about the issue as well. She forgave me. I was finally able to forgive myself.

Time moved on and once again, life was good.

I found out some years later that that girl found her way out. She was clean and happy. I discovered that despite the fact that her mom had forgiven me and I had forgiven myself, I still held some degree of guilt for that. I remember referring to her as "the life I ruined" I didn't even realize that in that, semi-joking manner, I was showing that I had not truly forgiven myself for it. Talking to her shortly changed that.

I saw that her life was not ruined. It had been set back for a while, but, amazingly, God had rebuilt her life from the shambles that I helped create. I can't help but wonder if God used that meeting between her mother and I to work in that girls life. I can;t help but think that maybe, had I not been open to going to that woman and admitting to her that the horrible pain she felt was somehow my fault... maybe God would not have had an opening in her life to change her.

I will never know, not until I know all things of course... but for now I know that I didn't ruin her life. I know that as a person I have made mistakes and that no matter what, amazing things can happen.