“From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” Psalm 61:2 (NKJV)

I’m Matthew.

Thirty-seven years ago, I was born in Fostoria, a town in northwest Ohio.  For part of my childhood, my dad was my buddy.  My dad grew up in Fostoria, played high school football (under a famous and much-loved coach), and came back to coach football at Fostoria High.  Football has a long, glorious history in Fostoria.   Bleachers were always packed with passionate fans, and communities rallied around their team.  

When I was six years old, my dad was part of the coaching staff (under his coach) which led the varsity team to a 13-1 record to win the Division II state title. My dad was like a parent to many of these young men and he could do no wrong; he was and is still a hometown hero.

No doubt, my dad invested a lot of time in mentoring those young players for several attempts at the state championships.  In 1997, there was change in the air:  my dad’s coach had retired the year before, the new head coach came in with less fanfare, and my mom thought it was a good opportunity for my dad to spend more time with his family.  After 20 years of success after success, my dad retired from football!

Almost overnight, my relationship with my dad shifted.  He began drinking a lot more, and then he was drinking all day long.  He was irritable and he seemed to take out his frustrations on the whole family.  I felt like his “punching bag.”  At ten years old, my hero had become my enemy.  I was afraid of my dad and I lost my respect for him.

As I entered my teens, I involved myself in athletics through wrestling and football.  Like my dad, I was a linebacker for the Fostoria High football team.  Being a football player at Fostoria meant something: it transformed a tough kid into a hard-working and respectable person.

As my strength and confidence grew, I was no longer afraid to stand up to my dad and get between him and my mother.  However, fighting my dad often made the situation worse.    

When things got bad, I went over to my best friend’s house.  Matt and I were both in athletics.  I would go with his family to church sometimes.  His family were “on fire for the Lord” Christians.  His mom knew about my home life, yet she wouldn’t let me disrespect my parents as she held me to a high standard.  I considered Matt and his family as my second family.

After I graduated from high school, I immediately moved out of my parents’ home and moved in with a friend, even though I didn’t have much money.  With no job and no work skills, I was quickly taken in by the street lifestyle of stealing and selling drugs to get by, which put me into situations where I needed to be violent.  Violence became an outlet for the anger that had built up in me during my adolescence.  Soon, I joined others who were like-minded, and we wreaked havoc on those around us. My linebacker build and my fierce anger made me the “enforcer” of the gang.  Gang life gave me a sense of belonging and a purpose: I felt like I was a demon doing the “Enemy’s” work.

As time went on, the glamour of gang life faded, and so did friends, women, and money.  I had drugs and I soon became an addict of my own supply.  I got hooked onto cocaine and that drained my pockets.  My parents knew better than to give money to a drug addict.  They loved me, but they, wisely, did not associate with me.

One night, I felt driven by a dark presence to an upstairs bedroom in the worst part of town.  I was deeply depressed as I thought on my life’s situation:  I had no purpose, no real future; I felt trapped and condemned because of countless people whom I had victimized; there were many broken relationships; and I felt like I was a disappointment to my parents.  Although friends invited me to go out with them, I stayed back because I was making plans to end my life, that night. As I stepped closer to suicide, I felt my soul crying out:

“Lord, please, save me!”

I was never a praying person or someone who even believed in God. Yet, from my despair and brokeness, I began to pray:

“Lord, please have mercy!  Save me from this!”

As soon as I started praying, I heard the downstairs front door open, and everything seemed to stop.  The front door slammed shut and I felt a presence in the house that I had never felt before.  I was terrified about who had come into the house.   I heard the stomping of heavy boots coming up the stairs and I held my breath.  I was afraid for my life.  I felt someone was going to kill me.

I looked up and it was my best friend from junior high, Matt.  I didn’t know how he found out where I lived.

“What? What are you doing here?!!,” I exclaimed.

He said, “Something told me you were in trouble and that you needed help.  I had no choice but to come and find you.”

This was the only proof I needed that God is real: He heard my desperate prayer and brought someone to stop me from taking my own life.

This was the “wake-up call” that the Lord had prescribed for me.  It started in me the first steps toward re-tooling my broken life, removing harmful practices, and after some years, putting my faith in Jesus Christ for salvation.  After that fateful night, I moved out from the neighborhood, told my parents everything that was going on with me, and began getting help through counseling and Alcoholics Anonymous.

I knew that it would take a lot for my parents to ever trust me again.  When they saw that I was making strides away from drug addiction and toward becoming a contributing member of society, they welcomed me back with open arms and into their lives.

I started going to church and heard pastors preach.  At some point, I was able to tell the difference between those who taught from worldly theories and those who taught from the timeless, Word of God. I loved being in the company of Christian believers.

Shame and regrets held me back for decades, but God began a good work in me and He is faithful to complete it.

***

As I look back over the past fourteen years, God changed my life immeasurably.  He chose me and saved me from the grip that the Enemy had on me and received me into His loving arms.  God’s grace and mercy are undeniable:

Today, my life is dedicated to living for others.  I find my identity in Jesus Christ.  I have had a change of heart.  God has forgiven me, I am no longer held back by shame, and I forgive others.  Jesus Christ released me from the power of an angry demon, and I submit my will to the Lord.  I no longer live for confrontation, and I don’t look to settle things with my fists.  God has called me to be a peacemaker, as He filled me with an otherworldly peace.

***

Dear Reader, no matter where you are, no matter the guilt or pain that you feel, the Lord sees you and beckons you to “Come home!”  Jesus Christ paid for your sins on the cross and He alone can give you a life of hope, purpose, and security.  -- Matthew

Matthew went back to school and earned degrees in Engineering and Business.  At the time of this writing, he currently works for a leading manufacturer of coated paper products located in the Southeastern United States, as their production manager.