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QUIET!! An airplane was flying in my head again. The racket was like ice picks being slowly pressed into my temples with no means for escape. But there was one escape, just one. I told my wife I was going for milk, and went to my mother’s house for a gun to blow my head off. I got out of the car, and saw the sky full of planes. Car horns were honking and sonic booms were thundering all around. This, I thought, is the end of the world; it’s all over—an Amen Chorus of my tortured life. It was a symphony of insanity that began when I quit school in my junior year and joined the Army. Within two years, I was an alcoholic. Then at 22, I married a girl whose life was as out of control as mine, and a year later we had a baby girl. I was making good money in the summer, but during the winter months we struggled. The struggle was worse for my wife and kid because I had to have my beer and cigarettes before we bought food. My relatives and friends got sick of my selfish behavior and abandoned me, and by February 1975, I had no one but my wife. And things got worse. One night, laying in bed, I thought I was going to die. I started having hot flashes through my head and my heart began racing. I frantically described what was happening to my wife who immediately rushed me to my mother’s house. Mom called the doctor who recommend two aspirin and a night’s sleep. That simple advice worked, and soon my heart was back to a normal. Even so, I was left not caring whether I lived or died, medicating my dark cloud of worthlessness with alcohol. But the mornings always came with fresh despair. I looked into my mirror one morning after a night of heavy drinking, and was stunned. For the thing looking back was more beast than man. It scared me out of drinking and into AA. They claimed my life would gain value since I had quit drinking. But they were immensely wrong! For I could find neither meaning, or purpose in anything. I was worthless and depressed. Worse, I deserved it. After about six months of this living death, my mother invited me to a church service. Now to me, church was for people who were empty headed or dying, but I said, "why not?” (I’d tried everything else.) The Pastor talked about Jesus, saying, “He can give anyone a brand new life,” and concluded with, “you may now come forward and ask Jesus into your heart.” I did it—I went to the rail, knelt, and asked Jesus to come into my heart and give me a new life. Afterwards, I complained that I didn't feel any different, but the pastor said, "Tom, you aren't saved because you feel saved. You are saved by trusting in Jesus. He also told me how the Holy Spirit would now begin to lead and help me. The next morning, I awakened to a surprise and exclaimed to my wife, "guess what. For the first time in many years, I have no desire to drink!" I knew at that moment that Jesus was real, and realized complete inner peace for the first time ever! But it was not to last. A week or so later, while laying in bed, I confessed, "Lord, I have made a mess of everything, and then invited the Holy Spirit to come in and take over. Immediately, I heard a voice that said, “Jesus,” in both ears, and directly following that came a sound like a jet plane cruising at 30,000 feet. It entered the top of my head and proceeded down, down, down. It felt like a large hypodermic needle being driven into my brain. Thereafter I again became deeply depressed and plagued with bazaar attacks and hallucinations. For instance, a church song service was interrupted with bar-room music that no one else heard; another time the words in my Bible went squiggly; Later, I learned I could battle and win. I had felt a crushing weight on my chest, and when I raised an arm and said, “Jesus, Lord,” it lifted. One night, something banged against the kitchen wall. I knew it was coming toward our room, so I spoke Psalm 34:7 "The Angel of the Lord encamps around those that fear Him, and rescues them in time of trouble,’ so stick your head out devil, and the Angel of the Lord will take care of you!" Instantly, a shadow appeared on the wall, but disappeared when I repeated the Psalm My wife neither heard or saw any of this. Still, my depression intensified and the sound of airplanes became more persistent and intense. I stood before the gun closet, inserted the key, but it wouldn’t turn. So I drew back my fist to break the glass. And stopped. I began to cry and say, "what will my mother think when she finds me laying in a pool of blood, and what about my wife? This will surely kill her. I returned home, told my wife what had happened and pleaded for an appointment with our doctor to have me admitted to a mental hospital. The doctor agreed and made the arrangements. About half way there, I began to go numb all over and started losing my memory. We were close to a regular hospital and I told my wife to get me there quick! In the emergency room, I complained that I felt my brain was about to be crushed, due to the tremendous pressure upon it. All the doctor could do was direct us to the mental hospital in Bangor. There, I was immediately admitted and assured that I would soon be given a shot. But it didn’t come, and thank God, for If it had, I might still be there. Two hours later, I began to go numb again, and I felt like the plane in my head was about to leave and take me with it. I gave away all my money and cigarettes to the other patients, who at this point, thought I was crazy! I wrote a note to my wife, that I wanted her to marry a Christian man and raise our kids in a Christian home. I wanted to give it to her but she wasn’t there, and I wondered why and where she might be. Perhaps, I thought, she’s with my mom. I needed to get out and find her. But the doors were automatically locked. So I stood close, and as someone entered, I stepped through, then set out for my mother’s house, hoping I’d find her there. My body was still numb and I kept thinking the plane was ready to leave, but first, I had to say goodbye to my wife. I walked the two miles, feeling like collapsing in the gutter with each step. I found my wife, and explained what had happened. I prayed, holding a picture of the Lord in my mind, but the plane fired a missile and shot the picture out. I froze emotionally and told my wife I didn't love her or anyone any more, whatsoever! But a little something must have remained, For I joined in singing Kris Kristoferson’s song, "Why Me Lord?" Then that little something began to rise, and I said, "Devil, If you are going to get me, I am going down singing praises to God." Then the song, "Though He slay me, yet will I praise him" came to mind and I sang it over and over till that little something burst into deep sobbing that erupted and scattered the emotional chill, replacing it with a deep compassion that transcended love, and with it the most exquisite gratitude that comes with rewards completely unearned. A few days later my mom suggested I call a man who casts our demons. He said he’d be there at six and told me to read psalm 103 over and over and believe it. He came through the door saying, "what's for supper?" And in the same breath, “Have you read psalm 103, and did you believe it?” “I have and I do believe it,” I said Looking at my mom and dad, he said, “don’t be afraid, because I’m about to get loud.” He laid his hands on my head and shouted, "in the name of Jesus Christ, come out of him!" I felt a stirring deep down inside of me. I could feel them tare at my neck as they came out, and knew I was free. By the way, the pastor did have supper with us and ate the biggest potato we had. My dad still jokes about that. “He had a right to anything he wanted!” A few days later, while at home, I was praising the Lord, telling Him how much I loved Him, knowing it was He who stopped my hand from breaking the glass, and that I so wanted a touch from Him! At that moment a pitcher of unspeakable love, like clear oil was poured down upon me, flowing around and through my whole being, spilling out in a flood of tears. I felt like I was going to be lifted out of this world, and I was truly ready to go. Later, while laying in bed, my wife looked at me and asked, “what’s wrong?” I told her that fear was circling me and wanted to come back in, but the Lord said in Hebrews 13:5 that He would never leave me nor forsake me. I told her I believed it. With that, the fear left and has never returned. Weeks later we had descended a flight of stairs to a “Continental Singers” concert. At the bottom, I heard chains dragging behind us. The Devil wanted to chain me again. But I had no fear. And during one of the songs, I saw the most beautiful cross! It was made up of perfect cubes, all of different colors, and pulsating before my very eyes! With every pulse, it became brilliant! It was like looking into the heart of God, and the glorious climax of my deliverance. The Word of God has never failed me since. I don't think it matters how we come to the point of suicide. Three things are clear: It is demon driven, insane, and destructive to the innocent, but the good part is, there is a way out. It is through Jesus Christ, who gave his life that we might have life, we are each worth more than all the world to him. |
