What If

Image created by author using Midjourney

What if she had never gone astray in her faith as a teenager? Would she still be carrying this much pain? What if she decided to take that man up on his offer in the back of that musty, overly glamourized Chevelle?

Would she have fallen victim to prostitution instead of approaching her forty-eighth birthday? What if she hadn’t turned around when that white van’s back door was slowly opening for no good reason? Would she have been sold, forever lost to the dark, merciless world of sex trafficking?

Certainly, she isn’t the first to ask such questions, but why is she suddenly against the wall, sinking to the floor?

A sharp pang of an ostentatious life spent in captivity, struggling to overcome her lifelong addiction, causes her brow to furrow. She notices she may be panicking. As she tightly grips her t-shirt into a wad, deep regrets join her pained expressions. Then, a dam breaks in the recesses of her mind. Oh no, she murmurs, the cruel, familiar heaviness is back.

However, this time, her chest can barely hold the disillusionment.

Pain continues mercilessly pouring through her ribcage like sand, and the flash flood turns violent. She knows she has no choice. She firmly grips the shaft of regret and plunges it deep into her soft, pink lung, narrowly missing her sternum. She strains a relieved sigh when she realizes the tiny gap will do.

Slow, shallow breathing returns, and with trembling, slightly parted lips, she quietly whispers, “What if?”

Dazed and confused, she senses a calm presence approaching her.

My child, “What if?”

A weak smile crosses her face as the Lord gently pulls the tip of the knife from her blood-stained chest. The self-inflicted wound remains. “What if I heal you?” Caught a bit off guard at his beauty, she doesn’t respond at first, but within this captivation, she recognizes that she is no longer in pain.

Instantly warm, comforting tears blur her vision as she squints to continue beholding the presence of God. There, she unloads her cares, all of the chaos of this moment, and her Savior lovingly gives her a space for each of them.

After what feels like an eternity in the loving, tender arms of Jesus, present living comes into focus. Still longing for heaven, wanting this precious moment to last forever, she continues groaning, letting out a loud cry from the depths of her soul, then speaking. Yes, Lord. Here I am, heal me.

“Casting all your cares [all your anxieties, all your worries, and all your concerns, once and for all] on Him, for He cares about you [with deepest affection, and watches over you very carefully].” 1 Peter 5:7 AMP

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