Do Broken Crayons Still Color?

The time I almost took my life.

"What do you do when you can't forget?" I asked. But I didn't get a reply. Not like I was expecting one though, cos there was no one in the room with me. But the question lingered regardless. A question I'd tried so hard to run away from.

It's been 7 months. 7 months since that beautiful moment. The moment my life changed forever. Something had been dragging me to go to that church. The church my close friends despised. The church that had gained so much popularity in medical school in its first year of opening: The Transformation Community. I'll never forget the sermon. I can almost preach it verbatim. It was as if Pastor Irene was talking to only me. She preached about a love too good to be true. A love that saw through all that I was and still reached out to me. At the end of the sermon, I knew I wanted that love. That was the day I got “born again”. I apologize for going off topic. You would think that with a salvation experience that beautiful, my life would be free of the "commas". Unfortunately for me, that wasn't the case. You see, prior to my salvation experience, I lived the most morally bankrupt life, for want of a better word. I killed my morals and threw a party at her funeral. There was nothing immoral I didn't do. Lmaoooo, if it had a name, then I definitely did it. If it didn't have a name, then I named it. For your innocence sake, I'll spare you the details. My life was on cruise mode, and I loved it! Well, I thought I did.

Meeting Jesus changed everything. I’ve heard certain folks call it “the miracle of changed desires”. An apt description. It has been a beautiful experience, really.
But for some weird reason, I couldn't and still haven't been able to bring myself to forget. To forget who I was. To forget all I did. Trust me, I've tried my best to. I've prayed, cried and begged God. For a while now, it has seemed like no matter how hard I try to deepen my relationship to God, the voice from my past life always comes to undo everything. It's hard to believe that I can ever have a pure relationship with Him. Or even be used mightily by Him. I look at all the people around me. Young and fresh and fervent (in the words of Aigbeh D’Gong, a gospel artiste I listen to). All of them are being used by Him mightily, and there’s me. Sometimes, I fight envy. Resentment too. Because “Why can't it be me?” Is it that hard to look beyond my past? Sometimes, I imagine Him saying "But you did do terrible things, you know". And if that's what He thinks, He's probably right. I did abominable things. I would have fit into Sodom and Gomorrah's system. A perfect fit, no adjustments. To be honest, some days are better than this. On some days, I bask in the fulness of the life of Christ that I've received. The joy so palpable. But on some days, I feel like this. I feel like calling it quits. Today is one of such days. And today for the first time ever, I think I'll actually put an end to this.

I've contemplated leaving the Christian faith for a while now. The body of Christ would definitely be better off without someone like me. The Transformation church pastorate and family are probably tired of hearing people talk about the person I used to be. "Ah, even if Jesus dey forgive, e no suppose forgive am. E sure me say hin dey disguise"..."TFC shouldn't be associating herself with such a person. It's a stain." To be fair, I did feel like a stain. A stain on their immaculate white. But if I left the Christian faith, it would raise more questions. Questions I don't think I have answers to. I know the TFC family would also look for me. I don't want to put them through such unnecessary stress.
I can hear my parents laugh. That loud, annoying laugh. They had given me 2 months. "2 months till you stop all these your born again pretense", they said. 7 months has definitely been a surprise to them, I’m sure. But I can't continue anymore. I've tried. They've always been disappointed in me, so I'm sure this won't come as a surprise to them. If only they knew. If only they knew that my problems started the day they brought Uncle Chima to live with us. If only they paid attention. I can still hear my screams. I can still picture my favorite shorts being put in a polythene bag and thrown away, because it was stained with blood. My blood. If only they'd asked what happened to my favorite shorts.
If you're still reading this, I apologize for always derailing. I was almost going to talk about my past trauma. Forgot that this isn't a therapy session. Silly me.

Ah, where was I? I think I was talking about calling it quits for real. I had planned the most painless way to do it. I read on Twitter about a drug that does the job sharply. Without any pain. "It feels like sleep", the anon account said. I went to great lengths to get the drug. I spent more money transporting myself to the place I got it than I did on the drugs. Sorry, but I will not be disclosing the name of the drug or my source.

But as I reach for the drugs, my phone beeps. A message notification. I ignore it. But it beeps again, and again. I was going to put my phone on flight mode, but somehow, I forgot.
"Something" asks me to check it. I do. It's a WhatsApp message. A Vn to be specific. From Bro. NeIson. Someone I barely talk to, but greatly admire. Out of curiosity, I play it: "Ichie, how are you? For some weird reason, you've been on my mind today. And as I picked up my phone to text you, I just felt a leading to pray for you. I pray that the peace of God envelops your heart in a warm embrace. I pray that all your fears are allayed and the storms quieted. I pray that the joy of the Lord strengthens you." By now, I was already in tears. I could barely even see my screen. He continued. "You are kept, Ichie. Kept by the Lord. For He has need of you. Maybe you've rejected yourself, but God hasn't rejected you. He still has need of you. God loves you too much, Ichie. I do too. Take care, okay?" In that moment, a heavy burden was lifted from my shoulders. I felt so light. So God was thinking about me? Me? He has me on His mind? And He wants to use me??? I couldn't believe it. My heart was free. Joy erupted from within me. I danced to sounds of the music playing in my heart. Pure joy. Relief. And in that moment of celebration, I screamed with excitement "Broken crayons still color!"