Page 165 of Life of the Party

Hadn’t I felt that very thing? Hadn’t I actually tried to kill myself? But why didn’t I die? I’d taken more than enough heroin to overdose—way more than enough. Yet here I was, living, breathing. Fine.

“He spoke the word that healed you, that pulled you back from the brink of death.”

Could it be true? Did God have a plan for me? Did he really love me, despite my horridness? Enough to save me from death?

“…you called out to God in your desperate condition; he got you out in the nick of time.”

Would God help me if I asked him to? I knew I couldn’t take this for much longer—the heaviness of my heart, the despair in my soul, the wretchedness that permeated my entire being. Just one night of peace, that’s all I wanted. One night where I could shut my eyes and sleep, and know no hurt, no pain, no discontent. I had to try.

I laid my Bible down on my chest and shut the flashlight off, peeling my blankets back. I felt silly. I’d never done this before. I laid there for a minute, silent, staring up into the dark—into the utter blackness. My heart was pounding.

After a few deep breaths, I began.

“God, please,” I begged silently into the night.“please, if you’re there…help me. I…I need you. Please, if you’re real, show me. Help me to believe. Help me, God. I’m calling to you in a desperate condition, I can’t take much more. Get me out in the nick of time, God…please. Please…I beg you…help me…”

I’m not sure when the tears started, but I felt them wet and heavy on my cheeks. I don’t know what I expected—some whisper in the dark perhaps, or a hand heavy on my shoulder—but there was nothing, just dark and the quiet surrounding me, unchanging.

But then, there was something. I don’t know how to describe it…it was so subtle. There weren’t any fireworks exploding within me or anything; it was more like something just…clicked. Like whatever was missing was suddenly found. Like the last piece of the puzzle was finally in place. That’s not even it, though; it was even more delicate than that. Suddenly, I just knew that God was real. That everything the Bible said was true. That my heart was beating for a purpose, and that purpose was God.

I knew that I was saved. Forgiven. Loved, despite my imperfections. Despite what I’d done. Wholly, impossibly, perfectly loved.Beloved.

And nothing could ever change that.

Peace flooded over me. More peace than I’d ever known. I couldn’t explain it. It was better than any high I’d ever experienced. More potent than heroin, and…cleaner feeling. Like this peace was the right kind of peace. I felt safer than I ever had, more love than I’d ever known. All my agony was gone, all my sadness, all my guilt and despair. The darkness fell back, and sometime in the midst of thanking God, I fell fast asleep, and stayed that way until morning.

So thank God for his marvellous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves…

Allison had to shake me awake. “Mackenzie! You’re going to be late for breakfast.”

I stretched in my bed. I hadn’t slept so wonderfully in ages and ages—I hadn’t felt such serenity in my entire life. The moment I opened my eyes I expected it all to crash down on me again, the heaviness, the sorrow. While I still felt the pain from losing Grey, it was more bearable than it had ever been. And the peace, it remained. I couldn’t explain it. I smiled at Allison—like actually smiled; I felt so hopeful.

Like today was the beginning. Like nothing before today even mattered.

My smile surprised Allison so much she frowned at me. I’d broken an unwritten rule between us—smiling upon waking apparently was not allowed, not when in rehab. Part of me wanted to share with her what I’d experienced, what I’d found in the dark reaches of the night, but I knew Allison wouldn’t appreciate it, and this was all too new to me to have it sullied by someone who didn’t understand. So, as much as the words were nearly bursting out of me, just dying to be told, I bit my tongue.

There was only one person I was ready to tell. One person who’d get it.

I nearly raced to the meeting room that afternoon when it was time. Riley was there, like usual, sitting behind the table and waiting for me. His dark hair was still growing out from his buzz cut, short and messy. He wore a long-sleeved t-shirt, tight against his broad shoulders, and dark blue jeans that accentuated his newfound muscular physic. His dark eyes were staring down at his coffee cup, which he gripped with both hands like he was chilled from the short walk in from the cold.

He was the same. He was different. I felt like I really knew him now, now that I understood. I felt more connected to him than I had in a really, really long time.

Grinning, I opened up the door.

Riley was nearly as shocked as Allison by the smile on my face. The look he gave me made me want to laugh out loud, but I held back, stifling a giggle with my hand. “I can’t believe I’m laughing, Riley.” I shook my head. “I never thought I’d laugh again.”

I didn’t have to say it, but just from that sentence, Riley knew. The smile he gave me was unlike any smile he’d ever given me before. His dark eyes were shining as he came around the table and wrapped me up in a tremendous hug.

“I’m so happy, Mac.” He spoke into my ear. “You have no idea, how long I’ve…I’ve been praying and praying.” He held me tightly. His arms were so warm, so safe. I pressed my face against his chest and muffled my laughter into his shirt.

“He’s real, Ry. He’s really real.”

“I know. I know He is.”

“I’m so…” I shook my head. How to describe it? “I feel so light. I can’t believe it.” I looked up at my friend worriedly. “Is it wrong? Is it wrong to feel this good?”

“No.” Riley held my arms in his warm, strong hands and answered me sincerely. “No, it’s not wrong. As hard as it may be to believe, you do deserve happiness, Mac.”

“But…will he understand?” I wondered, hopefully.

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