The winds blew as if they would never stop blowing.

The waves crashed and the tide came rushing in,

Trying to pull me under and suck me down, to the

Very bottom, and hold me there...never to let me up.

The fierceness of this particular storm was dangerously amazing.

I searched for a hand, or something to grab hold of.

The storm was so fierce that it chased everything away.

Everything that I held dear was gone in an instant.

I frantically struggled in the deep waves.

My clothes were tattered from the pull of the waves.

The shells at the bottom of the sea slashed my skin, and embedded themselves and left horrible scars.

Salt water burned the open wounds that I received during the storm.

The tide receded and I was left lying there bruised and cut up, in a small pool, shivering and exposed, and scared.

I arose and stumbled down the path that I had chosen, wondering if I would ever make it back home again.

As I wandered aimlessly, thoughts of home haunted me. "How could I ever go back, after all that had happened." I most certainly would not be welcomed.

I had chosen to take this path. It was my decision. Now, I had to live with it.

Through the fog that lived in my head I heard a faint call "Come Home."

"Come Home."

I knew that I did not deserve to be able to come home...but home is where I went, to the Lover Of My Soul.

This is who Jesus is to me. He loved me when I was an unlovable, selfish moron.

My life has not been the same since that time period. Jesus is real and He forgave me in such a miraculous way that I will not ever doubt Him again. Yes, I have struggles, but I know without a doubt that He can and wants to Save whoever may be reading this to the uttermost!

Blessings,

cathy.