Kurt moved to a different church and brought the children there during this time. He made some friends and began playing music in a Christian band. Kurt couldn’t understand what had happened to me; after all, I was the one who believed while he denied the existence of God. Eventually, God spoke to Kurt and instructed him to bring me back home. I remember when Kurt first approached Larry and asked, “Is my wife ready to come home?” I reacted with anger, frustrated that he didn’t understand my pain and hadn’t changed churches until after I left. Now, he wanted me to return home in my broken state.
Once, while incarcerated, a detective interrogated me concerning Larry, but I refused to answer. As my silence persisted, the detective grew weary and threatened me. Then, I clarified he could do nothing I hadn’t done to myself. I confessed my failures as a mother, a wife, and a child of God, and now addicted to drugs. What more could he possibly inflict upon me I hadn’t already inflicted upon myself? I believed I deserved to suffer in hell. However, I was taken aback when the detective asked if he could say a prayer for me. I bowed my head humbly and softly responded, “Yes.” He approached my side of the table, knelt before me, and prayed. He beseeched God to help me grasp His love’s depth and show me mercy. Overwhelmed, tears streamed down my face.
After my release, I found trusting myself around my family difficult. Eventually, I returned to Larry’s and continued my pattern of self-destruction. Kurt kept visiting, persistently asking, “Is my wife ready to come home?” I had already warned everyone to leave him alone. Those who knew me recognized my struggle and ignored Kurt.
One night, I vividly recall thinking that if something didn’t change by the time I woke up, I would end my life. I verified every gun in the house was loaded and went to sleep. The following morning, I quickly realized that nothing had changed, and I grabbed a gun, pressed it against my chin, and pulled the trigger. Witnessing the aftermath, Larry began trembling. He revealed that something had woken him up and prevented him from going back to sleep until he unloaded every gun. He asked what or who protected me; I responded, “God.” At that moment, he experienced a profound shift in his beliefs about the existence of God. Yes, later that day, I returned to jail for another time-out.
