Drugs, Jail, and Jesus (Guest Post by Jenny Reese Clark)

Five years ago, I found myself running down the side of a heavily traveled road with no shoes, no money, no identification, and no hope.

My pores stung with every bit of chemical coated sweat that dripped from my face. I had nowhere to go and even less places to turn.

I looked up to see a nearby convenient store and I understood more about that identifying phrase than I ever wanted to know. Temporary concealment from those who are looking for me is what first crossed my mind.

Second, was that it was air-conditioned and could supply me water to drink. My immediate problem was that I didn’t have change for a Styrofoam cup.

I seized my opportunity and ignored the signs as I entered. I forced myself to slow down to a more casual pace. I couldn’t afford any extra attention and I refused to turn back and face what I had just destroyed.

My small strides managed to carry me to the restroom without interruption. This also was a term that spoke more directly to my soul than ever before. I was desperate for a place to rest, but I could not afford it and had hardly enough strength left to find it.

Immediately, I went to the sink to wash the filth from my hands and face. As soon as the cool water touched my skin, the thoughts of sure refreshment escaped me and were replaced by an even more intense burning. Water is an activating ingredient in my illegal concoction and because my pours were open due to the heat, the reaction took place in the holes on my face.

I cringed and quickly lifted my shirt to stop this reaction from happening, only my shirt had also absorbed many chemicals and made my situation worse. My eyes watered not only from the pain, but from the torment in my soul. I was guilty of more than just the obvious; I had betrayed my own family.

This disheveled mess was the beginning of many life changing events. As I brought my mouth down to the dirty faucet to rehydrate, I realized there was nothing in this world that could save me. My thirst for sin could never be quenched and as I came up and stared at the chaos of my life, shame nearly swallowed me whole.

Five years later, I sit a free woman with hope large enough to encourage the entire world. Jesus Christ not only rescued me from this moment, but set me on a path that once traveled would teach me how to reach out and help preserve others. Christ and His sacrifice on the cross at Calvary is my assurance of an eternal future, and my strength for each day comes from His unlimited reserve of grace and mercy.

Never, could I have come back from this point without His almighty hand guiding my every move.

Although prison was a painful place to heal, heal I did! The Lord took this lonely barren wasteland and customized it into a unique and intense training ground in which I could better learn to trust and follow His lead. I don’t wake up in the morning with the answers to every specific problem, but to the issues that truly matter, I look to an unchanging solution.

Many nights, I lay awake and stare at the steal bunk above my head. Never did it impair me from seeing my precious God above. I was not left to endure my suffering alone, but held tightly in the embrace of His sovereign promises.

Each day that passed, I grew more affectionate to the One who loved me when I was unlovable. His words and the stories of redemption that they carry pushed me forward to the gates of true freedom and as they opened for me, I am indebted forever as a servant of His kingdom.