She walked in the unfinished room of the church without any expectations at all. She felt an odd connection with the place that she would rather not admit. She observed this large misplaced room: the rough concrete floor, the sloppily painted walls - that couldn’t have matched if you were colorblind, the flickering light in the corner - which could make a perfectly healthy person feel an uneasy nausea, the barren metal chairs lined up facing the tilted microphone stand, the mismatched couches in the corner - that were obviously given to the church because of dislike rather than good deed and the faces that awkwardly smiled. There was a stale smell – maybe desperation has a scent or perhaps it’s despair. Either way, that’s the smell that most everyone brought in with them; whether it was in the form of dirty laundry or smoke infested clothes – everyone ended up smelling the same – stale.
She did not anticipate a miracle or even a real friend for that matter. She walked in to pass the time and be with the few girls she still allowed to hold the title of "friends".
It was Mimi who convinced her to walk through the doors. And only because Mimi had insisted that they would be able to get away from home for a significant amount of time without getting into trouble.
So here they were, at some youth group that the very southern, white pastor called with a twang "Chozen." I guess the spelling made it "cool" and the lopsided pool table made it a place to hang out. And that is exactly what this oversized, unfinished youth room became, Wednesday after Wednesday, they came in with their group of girls, played some pool, ping-pong, listened to the pastor talk about God and walked out unchanged.
She thought about what the purpose of this place really was, I mean it was in a church for goodness sake. Doesn't that mean it’s supposed to help you somehow? Or in some mysterious way make your life better? Nonetheless, she knew her life had far exceeded any chance of change, so she settled for this unfinished room to serve as her getaway.
It had been a couple months of attending this roughly put together youth group and no one really knew who she was. She was a rape victim, a high school dropout, a mother of three miscarried babies, a fatherless daughter, a sister to three other despondent girls and a prisoner to this endless horror story most people referred to as life.
What is it that the devil exists to do? Oh yes, steal - kill - destroy. With her he seemed to have victory; he had stolen her purity, killed her future, destroyed her family, stolen her education, killed her children, destroyed her dreams and on and on and on.
She felt like a victim. She no longer had control of her own life. So, her goal each morning was unadorned - survive. That was all. Pass time and survive. That is what this unfinished room of the church had aided her to do for quite some time.
Then life changed, dramatically. She met this Savior that the Bible-belt talked of so often. She met Him. He really did have a plan outside of this horror story. He desired to restore her and that is what He did. It all seemed to happen so suddenly. She had heard an array of college kids “preach” what seemed like a thousand messages. But it felt as if all of the messages began to blend. The words unexpectedly came to life. The stories became real. This change they talked about seemed tangible. She could almost taste it. Her heart seemed to beat at the same pace it always did, but now it had rhythm. She looked around with tear-filled eyes and saw everything so differently. The concrete floor had character to it, the mismatched walls were more vibrant than ever, the light flickered at a steady pace - which made her feel an odd sense of consistency, the barren metal chairs made her think of all the people she wished would sit in them and have this very same encounter and the faithful couches looked restored as she realized countless conversations they had brought about with the awkwardly smiling people that actually did care about her. Oh and even the smell of the room seemed different; like a cool breeze that blows past bringing the scent of colorful leaves, maple-flavored air and that satisfying sense that change has come.
Three years have passed since that Wednesday night. This once forgotten girl became a restored child. She eagerly pursued her GED knowing this was the first step to shaping her future. After being told her mother could no longer support her financially, even at the young age of 17, she ambitiously moved out on her own. She roughed it at times - in friends’ homes, trailers, motels; all the while pressing on - certain that the Lord would reward her diligence and hard work. She began college, a first in her family, and today is only months away from walking across that stage and having in her hand a diploma. That diploma will represent much more than it does for most people – it will represent victory, stability, possibility and security. While accomplishing all this, this forgiven, restored, healed, accomplished young lady became a leader in this "cool" group called Chozen. Instead of watching a horror story unfold, she lives her life on purpose.
What was the switch? What rose up inside of her? What changed?
This prisoner was set free. The victorious smirk has been wiped off of Satan’s face and replaced with defeat and a stale smell. She has been snatched from the dreadful finish many horror stories conclude. Why? She acquired hope.
