It was May 27^th, 1998, and I felt like I was living in a deep, dark trench. I was finishing my sophomore year of college but had lost all awarded scholarships because of my heavy drinking and doing drugs nearly every night and weekend. My boyfriend had come home to tell me that he was seeing someone else and I felt broken. It had been less than two years since my brother hung himself because of his own darkness and desperation, creating such anger inside me that nothing I knew could calm the rage. The walls seemed to be caving in on me and I felt so alone. I couldn’t run to my mom and disappoint her. I had pushed away most of my friends, so I had no one to turn to. Plus, I couldn’t stand being a burden on anyone. The only thought that made sense for immediate relief was to escape this life. Through hysterical crying, I tore apart the bathroom cabinet looking for anything that could numb the pain. All I saw was Tylenol, Benadryl, and Aspirin. I found nothing that could really help the intense heartache. “What if I took them all?” I started opening all the packages and bottles and counting their quantities. “This might do it,” I thought. I shoveled a handful of pills into my mouth and swallowed. I put my mouth under the faucet, drank, swallowed, and repeated the process until the bottles were empty. I slid down the wall to the bathroom floor, hugged my knees, and waited. Then my cell phone started ringing. It was a friend of mine I had grown up with. “Hey, I’m having the baby. We are at the hospital, and I need you here,” she said. She was going into labor a few days earlier than her due date, so I listened to her instructions. “What do I do now?” I questioned myself. I had already started to feel a burning in my stomach, but I had to be there for my friend. I forced my finger down my throat and leaned over the toilet to attempt throwing up. All that came out was yellow bile that caused stinging in my throat. It would take me twenty minutes to get to the hospital, so, “Maybe I’ll be okay,” I thought. I grabbed my keys, ran out the door, and raced to the hospital.

Once I arrived, they had already admitted my friend into the delivery room, and she was pushing. I went from pacing the room to holding her hand and encouraging her. As the intensity of labor pains grew and pushing continued, my head was spinning. I pulled up a chair to maintain my balance, but I was feeling sick and very dazed. Once the doctor said the baby was crowning, I leaned over my friend’s bent knees to witness the life being born and I slowly drifted to the floor. The nurse assisting the doctor grabbed my arm and ushered me to the bathroom where I vomited a majority of the toxins being held in my stomach. The nurse returned to my side and walked me out into the hallway and handed me a cup of water. As I sat in a chair to collect my thoughts and calm the dizziness, I heard the baby’s first cry.

While I missed out on the birth of the baby, I had been spared of extreme pain and possibly my own death. I thought, “I am such an idiot!! Why would I throw my life away over someone who didn’t love me and why would I hurt my mom all over again by killing myself?”

Because of my lack of faith at the time, I didn’t see the full picture of what God was doing. A few months later, my friend lost her husband to a sudden heart attack, and she became a single mom to that sweet baby. I was there to provide support and love them both as she struggled with extreme grief. I was able to step away from drugs and find meaning and purpose for my life. I had friends at work who started introducing me to God and the salvation He offered through His son, Jesus Christ. In 2002, God provided a moment in an airport for me to run into a man who became my husband, who eventually became the father to our three children. In January of 2003, I gave my life to Christ at a Walk to Emmaus retreat. To think, I almost missed out on those moments!

When I hear of someone attempting suicide, or who has died by suicide, my thoughts go to that day I sat on the floor of the bathroom struggling in my grief and loneliness. I remember the darkness I felt and how I thought there was no way out. But then…God showed me that we are all created for a purpose, and we have a job to do here on this planet. Until He calls us home, we get to serve and find joy in His creation. Yes, this life He gave us is not easy and we often walk through the valley of darkness, but He helps us reach those mountain tops where we can look back and see the victory and glory in those trials we experienced. We stand at the mountain top with such appreciation for life and all that He has provided.

I pray that you can make it through the temporary pain and heartache so that you can make it to the mountain tops. I pray that you can be aware of those around you who are willing and able to help you, or that you can look through your pain and see those who need you and your presence in this life. Your story is not yet complete!

Ginger Turner is the Founder and Director of Warriors for God Ministry. She has a Master’s Degree from Liberty University in Marriage and Family Therapy, is a Board Certified Mental Health Coach, and a Christian Life Coach. Ginger recently released her first book, Warrior Through Grace, about the childhood trauma and life experiences that led her to becoming a Warrior for God. Ginger, her husband, and three children reside in the Hill Country of Texas where she teaches and counsels couples, young children, and teenagers. Her focus is on enriching marriages and families, suicide awareness, and coaching the community on Whole Body Wellness. Ginger loves the Lord and lives every day for Him, serving Him in whatever capacity He sets on her path.