I wonder what this guy’s story is. Is he just some random person who thought this was a cool quote? Does he make it a habit of carrying around his camera while he’s riding his motorcycle and just pull over along the side of the road, having his photo taken by these signs? Or is there significance to him being in the picture? Why is he holding his helmet? Did he stare death in the face and escape an accident that could have cost him his life? Did God give him a second chance?
I couldn’t help but think about my own experience. I didn’t stare death in the face…not the way this guy might have, but I did wish for a second chance once.
If only she knew how sorry I was, then she would be able to forgive me. If only she understood the pain I had on my heart, I know she could work past the fact that I cheated on her. I just needed her to be in my shoes, to be in my head…then she could know that I would never do such a thing ever again. There IS such a thing as making a mistake and learning from it. It was just the one time.
Why wouldn’t she believe me? Why wouldn’t she forgive me? Why wouldn’t she give me a second chance?
I fell into a deep depression coma once I was arrested that fateful June day. I’m pretty sure I cried every single day, several hours a day, for the next two weeks as I wasted away in that Jail cell in Wyoming. I literally couldn’t eat for days. I had never cared so little about eating in my life. In fact, I would have welcomed death at that point…and I would have welcomed death for the next year of my life. Maybe even two. Just ask my family.
Once I was released from jail and on bond, I remember driving the streets at night and being hypnotized by the methodical street lights as I passed them by, thinking to myself, fantasizing to myself, hoping that a drunk driver would appear and swerve into my lane and kill me instantly in a head on collision. I used to come up with elaborate movie scene worthy scenarios of cars crashing and flipping as I tumbled to my death, putting me out of my misery. Life just simply wasn’t worth living if I couldn’t be with Michaela.
There was no excuse for my actions. I knew that. I did the unthinkable. I did one of the most hurtful things anybody could ever do to their lover. I cheated. And to really make it a hard pill to swallow, I was arrested for attempting to do it with a minor – a minor that was the same age as her kid sister. Who does that? Who could be so sick and twisted and…
I hated myself for a very long time. I wondered the same things about myself that she did.
She tried to make it work. She didn’t officially break up with me for another four or five months. That was when she finally called it quits. She just couldn’t get past it. There was too much doubt. Too much pain. Too much hurt. Too much deceit. Even if it was just one lie, it was one lie too many. One lie caused her to question our whole relationship. It caused her to question my whole character. I had destroyed the trust between us, and nothing that came out of my mouth could ever be believed again…at least not by her. It was crazy how one act, one single moment in time could destroy two and half years of character building proof. Just one mistake.
I understood it though. I deserved it. I made my bed, and now I had to lie in it. This was the beginning of one of the toughest lessons I have ever had to learn – there are consequences for our actions, and sometimes those consequences change the picture completely…forever.
But from where I was standing, the perspective was so different. I knew I would never hurt her like that again. My eyes had been opened. I now knew that I was capable of being a destroyer, of being a monster, and I was committed to never letting that happen again. All I wanted was a second chance. All I wanted was for her to forgive me…to truly forgive me, and to pretend like it had never happened. I just wanted her to see how much I could love her, how much I could right the wrong that I did, to prove to her through my actions that if she would give me that chance, she would never regret it for the rest of her life.
But I never got that second chance. Those were reserved for fairy tales and cheesy romantic comedies and dramas, but that wasn’t real life. That wasn’t my reality.
I wouldn’t change the course of events now that I’m removed from it and six years have passed. I now see how God turned the ugliest thing in my life and turned it into something good, and there’s something beautiful about His work when He does that. He surprises us by creating a masterpiece when we hand Him the paintbrush and allow Him to finish the disaster that we started.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. – Romans 8:28
With that said, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if she had given me a second chance.
The Calm Before the Storm 