From the Tomb to the Garden
by Terry Mansfield

    I was in the midst of a dreadful year; my home life had all the comfort and safety of a tin can on a freeway. Consequently my school experience was badly affected. There was nothing good in either place. There was not a single "safe" person in my life. My friends had dropped out of school and a string of disinterested teachers let me sink lower and lower without a word. Death was a familiar thought but the dull ring of Catholic doctrine kept me from acting on that. Yet if a kindly truck driver had seen fit to run me down I would have thanked him.

    It was during this time that a sadistic guy moved into my life; he was perfectly willing to add to the misery. He took my money (what little I had) and he hit me but violence was a regular event in my house so I lived with it. The pay off was that he had a house that was vacant most days. It became a place to hide and I did.

    One day a hysterical stepparent found us hiding out in her home.She too was violent, she drug me (I think by my hair) out to her car. This "parent" proceeded to drive recklessly to the mall while screaming uncontrollably. She was in a world of disappointments, fears and frustrations. Clearly she needed a target…and I was it. She dumped all her rage on me. I had been abused through my life but this was somehow breaking me into pieces beyond anything I had every known.

    Once we got to the mall I was dumped out of the car like refuse. I was in shock. The attack was so unexpected; I was torn apart before I could blink. I was not prepared; my usual coping mechanism for dealing with assault had failed me. I was destroyed. I can't recall much but I must have wandered for hours.

    Alone, broke and without a place to rest I just keep moving until I came across the bookstore. I knew this place, it was just a regular everyday boring bookstore. I worked nearby and I had walked by it a hundred different times. Something made me stop. I was drawn in like a fish on the line. I stepped directly up to a beautiful green book that was wide-opened on the shelf. I can still see it in my minds eye; it seemed to glow while all else was in shadow. I remember thinking that I should not touch it, so I didn't…but it touched me. A luminous hope bathed me as I read… Don't let your heart be troubled. You are trusting God, now trust in me.(John 14)

    I fell into God's arms. There was no intellectual hesitation, no preacher, no Sunday school lesson, just the Holy Spirit who hand fed hope to a shattered soul. God called and I ran to him. He wanted to rescue me and give me a home… I would have given all I had (including my life) to receive the love that was so freely coming out of that book.

    When I think of the transformation of that day I think of Mary who was drenched in despair as she searched for the Lord in an empty tomb. My life was that tomb but in the garden was the Author of Life. He called me by name and in one incredible moment a bleak and senseless life was given the promise of unspeakable beauty and hope.