Broken. Depressed. Empty.
That’s where I was five years ago.
At the time, I worked at a large car dealership as a finance manager. The money was amazing, especially for a couple of kids with a kid. But the hours were atrocious.
On an average day I worked 16 hours a day.
My wife and I became roommates, never seeing each other. And if we did see each other we fought, which was my fault because I was a jerk.
Rather than address the issues we were facing, we bought things in hopes of those things filling the emptiness we were experiencing.
They didn’t fill our emptiness.
In fact, things got worse between my wife and I. Much, much worse. I treated her so badly she was ready to leave.
And then it happened.
She was asked to join the praise team at the church we were attending.
I would get home late at night and she would be reading a Bible or she would be listening to Christian music on the radio.
It was weird.
But what was even weirder was that she was nice to me. No matter how mean I was to her, she responded with love and grace.
This went on for several months. My wife was changing but I was still miserable.
So I did something.
I snuck a Bible out of our house and took it to work with me.
- I wanted to know if the Jesus thing was real or not.
- I wanted what my wife had.
For the next two months, I would read the red words in my office because I thought that if this Jesus thing was real then what better thing to read then the words He said?
- Did God really love me?
- Did He really send His son for me?
- Did He really want to give me freedom?
These were the questions that I kept asking myself. And they were legitimate questions because I thought I sucked.
I desperately wanted the answers to my questions to be yes.
I’m not sure what prompted it, but I decided to go to church 3 hours early with my wife and watch the praise team practice.
I was sitting next to the sound booth when something came over me. I started to cry while they were discussing the set.
It was then that I felt God say, “Go pray at the altar.”
And I was like, “You have to be kidding me? They are practicing right now and I don’t want to look stupid! I mean, is this even allowed?”
After arguing with Him for several minutes I caved in. I ran, yes ran, to the altar and poured my heart out.
I told God that I was done being a jerk and that I was His.
In that very moment, He changed me.
My brokenness, my depression, my emptiness; all taken away.
My wife will tell you that since that day, I have been a different man. That I have been loving, kind, and full of joy.
And she’s right.
I’ve been changed.
My name is Michael D. Perkins and I AM A Prodigal.