No Human Ever Came
Let the truth settle like dust on a quiet, abandoned room: No human ever came to rescue me.
I was always going through some type of trouble. A continuous, exhausting cycle of crisis that felt designed to break me down before I was even fully formed. And the people around me? They didn't offer a hand; they offered a gallery seat. I got judged from side to side, whispers following me like smoke, turning into heavy verdicts.
Man, I was only a teenager.
How could I have known the rules of a game when no one bothered to give me the manual? I was unequipped, hungry, and terrified. I searched for love in every temporary glance, every empty promise. Having so many kids was an echo of that profound, desperate search—trying to build a family, trying to create the safety net that the world denied me. Searching for love, never to find it.
No one ever came to rescue me.
The stares. Oh, the stares everyone gives you when you make a mistake—not a quick glance of pity, but a deep, dissecting look that assumes malice, not ignorance. The secret talks behind your back, the hushed conferences designed to exclude, to cement your status as the problem.
I did not understand why. I begged, silently, for someone to tell me, to guide me.
I did not know. I was kicked out, lost at a young age in this harsh, brutal world, trying to survive on instinct alone. And finally, the cold realization settled in my bones:
No one ever came for me. No one.
And they wonder why I am all dry. Spiritually parched, bone vacant, left to wither in the sun of my own failures.
thought, with a despair so deep it was silent: No one. Not one soul shouldered the weight to rescue me.
But Then, The Knight Arrived
Then Jesus showed up.
He didn't send a messenger. He didn't wait for me to crawl my way toward holiness. He rode straight into the middle of my wreckage, like my Knight in Shining Armor.
He didn’t critique the ruins of my life; He started handing me the tools I missed. He gave me the blueprint for living, the map to grace, the water for my barren soul. The wisdom I begged for, the guidance I craved since I was that frightened teenager—He provided it all freely.
That lost kid, searching for a handout, looking for a temporary fix, judged by everyone who crossed her path—He came for her.
He looked past the kids, past the mistakes, past the desperation. He looked past the person I feared I was, and saw only the worth He placed there all along.
He came, and He rescued me.
He never judged me. He just loved me.
I was lost. I am found. And I am never leaving.
