It is NEVER Too Late

Life has shown me over and over that it is never too late. My life growing up was filled with trauma, but it was also filled with memories of music, dancing, and kindness. It was the good moments that kept me going after each trauma was over.

But at three different points in my youth, the lighter times were not enough to counter the dark. At 12 and 16, the trauma was too much to bear. Both times, the abuse suffered in cult activities was neatly boxed away by my over-wrought brain. From there, I could continue my efforts to live in a lighter world.

By 18, the effects of my own choices mixed with the abuse I suffered and left me angry and hopeless. In that state, I learned again that it is never too late.

Behind the Fortress

From Miracles in the Dark

At 30-something, sitting on my bed in the Life Stress unit of a hospital, I wrote the awful details and felt a kinship to my 18-year-old self.

The days following that birthday, resentment towards God and people at church sent me into a tailspin. Mom invited me to join her coven of other women bent on using dark magic to try to force their will on the world. It felt like it was the only way open. Despair took me to her meetings, and the horrors spiraled into a pit of despair. More debilitating meetings with Dad left me spent physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

I journaled, and a hopeless scene opened up in front of me. 18-year-old me laid in bed, trembling and exhausted with no more desire to live. Dark crept in, wrapped its cold fingers around my soul and spewed it into the hurricane of pain and fear that sucked me downward. My young heart pounded at the threat of Hell, and I struggled to stop my fall, flailing my arms and legs in every direction searching for something—anything—to grab onto. A picture of my Gardener [a kind man that visited me often in my dreams] flashed through my mind, and in that moment, a light flickered and stopped the downward spiral.

It is NEVER Too Late

Sounds of dancing water hushed the whirlwind. The light grew and washed away the darkness while sweet smells of honey blossoms filled the air. Warmth touched my hand, and I was back in my Garden place with my Gardener’s hand on mine. In front of me was the carved white stone pedestal with the Book of Life that my eight-year-old self saw ten years earlier. Light reached from the book to Heaven and invited me closer.

The pages turned, their words flowed into my mind without a sound. Then with a voice that whispered peace, my Gardener reminded me of the promises I received in the past. Darkness, fear, pain, and sorrow could not take away my future—I could choose whether to embrace the dark or the light. Relief rushed over me with the presence of profound love. It was this Love that made the future possible, and it melted the anger and fear around my heart.

As I wrote, I felt like I was 18 again feeling the despair and then the relief of the Garden place—almost as if I was there again. I was not sure if I was in the Garden that morning while I journaled or if my Gardener was there with me. But the promises made to me were as real as the pen in my hand. Gratitude energized me, and in full consciousness I promised my Gardener that I would try again. The cement around the walls inside me cracked, letting in a new sliver of light.

New Hope

Trials and traumas still came in the years after that eighteenth birthday, but my heart clung to the message that there was still beauty ahead of me. That message helped me hold onto the lighter pieces of life and take in their strength as I navigated the pain. It is hope that keeps me moving forward. It is hope that keeps believing that it is truly never too late.

A while back, during a time when it was hard to see the light behind the clouds of depression that haunted me, I came across this quote:

However late you think you are, however many chances you think you have missed, however many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines. Jeffery R. Holland

It is NEVER Too Late

I echo this message. Regardless of the pain we are forced to face or the depression or anxiety that threaten to consume our souls, there is joy ahead. Hold on, hope on, and find strength in knowing you are worth it.