Chapter 10: Talking to God in a Porta Potty

I needed to resolve this guilty feeling. I told the group I needed to use the bathroom. As I walked through the crowds to the Porta Potties, I was confused and scared about how this story would end.

I headed straight into the privacy of a Porta Potty and stood inside for several minutes. I reached into my pocket for the last of the drugs I had. Molly.

Pouring the dark purple rocks out into my hand, I knew that taking this would make me the most drugged I’ve ever been in my life. I had never mixed Molly with LSD, not to mention the weed and alcohol. I didn’t know how this would end. In my own confused state, my voice wavered as I broke the many-years silence I had formed between myself and God with a daring and yet fearful plee:

“God, if there’s something you want to tell me, now’s the time.”

I put the Molly in my mouth and busted out of the porta potty. Having no water, I simply bit into the rocks and it instantly hit me. Two words: sensory overload. I became extremely thirsty and my sense of hearing heightened uncontrollably. My ears started to ring intensely with all the noise about me. Everything was so bright.

Two things became abundantly clear to me at that point: (1) I really needed a drink and (2) this life I was living was self-destructive and selfish.

All these years of partying and chasing girls and drinking and drugs. What have I become? What happened to the 6-year-old me, so young and innocent and free? Was I really free today? No, these vices and addictions had a grip on my life. This life wasn’t freedom at all.

I realized I never felt lasting happiness all these years because I had shut God out of my life. I desired more than ever to make things right. But how?

I walked to a food stand. As I waited for a strawberry smoothie, the climax of the entire weekend was unraveling before my very eyes. Massive beach balls resembling planet Earth were being rolled out into the crowds by glittery, bikini-clad women right in front of me. Fireworks began going off. The band was dazzling the crowd with a fervid guitar solo, the stage lights were on all cylinders. The crowd went wild.

Despite these temptations and on all manner of drugs, I knew in my heart I wouldn’t feel free going back into the crowd. I wasn’t quite sure what I had to do but I knew I couldn’t do it here. I had to retreat somewhere quiet. I got my smoothie and headed in the opposite direction of most everyone else. I prayed for the first time in a long time. It was short and simple, but sincere:

“God, get me out of here.”

I eventually made it out of the venue and into the campgrounds. It was much quieter and darker. I could now really think through things alone. But I wasn’t alone.

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