My name is Matthew and I am a devout Christian. My parents are devout Christians, my wife is a devout Christian, my only child is a devout Christian, everybody in my life is a devout Christian and that's how I like it.
I give Jesus everything I have, I'm a deacon at the church and my everything is Christianity. I don't care what Christian sect you come from but I'm a new colony Mennonite. But Jesus is Jesus.
I only trust evangelicals.
But God has forsaken me and delivered to me a dead son. Killed by a drunk driver. The only part of my life I would even consider being as important as my faith. And now it's gone.
Why do you do it to me, lord!? Why do you test me!?
I give it a lot of thought and I decide to go in another direction. Maybe I've been trusting the wrong deity. If God can take my life and smash it to pieces after all I've done for him, maybe I'm on the side of Satan.
My wife leaves me. My friends desert me. The life I've built has been smashed by the vengeful hand of God. My wife tells me she's thankful she can finally leave me without incurring the wrath of God, as I have forsaken the church. Now that we don't have a son and now that I no longer love Jesus she has no reason to stay with me, and maybe she's right.
I'm low. I'm real low. It would only make sense that I would turn to Satan.
I wake up to a drink every day and have more and more until I can't remember my evenings.
I look at Jesus on the cross above my bed. I consider taking it down but for some reason I can't bring myself to do it. A reminder. It's a reminder. A reminder of who I was, what my life was.
I've decided to explore the works of Satan... Buddhism, Scientology. I go to a local Buddhist temple and I learn a lot from the monks there. I learn about mindfulness, meditation, ways to transcend this universe. Ways to transcend God.
It's all a trick from Satan but I believe. Satan please convince me I was wrong.
I can't shake my belief in heaven and hell. I need to know my son is in heaven.
But I would rather rule in hell than serve in heaven.
I'm meditating in my home, because that's what I do now. I listen to my inner voice. My inner voice has only sorrow and longing. Longing for life before. Longing for my son. Longing for my wife.
Then suddenly I hear him. I hear Satan. Satan is speaking through me. Satan is me. Satan tells me to spread the word of the truth to all the poor fools who still trust in Christ.
I'm going to write a newsletter.
The next Sunday I stand outside my old church. I tell everybody I'm here to set them free. Free from the rules set by God. Free to be what they were meant to be, children in Satan's world. Satan is winning. Satan will win. The world belongs to Satan.
I hand them my newsletter.
"Free yourself! God wants control! Satan wants freedom! You no longer need to be your Christian self, you can be your true self!"
The pastor comes out and tells me "You need to get ahold of yourself. I can smell the alcohol on your breath. Just because I want you to leave doesn't mean I don't want you to get better, but I need you to leave."
After I go home, at my lowest, I decide to drink until I can't feel. I pass out. In my dreams, God comes to me and tells me I don't understand. He tells me he loves me. He tells me he hates to see me like this.
I awake with a jolt when the cross above my bed falls onto my head.
I'm sorry! I still love you!!
I go talk to the pastor of my church. "I want to come back to your flock. I've had my come to Jesus moment. My faith is stronger now than it ever has been." "You came to the house of God and told the little old ladies they need to come to Satan. I'm afraid I just can't let you back." "I'm sorry! I'll go in front of everybody and tell them my miraculous story! I'll tell them about my dream! I'll tell them about the fallen one coming back to the light." "I'm sorry."
I start to cry. "Please! Please!" "I'm sorry."
I go home and I drink. I think about my son, I think about my wife, I think about Jesus. It's too much. If I don't have the church, I don't have my son and I don't have my wife, there's simply nothing left.
So I take out my pistol, put it in my mouth and pull the trigger.