My rescue began the moment He stepped onto the shore. Despite my hopeless state, I was not only salvaged but saved—my dreadful, disgraceful existence freed from utter destruction.

The details surrounding our initial meeting remain obscure and fuzzy, but this I know: the moment we locked eyes, a spark of hope flickered somewhere deep within the blackness of my soul.

Much of my life lost in a blur of formidable darkness, my existence was enveloped in evil so terrifying, my hopeless family abandoned me to solitary confinement in the Garesene caves.

I’ll never know why they came. Why me of all people? Most people think some hidden personal or family sin was responsible for my perpetual imprisonment.

Yet how could anyone detect or diagnose sin in this hopeless region bereft of God?

But for whatever reason, they came. I recall only sensations after that: pain, torment, destitution, and loss. My mind and body belonged to another. A rage-filled monster, I could not be subdued, at least not until He showed up.

Somehow, they knew He was on His way.

Later by the fire, I heard His followers speaking in hushed voices about their harrowing trip from Galilee. He calmed the raging wind and waves with a word: one utterly lost to me—peace.

I’ll never know for sure, but I believe they sensed Him coming and tried to keep Him away. After all, this region belonged to them.

But He resolutely set His face toward this godless country and pushed back the darkness. He had a mission, and I was His mission, O wretched man that I am! Yet He came.

I’ve heard the details of our meeting at least a hundred times from the local herdsmen. They say we met Him as He stepped onto the shore and called to Him, “Jesus, Son of the Most High God!” begging Him not to torment them.

Tormenting me and everyone around me for years, they had the audacity to beg for kinder treatment!

Yet, for reasons I’ll never fully understand, He obliged them, allowing them to inhabit the herdsman’s pigs who immediately jumped to their watery death. (Luke 8:22-38)

Why? Some say it was because He is Satan himself. Others called it a lesson in mercy. I say it was because of who He is; His ways are higher than ours.

My first memory is one that remains forever seared in my mind. Sitting at His feet like a trembling, newborn lamb, I was clothed, clean, and in my right mind.

As a Rabbi, He had done the unspeakable: He touched me. With the same authority that He calmed the wind and waves, He calmed my tormented soul. I felt power leave His being and enter mine at His touch.

I can’t explain how it happened, but a fierce peace suddenly flooded and overwhelmed me; barely able to put words together, I collapsed at His feet and sobbed.

Pure love radiated from His eyes, but I couldn’t help turning away in shame. Yet He spoke tenderly, compassionately, but with unmistakable authority.

He declared me cherished by His Father. He spoke of things I could not fully comprehend in the moment: forgiveness, freedom, and new life.

Now a beloved man of God, He secretly whispered beautiful words forever inscribed on my heart: the heart He returned to me.

When the town’s people arrived, already gripped with fear, seeing me at His feet was too much for them. “Please depart from us!” they pleaded.

Our godless town was visited by God Himself, and they asked Him to leave!? A miracle in their midst could not soften their scaly souls.

Incomprehensible to be torn from my place at His feet, I cried, even begged to be allowed to join Him. How could I lose the One who just saved me in every way possible?

But with compassion-filled eyes, He asked me to return to my home and speak about what great things God had done for me. His eyes danced with an urgent joy over the importance of my mission–my new call.

How could I refuse this Lover of my soul? I fell at His feet one last time. He knelt down and gently raised my face to meet His. His eyes, as tear-soaked as mine, pierced my soul, “They ALL need me,” He whispered.

With a passionate embrace, my first in years, we bid each other farewell. I watched His boat fade into the sun-soaked, watery distance. Our eyes met one last time—the last time I looked into the face of Love.

At that moment, I knew it had happened again. My soul was once again possessed by another.

Health Tip of the Week: Your health isn’t hopeless!