We all know that outward appearances can be deceptive; first impressions can be wrong, and you really can't judge a book by its cover. Everyday real life isn't what you see in photo-ops posted on social media. You know the kind: beautiful people living seemingly perfect lives. Everyone smiles, appears happy, and seems to be living the oh-so-good life. But behind those smiles, there's often someone hiding their true feelings, their photo image eventually fading into sadness, heartache, loneliness, depression, or despair. Not everything is perfect. Not everyone is happy. Not everyone is okay.
God only knows what they've been through—or what you've been through. Take, for instance, this picture of me standing at the front door of my new house with my dad. At twenty-years-old, I reflected the image of a good life. Yet, in just two short years, my image faded into darkness, and I found myself contemplating suicide. Perhaps even more astonishing is that God directly intervened to save my life.
Tennis legend Andre Agassi once said, "Image is everything." He used this tagline when promoting the Canon EOS Rebel camera in a series of TV commercials in the early 1990s. With his youthful swagger and anti-establishment revolutionary persona, Andre was the perfect spokesperson, representing the sharp image of a tennis rebel with his long hair and blue jean shorts. While not as shocking as Rodney Dangerfield's character in the movie Caddyshack, Andre still stood out as a rebel to the country club set and tennis court crowd. However, behind his public image lay an embarrassing secret—one he revealed in his autobiography, Open.
"But after months and months of derision, criticism, mockery, I'm too self-conscious. Image Is Everything? What would they say if they knew I've been wearing a hair-piece all this time? Win or lose, they wouldn't talk about my game...the whole world would be laughing. I can close my eyes and almost hear it. And I know I can't take it."
While Andre fiercely guarded his public image, my own image reflected that of a young man with a good start in life. I was also blessed with all the material comforts of home. As I stand at the front door with my dad, I invite you in for a tour. Scroll through the following photos, and you'll notice that I didn't lack for anything. I wasn't rich, but I was very comfortable and even added a screen porch to make my image of "the perfect little home" complete. Since "image is (supposedly) everything," I have to admit to making a couple of early 1980s decorating mistakes. How about those vertical mirrored blinds in the dining room?
It wasn't long after moving in that I discovered how image really isn't everything. While my life may have looked good on the outside, inside was a different story. It's similar to what Andre says about the lives of celebrities: "I marvel at how unexciting it is to be famous, how mundane famous people are. They're confused, uncertain, insecure, and often hate what they do. It's something we always hear - like that old adage that money can't buy happiness—but we never believe it until we see it for ourselves."
Moving on my own from New Hampshire to Florida at nineteen, buying a house, and starting a new life in a new city was a thrilling ride. It was exciting while it lasted. But when the ride ended, my life plummeted like a roller coaster. While I was riding on a high, I should have known that my troubles from years earlier were riding on the same track and racing up behind me. My past was about to slam into my present and I wasn't prepared. It nearly derailed my life. I can sum it up with these two famous words from Charlie Brown: "Good Grief!"
When I was eleven years old, my family moved from Massachusetts to New Hampshire. Changing schools set me back academically, and it took several years to recover. This trash can was given to me as a present when I was twelve years old and had just flunked the 6th grade. Poor ol' Charlie Brown! Even Snoopy gets better grades than him. With my having to repeat a year of school, I might as well have been the "lovable loser" myself. I sure enough felt like him—a loser! While Charlie Brown lacks self-confidence, my own confidence might as well have been in the trash can along with my crumpled-up report card. This experience followed me to Florida and was one of the reasons why I was reluctant to go straight to college after high school.
College-level calculus or algebra was not something I even wanted to attempt. When I was younger, I'd had a tutor to teach me to read and another tutor to teach me the multiplication tables. I succeeded with reading but failed miserably at the other. To this day, I cannot memorize very well. So, I didn't believe in myself enough to attempt college. Even though I had done fairly well in high school, I still wasn't confident enough to try—at least, not yet. Having lived at a boarding school from my sophomore through senior year, I needed a break. I decided instead to take the easy route and take off for Florida.
When I finally moved into my house, it had been almost a year and a half since I graduated from high school. Having worked part of this time for a floor and carpet cleaning company, I decided that I needed more options for a career, and I thought college was the answer. On January 5, 1981, I enrolled at Flagler College as a full-time student. I'd finally give it a try and see how things worked out. It didn't! Within two months or so, I quit and dropped out. This meant losing $1,100 in tuition along with any confidence I still had. Here's what happened to make me quit so soon.
My classes had started, and I'd bought all my textbooks. I don't remember if I stayed long enough to even take a quiz or test. However, I do recall seeing a sign on a classroom door for the Florida School for the Deaf and Blind. The school was looking for student volunteers for the blind department. While still attending my college classes, I volunteered a couple of hours a week, assisting a classroom teacher in the elementary program. This is when I ran into trouble. For some strange reason, whenever I tried to study for school, I just couldn't concentrate, and I had no idea why. This had never happened to me before and has never happened since. I'd always been a conscientious student, but now I had what compares to writer's block. I couldn't focus. I couldn't study. Try as I might, it didn't go away, and I had no choice—I had to quit. Initially, I assumed I just wasn't ready for college. However, I now believe it's because God had other plans for me.
When I dropped out, I continued my volunteer work in the blind school's elementary department. By the time the school year was over, I'd put in 75 hours and was invited to an end-of-the-year awards ceremony. I was recognized and presented with the volunteer appreciation certificate that you see below. During the preceding months, I had gotten to know some of the teaching staff and administration. This eventually led to my being offered a paying job. It was nothing glamorous, but it helped pay the bills. My life started to look a little brighter, even though I began working the 11-7 graveyard shift as a dormitory night watchman. Thankfully, this only lasted about a month or two before I was offered a day job.
A dormitory teacher had been fired for inappropriate conduct, and I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. What might look like a coincidence, I believe was divine providence. I was offered the now-vacant position and continued there for almost a year. I've also included the letter of recommendation I received from the school's principle.
I can imagine that you're still wondering why I'd be considering suicide at this point. Dropping out of college and going to work is not a catastrophic failure. Even Good ol' Charlie Brown fails at almost everything he does, but through hopeful determination never gives up and keeps on trying. Sometimes this leads to great success. While Charlie Brown has his good qualities like being kind, innocent, and gentle-hearted, he also has many weaknesses. Being shy is one of them, especially around "The Little Red-Haired Girl." In the comics, he doesn't know her name, has never talked to her, and hides from her sight because of his shyness.
We expect and understand that an eight-year-old Charlie Brown has some growing up to do. In time, he'll learn from his mistakes, become more self-assertive, less nervous, less shy, and less of a "blockhead." Someday he won't be the "lovable loser" anymore. Maybe in high school, he'll find the courage to finally talk to the Little Red-Haired Girl and even ask her for a date. Perhaps they'll even fall in love and later get married. That's what we hope for him.
What do you think would happen to Charlie Brown if he went on a high school date with the Little Red-Haired Girl and then completely froze up afterward? His strong feelings for her paralyze him, and he doesn't know what to do or say. He hates himself because he fails to talk to her after their one and only date and can't bring himself to tell her that he loves her. His big crush leaves his confidence crushed. He can't get past the fact that maybe he really is a "blockhead." He doesn't know what's wrong with him or why he couldn't muster the courage to talk to her. Perhaps Charlie Brown would eventually lose all hope and contemplate giving up on life. Maybe, in his despair, he'd even consider suicide.
This is exactly what happened to me: I first remember seeing my own "Little Red-Haired Girl" in my 6th-grade class. I was only twelve years old at the time, and it was the same year that I received the Peanuts trash can. The only difference was that she was blonde, and I knew her name. When I was fifteen and she was fourteen, we had our first and only date. From that point forward, I felt like a real-life Charlie Brown. Even though I loved her, I never really spoke to her again—just a few sentences here and there. You can read more about what happened in my earlier post titled The End from the Beginning.
I have countless memories associated with that simple Peanuts trash can and the round-headed "lovable loser." Like Charlie Brown and most everyone, I've faced academic failure, failure in love, and failure in life. During my time at the blind school, I remained unaware of my own blindness—the inability to see a future beyond being single. I couldn't see that I had a future beyond my past failures. I couldn't see that God had a plan for my life—a future worth living. Instead of tossing my past failures in the trash can and moving forward, I wanted to throw my entire life away.
This led to a life-and-death decision: to live or die? To choose life or choose death? The thought of suicide consumed me as I reached rock bottom. At the end of my rope, I sensed something was gravely amiss - a void, an emptiness within me. A loneliness and darkness I couldn't escape. What would my decision be? It would have been great if I'd had someone in my life like Charlie Brown's friend, Linus van Pelt, to ask for advice. In my imagination, the Bible-quoting Linus grows up to become a preacher and leads Charlie Brown to believe in God instead of the elusive "Great Pumpkin." With his newfound faith, Charlie has what it takes to turn his life around.
While I never had a friend like Linus, I was greatly influenced by the Evangelist Dr. Billy Graham. Now, take a look at the picture of the following paid check and notice the date: Nov. 29, 1980. This is the same month that I moved into my house. The check is for a subscription to Billy Graham's Decision Magazine. While I was trying to decide whether to commit suicide or not, Billy, in his faith and scripture-filled articles, was urging me to make another decision—for eternity. A decision for Christ.
While I believed in God, I'd never really surrendered my life to Him. I was still searching, still trying to decide what to do. The only moment of decision that I can recall is one I'll never forget. It's when God directly intervened and made sure I made the right decision about suicide. In a very vivid dream, He showed me what I believed was my future. The decision to live was firmly made. I had to live, if not for myself, then for the family I loved so much and would someday have.
If you too feel hopeless, sad, depressed, or lonely like I once did, I want you to know that things will someday get better, times will change, and the future will be brighter. Don't let the darkness of depression blind you to the truth. The image of your life is much more than what others see and even more than what you see about yourself. The closest thing to "Image is everything" is when you realize that you were made in the image of God, and He loves you!
"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened..." Jesus - in Matthew 7:7-8
"I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture." Jesus - in John 10:9
The next post titled Like the Brightest Sunrise begins at:
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