Oh No, What Have I Done?

29 October, 1989.

Alexandria, Louisiana.

A friend of mine came into the nightclub and told me that he overheard some cops talking in the parking lot. He heard them mention my name and that they were coming into get me. I knew that this day would come eventually. I even told people that if I ever got caught, I would consume everything I had on me and go out in oblivion.

For some reason the day before, I put one hundred Ecstasy pills in one by one-inch plastic zip lock baggies, which I normally used for LSD. This made it impossible to take any more, than the few I had already taken for the night. This single “random” act saved my life.

When I looked up, I saw two sheriffs walk in from both sides of the club, creating no exit for me. As one of them grabbed my arm, I simultaneously dropped my jacket containing all of my drugs on the floor. Outside, I was slammed up against the wall and told not to move by a third officer who was pointing his gun at me. When they searched me, they only found ten cents in my pocket. This made them angry because this was supposed to be a legitimate bust. If they had noticed me dropping my jacket on the dance floor, this would have all been worse for me. Even though I deserved it, I have to say I am glad that they never found it.

One of the cops cuffed me and shoved me into the car, and at that point all the guns were holstered.

As the metal door was locked shut, I realized that this was for real. There was no getting out of this one. All the running, drugs and freedom was over. My stupidity and bad choices led me to this point. I was in jail. My head still numb from the Ecstasy I took before they grabbed me.

My wrists still sore from having the handcuffs on in the car, and while sitting in a chair as the Louisiana State Police interrogated me. I asked for the smacks in the head because I was either smart mouthing, or not telling them what they wanted to hear. They were talking about me, having polluted their community with illegal drugs.

As I lay on the steel bed, in this dark cell, I knew that the, “God, if you could just get me out of this.” prayer was not going to work. At nineteen years old, I had seriously screwed up. My life was such a mess. I think I cried. Not totally sure, but I think I did. Thoughts of my family, who were still living in Germany, filtered into my foggy mind. My parents were probably going to be glad I finally was caught. At least they would finally know where I was. Up until tonight, I could never really tell them. My dad was in the Air Force. If he knew my whereabouts, he would have to turn me in, or be charged for aiding a military fugitive.

I was AWOL.

About six months prior to this night, I had run away from the Army. I believe God was with me but I was not with God.

What was going to happen to me?

Oh no, what have I done?

David Mike is a Christ follower, husband, father, author and Cosmetology Instructor in Omaha, NE. David blogs to share humorous life events and also tell the story of the 3 years spent in the U.S. Army’s Prison, Ft. Leavenworth, sharing the message that we do not have to be defined by our past and that God can use our kind of mess for good.

To read the rest of David’s story, click the book title below.

Dishonor: One Soldier’s Journey from Desertion to Redemption

Originally published at dilemmamike.com