My name is Had.

My name is Had.

You may know me, but you may not know my new name. You may have no idea what I've been through because I do my best to look the same. I am scared to death of you. I used to be just like you. I once held my head up high without propping it on my hymnal.

I was well respected back then, and I even respected myself. I was wholeheartedly devoted to God, and if the truth be known, somewhere deep inside I was sometimes the slightest bit proud of my devotion. Then I'd repent...because I knew that was wrong. I didn't want to be wrong. Not ever.

People looked up to me. And life looked good from up there. I felt good about who I was. That was before I was Had. Strangely, I no longer remember my old name. I just remember I liked it. I liked who I was. I wish I could go back. I wish I'd just wake up. But I fear I'm wide awake. I have had a nightmare. And the nightmare was me. Had.

If I could really talk to you and you could really listen, I'd tell you I have no idea how all this happened. Honestly, I was just like you. I didn't plan to be Had. I didn't want to be Had. One day I hadn't, then the next day I had.

Oh, I know now where I went wrong. I have rewound the nightmare a thousand times, stopping it right at the point where I departed the trail of good sense. The way ahead didn't look wrong. It just looked different. Strange, he didn't look like the devil in the original scene. But every time I replayed it, he dropped another piece of this masquerade. When he finally took off his mask, he was laughing at me. Nothing seems funny anymore. I will never laugh again as long as he is laughing.

If only I could go back. I would see it this time! I would walk around the trap camouflaged by the brush, and I would not be Had. I would be Proud. Was that my old name? Proud? I can't even remember who I was anymore. I thought I was Good. Not Proud. But I don't know anymore.

Would you believe I never heard the trap shut? Too many voices were shouting in my head. I just knew I got stuck somewhere unfamiliar, and soon I didn't like the scenery anymore. I wanted to go home. My ankle didn't even hurt at first. Not until the infection set in. Then I thought I would die.

I lay like a whimpering doe while the wolf howled in the darkness. I got scared. I pulled the brush over me and hid. Then I felt like I couldn't breathe. I had to get out of there or I was sure it would kill me. I didn't belong there. I refused to die there.

I pulled and pulled at the trap, but the foothold wouldn't budge. The blood gushed. I had no way out. I screamed for God. I told Him where I was and the shape I was in. He came for me.

The infection is gone. He put something on it and cleaned it up instantly. As He inspected my shattered ankle, I kept waiting for Him to say, "You deserved this, you know. You've been Had". Because I did and I know and I have. He hasn't said it yet. I don't know how much to Trust Him yet. I've never known Him from this side. My leg still hurts. God says it will heal with time. But I fear I will always walk with a limp.

You see, I wrestled with the devil and he gave me a new name. Had.


*excerpt from When Godly People do UnGodly Things-Beth Moore*