This song has left one of the biggest marks upon my life. Before you give this a listen, let me tell you the backstory before I found this song. This is the defining moment of my life, characterized by one of my most endeared songs.

3 years ago, I was spending my summer break from university in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania with my closest friends and family. I was having the time of my life; a picture-perfect scene. My early adulthood was being spent camping, adventuring, and growing with my closest friends. I had my dream car, a full ride scholarship to university, and was starting to get shredded. My spiritual growth was amazing as well! I was full of pride with who I was and walked with an air of confidence.

And then on July 14th, 2016… It was all wiped away.

I was driving my standard 100+mph on some Amish-country backroads, when I lost control and spun out into a telephone pole. I SHOULD have died. The rescuers, onlookers, and hospital staff all expected me to die. My parents got a call from the hospital, being told that they probably wouldn’t be able to make it in time to say goodbye. And if you take a look at the impact, you would understand why. I took the entire brunt of the crash onto my body without so much as an engine block to cushion the blow.

But by the grace of God, I survived. And through the power of prayer, I went through recovery without any permanently debilitating injuries.

But even if I survived, I had lost everything. My dream car was folded in half. My internal organs were crumpled, and I broke my face, jaw, and most of my lower body. As a result of those injuries, I lost 50lbs of muscle and the ability to walk. And to top that off, I was using this tragedy to mask the fact that I flunked out of school and wasn’t returning.

The picture that I so carefully crafted for everyone around me had been shattered. Everything that I built my image and pride upon was gone.

I had been completely broken, and it was completely my fault. It was my own pride and arrogance had led me here. The sands that built my foundation upon had shifted in the storms, and I was left with nothing.

But whose fault it was didn’t mean that I wasn’t upset at God; oh no! He had put conviction on my heart, but couldn’t He have just prevented the wreck instead? He had already saved me plenty of times without so much as a scratch on my car, so why didn’t He do that again? I had personally seen Him give sight to the blind, so why didn’t He heal me faster? My prayers never ceased, so why didn’t my flesh and bones spontaneously rebuild?

I spent hours a day in the hospital toiling with God, trying to find out WHY this happened to me. Why doesn’t he heal me? Am I too stupid to take the healing that the stripes on His back had paid for? Or had my disobedience surpassed His tolerance for me?

Despite all of this though, I put on a smile for everyone that talked to me. I was the perfect picture of a miracle by the hand of God, so I had to act like it. But deep down, there was a frustration and anger welling up.

Eventually, I started regaining muscle and learned to walk again. I said goodbye to all my family in Pennsylvania and finally came back home to South Carolina, where I continued my recovery. I tried to go through rehab and just move on with my life, but I couldn’t get past the shame of what I had done. No longer was I known as the guy with the sick sports car, but the one who foolishly smashed one to pieces. And the people around me didn’t help; EVERYONE that I saw brought it up. And why wouldn’t they? It was an incredible testimony… But I was sick and tired of looking back on it.

Instead of having a reverence for the miracle, I only felt shame. And to add fuel to the fire, being around my dad made me feel like a failure of a son. When I was young, my dad promised me that he’d spend savings he set aside for my college fund on the car of my dreams if I got a full ride to university. But I threw both of those away. And instead, I left behind nothing but medical bills, heartache, and a man-child that was incapable of helping himself.

I wanted to get away from the constant reminders of what I had become. I despised myself, and most days, I wished that I would have just died in that car accident. So much of my time was spent imagining the tiny details of the accident that could have changed that would have let me die in peace.

And every time that I drove to my dad’s pickup to physical therapy, I wondered how quickly I could end it if I just swerved into the oncoming semi in the opposite lane. Nah, that’s too dangerous; I’d hurt someone else in the accident. Maybe I could slit my wrists? That won’t do either; I’d traumatize whoever found me for life. Poison? Same story. You know, I could run far away, and kill myself in a way that would leave me unidentifiable; my family wouldn’t even know that I was dead! Couldn’t do that either, that’d leave them searching for the rest of their lives on false hope. There just wasn’t a good, clean way to get rid of myself. The only thing that kept me from taking my life was knowing that I’d only increase the burden that I was already being.

And one day, I finally quit putting on an act and broke down. I barricaded myself in my room, blared the most brutal death metal and hardcore that I could find, and wept on my bedroom floor, crying out to God. And as I was crying out to God “Father, do you even love me anymore?,” my dad kicked down my door and started screaming at me. In that moment, I felt like that was a physical manifestation of God’s answer to me: He hated me.

My parents called the police to try and forcefully get me into a mental care facility, fearing that I’d take my life. My parents cried and told me that they didn’t know how to help, and honestly, I didn’t want them trying anymore. I declined the ride to the hospital from the EMT’s, and the police couldn’t forcefully take me, so I stayed. And the next day, after hearing about the incident, my sister opened up her home in Texas for a fresh start; I immediately jumped on that chance to get out.

And from there, I packed up, and moved across the country to start anew.

I still hated myself. And when I wasn’t at work, all I could do was spend my time drowning out my sorrows with loud, emo music and videogames.

I was still talking to God, but I wasn’t some pillar of faith. I had so much doubt and fear. It felt as if I had fallen so far that I could not come back. There was still the tiniest parcel of hope within me though.

And one day, I was just sitting there listening to music, when this song comes on.

August Burns Red is one of my favorite bands, so this wasn’t a new song for me, but in that moment, I felt it resonate with me for the first time. There is very little lyrical content to it, but I could feel the journey with the instrumentals preceding and following these lyrics.

The people who survive the sword will find favor in the desert [Jer. 31:2]
I will build you up again and you will be rebuilt [Jer. 31:4]

I am the painter, making this mess a masterpiece
I will rebuild you up again

I felt God speaking to me, directly. He was telling me that all hope was not lost, and that He would build me back up to my former stature. I put that on repeat and broke down weeping on the floor for an hour, unable to grasp that.

I held on to that so, incredibly tight. That song lulled me to sleep every night. And a sticky note on my bedside dresser reminded me of it every time that I woke up. Those words were the anthem that I sung, day in and day out. That instrumental journey described what I was going through. It wasn’t a straight path upwards, but instead up and down. The drums and guitar would slowly build and grow with me in my periods of growth, and then they’d get chaotic in my breakdowns and panic attacks. But through it all, I kept going, just as the song did. The journey was just as important as the destination.

From there, my faith started to grow. I started to read my Bible again, I found a church, and I was putting the pieces of my life back together.

It started out small. I cleaned up my room for once. Then I organized my closet. After that, I started working out again. From there, I started studying for work. I’d get out of my comfort zone and meet people. I even started volunteering at church for the first time in a long while. It wasn’t all easy; I had my ups and downs. But that melody just kept reminding me that despite the battles, the downfalls, and stagnation, I was on a journey.

And slowly, but surely, I was rebuilt. And once I had realized that, I was overwhelmed. I looked down at myself, and saw that I was 160lbs again; able to walk, run and jump as if nothing has happened! My faith and relationship to God was not only restored, but better than ever. And I was making something out of my life for the first time, instead of being handed a loaded deck.

God is good. And He will never abandon me, even if my ego takes me down a different path. And from here, He only has bigger plans for me. Once, I thought that I had fallen so far, that I could never get back up again. But now, He has built me up so much more than that point, and He’s still not done.

I am so grateful for the guys from August Burns Red. Through this song, and many others, they built me back up, and gave me hope for another day. Songs like Spirit Breaker, Composure, and Redemption shined a light into my periods of darkness.

Since all of this had happened, I was blessed to see them twice in Dallas. I am so glad that I could not only see them live in concert, but meet them in person!

This last tour for their 10-year anniversary of Constellations, they played Meridian live for the first time, and it was incredible! During that song, I was walking through that journey all over again. It was one of the most surreal feelings that I have ever experienced; it was a supernatural encounter that I could feel my spirit rejoicing in His glorious mercy. That reverence that I couldn’t feel before was flowing for an even bigger miracle than keeping me from death; the restoration of my spirit.