How a Cry Broke a Smoking Addiction
“I was not raised in a Christian home. My parents never took me to church. I never heard that Jesus loves me. I don’t recall even ever holding a Bible.
“By the time I was 17, I smoked 2–3 packs of cigarettes a day. I lied, stole, and cursed everything and everybody. One day, a friend asked me why I cursed so much and challenged me to go to church with him. I laughed and called him a bunch of names.
“I knew that he was different. He didn’t steal or smoke or cuss like I did. Somehow I felt compelled to take him up on his challenge.
“For the first time, I heard that God loved me and that he had a purpose for bringing me into the world. Three weeks later I trusted Christ for salvation and began my new life as a Christian. All my evil habits dropped off except for smoking.
“I wanted desperately to quit this habit, but nothing seemed to work. I would tear up my cigarettes, then buy more. I would mash each cigarette as I said, “I hate you, I hate you.” but then I would go out and buy more packs. My parents also smoked, which added to the difficulty of quitting. I even prayed to quit, but kept going back to my destructive habit.
“One January morning I was sitting outside a newspaper station in Jacksonville, Florida, at 4 in the morning waiting for the papers to arrive so I could begin my delivery route. I was so burdened to quit smoking, and I was also keenly aware of my inadequacy to do it. From the depths of my being, I literally yelled, ’God, take these cigarettes out of me!’
“With gratefulness to God, I can honestly say that I have not touched a cigarette since that day—over 60 years ago.”