Darkness to Light

by Dru Crochet 

My grandmother was a devout Catholic who wanted to be a nun…before she had twelve kids. 
She encouraged me to earn all of the seven sacraments:
baptism, confession, communion, reconciliation, marriage, confirmation, 

I remember wanting to go to church and having to convince my mother that I was old enough to make that decision for myself. I drew priests and crosses in my spare time and they finally saw my desire.

By late middle school, my desire and fire faded. I saw church as a complete waste of time and refused to attend. I would drop my siblings off and ditch class to go hangout with friends. 

When it was time for me to get confirmed, I had so many questions. Instead of providing guidance and answers, I was basically told to do as I was told. It became about complying without question and choosing the right sponsor. I ended up being confirmed only because I was threatened with being grounded if I refused.

That is when anger set in.
I was so mad at my parents that I would go outside and look up at the sky and curse God.

I vividly remember saying that I would give up my soul. Just prior to graduating high school, I started doing an ouija board and dove into black magic. I lived with my aunt and know I let darkness into her home. When my grandmother heard about things that were happening, she came over and cleared all of my things out. I remember feeling immediate panic.

I graduated and watched multiple friends land in prison. Some for drugs, others for burglary, and even some for murder. I had always wanted to become a Marine, so that’s what I did.

A lot of things happened in the Marines.
I have no doubt that I should be dead. 

While I was in, I continued the ouija board and learned how to read tarot.
All of this time, I had never read the Holy Bible.
Just the satanic bible and the wiccan bible.

After years spent serving in the Marines, I became a police officer.

A lot more has happened since being in law enforcement. I have been shot at and had knives pulled on me. I have fought for my life in a muddy ditch and had my patrol unit rammed into. One instance stands out.

A guy had been holding his family hostage with a shotgun. He ran into the back of his house towards a barn and we were searching for him. We started clearing the barn, and the further we got in, the more apprehensive I felt. I knew something was about to happen. We got to the last room and I remember thinking, I am about to die. If I’m not supposed to go in there, tell me now. At that moment, my sergeant radioed for us to return back to the house. I won’t know for sure, but I believe the suspect was in that room. 

Through all my service, both in the Marines and law enforcement, I have lived by two words: No fear. 

I have been in law enforcement for twenty four years. I have worked as a jailer, patrol officer, and detective. Most recently, I was the Patrol Corporal, training the new guys. 

Last year, I dropped one guy off after training. He called me shortly after that to tell me that he had Covid.
That night, I started to feel a little off but thought it was all mental.
No fear. Keep going.

I thought I would feel bad, take time off, and get right back to it. That was on a Monday.

I woke up Tuesday feeling worse and ended up testing positive. I rode out the symptoms until Friday. By Saturday morning, I couldn't breathe. I stayed in the garage apartment to isolate myself from my family, so I called my wife to get the fire department to the house or bring me to the hospital. I wasn’t sure if I laid there for 2 minutes or six hours, but help wasn’t coming fast enough. I walked downstairs and told my wife to bring me to the emergency room now.

We found out that I couldn't breathe because my right lung had completely collapsed. 

As the doctors and nurses worked on me, I couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. I called my dad and told him, I don’t know what they are supposed to be doing, but I don’t feel like they’re saving my life. I think I’m going to die in this hospital.

I had an aunt and a cousin who died two weeks prior just two rooms down from me. Another aunt, a doctor, along with my family fought for me, and I was transported to St. Luke’s. I don’t remember much of anything from these days, but I now know I was placed on a ventilator and flown to Houston.

When I got to Houston, I was brought immediately to a RotoBed

The problem went from breathing to bleeding. Every time they stuck me I bled uncontrollably. The trauma led to bleeding on the brain, multiple strokes, and multiple blood transfusions. At any moment I did come to, I would attempt to rip out any lines to tubes that I could reach. Eventually, they put a trach in and strapped me down to the axles of the bed to protect me from me. They even had to suture some lines to my head. 

Meanwhile, the vent was not scrubbing the blood like it should and I was slowly dying. My gallbladder completely shutdown and was removed, then I was placed on ECMO, a machine that filtered my blood for me then returned it to my body.

While I unconsciously fought for my life, my family was gathered to discuss pulling the plug. I was told that my dad lost it when they gave him this decision. He came to my room, laid across me, and begged me to fight with everything I had in me. 

There are pictures of this time where I am sitting up with my eyes open, but I don’t remember anything. I know that I could hear people during my coma. I could hear them laughing, joking, and talking, but it is all so vague and cloudy. 

What I do remember are the visions and dreams I had:

One of my most vivid visions was of me on a traffic stop like I have done so many times before. I was fighting the suspect and got stuffed into the back of my own patrol unit. There I was, hopeless and handcuffed in full uniform. In the vision, it was night outside and the light was on my patrol unit. You could see in the tinted windows, but I couldn’t see out. 

As I fought, I heard my father on the other side of the window with who I believe was the nurse. It was as if the window was the veil that I couldn't break through. The wall I couldn’t get through. The barrier between consciousness and me. 

I grew angry, fighting to get out. I thought, I’m stuck inside my own patrol unit and you’re outside laughing. You’re so close, just look inside. 

I grew so tired of fighting. Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, my vision brought me back in time to the middle east. I was in my Marine gear fighting in the desert sand. 

I bounced back and forth in time. Law enforcement to Marines, and back again.
I never questioned it. I knew it was my duty.
To fight without fear.

I made a decision to stop because I wanted to rest.

The moment I surrendered I realized I was in a hospital bed.

Still in a vision, a doctor walked through the doors. He had on scrubs, a white coat, a mask, protective glasses, and a shower cap. He walked to my bedside, pulled back the covers, and started rubbing my feet. Then, he asked to pray for me. What are you? Are you a priest?

He responded, No, I’m not a priest.

Are you a brother?

No, I’m not a brother. I’m neither of those. You can call me what you want.

I needed to understand who this man was. 

He finally answered, I’m connected to the chapel at the hospital.
By the way, you need to come visit sometime.

I decided to call him Chaplain. In law enforcement and the military,
that’s what we called them. How about I just call you Chaplain?

That seems rather fitting. I believe that’s a good choice.

I’ll come visit, where is the chapel?

On the first floor.

In my mind, I kept thinking he is not just asking to pray with me.
He wanted to give me the last rights. He knew this was the end.

So, I challenged him, If you’re not a priest you can’t read me my last rights.
If you’re a brother, you can’t read me my last rights. 

I could tell he was discouraged. 

I’m gonna go. If you need something, you can call me back here.

The lights faded and suddenly it was dark.

Physically, I didn’t move, but somehow I am standing up in a hospital gown. I remember being so confused and feeling so alone; I stood naked and barefoot. I was so used to having some sort of boot on my feet. I felt vulnerable and unsafe. 

The darkness was so incredibly vast. It was the blackest black, reaching as far up, down, left, and right as I could see and feel. I was afraid to take a step, thinking that I might get lost. 

Suddenly, I realized I wasn’t alone anymore. I recognized a cloud in the corner of the room. As soon as I saw it, the cloud started growing and morphing and moving. No fear. I started walking towards it, and it continued to grow. It outgrew the room, somehow completely filling the vastness of black. I sensed something inside of the cloud and prepared to fight whatever it was. .

I stood at the threshold of the cloud, trying to talk myself into stepping inside. I knew that I was about to prepare a deadly battle. Something in me thought, Maybe you don’t have to do this. Maybe instead of pretending that I’m not afraid, I can just admit that I am scared to death. 

I turned from the darkness and started asking for Chaplain to come back. I knew I needed to admit my fears to him. A door opened and a pure, clean, beautiful, brilliant white light shone from the other side of the door.

The light hit me in the chest like a force field. I turned around just in time to see the cloud shrinking down and returning to the corner that it came from. I turned back expecting to see Chaplain, but instead I saw a silhouette. This silhouette needed no introduction. I knew exactly Who it was. Jesus Christ.

I thought back to me at 19 in the Marines. There was a time that I would have killed him simply because he was middle eastern. I felt shame for a moment, then began apologizing. I unveiled my tattoo to show Jesus. It says infidel in Farsi. Then I showed him the one that says No Fear.

I followed my own rules and fought my fear alone for so many years.  

For the first time, I admitted my deepest fear.
I’m afraid and I don’t want to go into that cloud... 
but if you want me to go, I will go.

He reached out with his right hand and grabbed my left shoulder and said, Dru, I fought that battle for you a long time ago. I just need to know if you want me to save you.

I felt so ashamed because I have been so horrible to Jesus Christ.
He didn’t care. He just wanted to know if I wanted His salvation.

I need you to do something for me. You need to wake up.

Sir??

You need to wake up.

I was so confused.

Dru, wake up.

The volume started coming from in front of me, not within me. I woke up and it was my uncle, the one married to the doctor who fought for me.

I regained consciousness and came to three and a half months after being in a coma. I had gone from 221 pounds to 163 pounds with long hair and a full, wild beard. 

In the Marines, I was taken by medevac to a U.S. Army unit. It was this same uncle’s unit that relieved mine. For a moment, I thought I was back there. I thought that I had been injured far more severely than I thought. 

Day after day, I gained more pieces of the puzzle. I was shown pictures and videos. I was explained the long timeline of events that had gone on while I was in the coma. My life had changed so drastically without me really even knowing. 

As I recovered, I started looking for confirmation that I wasn’t crazy. I wanted to know that my vision wasn’t from the coma or drugs.  I needed to know that it was Jesus who met me in the darkness.

While talking to my friend, Jimmy, I felt compelled to tell him my story.
Before I could even finish, he said that I needed to talk to Terry Manuel. 

Terry faced the same darkness, but he felt immense peace. 

So, why did I feel such fear at that moment?

Terry explained, I didn’t feel fear because I knew Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. 
He brought me to that darkness to show me the reality of hell.
You felt fear because you didn’t know Jesus. 
He brought you there to save you.

That’s exactly what Jesus Christ did.
He pulled me from my deepest pit and set my feet on solid ground.
He heard the cries of my loved ones and came to me in my coma.
He forgave me from years of false religion and dark sins. 

Since that vision, I look for confirmation all around. 
Jesus has spoken to me about friends that I have lost.
Jesus has shown me how to anoint my home in prayer.
Jesus has led me to start gardening and abiding with Him.
Jesus has placed people in my path to help me heal.

I know that my story may not be for everyone, but He told me to share it for the one.
For the one deep in dark sin and cannot see a way out.
For the one who has cursed God and fears the consequences.
For the one who is tired of fighting and wants to give up.
For the one who has lived all their life hiding their fears.
For the one battling demons and wanting freedom.

Jesus Christ will come to you when you call out to Him.

I love the LORD, for he heard my voice;
he heard my cry for mercy.
Because he turned his ear to me,
I will call on him as long as I live. 
The cords of death entangled me,
the anguish of the grave came over me;
I was overcome by distress and sorrow.
Then I called on the name of the LORD: “LORD, save me!”
The LORD is gracious and righteous;
our God is full of compassion.
The LORD protects the unwary;
when I was brought low, he saved me.
Return to your rest, my soul,
for the LORD has been good to you.
For you, LORD, have delivered me from death,
my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling,
that I may walk before the LORD in the land of the living.
Psalm 116:1-9

There is salvation for you and it’s not too late. 
Wherever you are today, ask Him to save you. 
Ask Him to shine His precious light into your darkness. 
Ask Him to come to You and believe that He is there. 

I know how the Lord shined in my darkness, and I want the same for you.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
John 1:5