@KingdomOutdoors_DanielMaya

2 weeks ago

I never thought of myself as a smoker. As a teen, I only picked it up casually, and as a young adult facing life’s challenges, it slowly became something I relied on. Even then, I never identified with it—until one day, it got so bad my lungs hurt, and when I tried to quit, I couldn’t.

The enemy tormented me. I would smoke, feel miserable, then guilty. It was a cycle of destruction. The Bible says, “The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy” (John 10:10), and that’s exactly what was happening.

Then one night, after hearing a sermon about bringing your struggles to God—not to friends, not to counseling, not even to your own strength—I finally cried out. I asked God to deliver me from this burning nightmare that was destroying me from the inside out.

The next morning, I woke up different. I didn’t even remember the prayer at first, but the craving was gone. No urge, no pull—only a faint whisper telling me to pick up the pack again.

I gave in and lit one cigarette. Instantly, I almost threw up. I stomped it out. A few hours later, I tried the last one, thinking maybe the first time was a fluke. Same thing—I gagged, nearly vomited, and threw it away.

That was the last cigarette I ever touched. From that day forward, I have never had the urge again.

I called on the name of Jesus, and He set me free. If He did it for me, He can do it for you too

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