Job 1:8 "Then the Lord said to Satan, “Have you considered My servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, one who fears God and shuns evil?”
About three years ago I ended one of the most toxic relationships ever in my life. I had never been so close to the darkness as I was then. That relationship lasted about 7 years. It was the most emotionally and spiritually draining experience we could have ever put ourselves through for me, my ex, and our children. There isn't a day, when I look back at it now, that I don't thank God we survived it! God will use anything to save you from your sin. Paul teaches us in Romans 8:28, we must know that all things work together for good...Had things not gone the way they did, I would not be a saved man writing you today. This was when God had me at my most vulnerable. He needed me to be at my most fragile mind and spiritually broken state, so when I heard the voice of Jesus Christ calling my soul from the tomb of my sin, I'd know it was He and rise a new creation in Him. When I finally let go of what I thought protected me and kept me strong, my anger, my bitterness, the hardening of my heart against others, only then was I able to put on the full armor of God. I was so far off the path, there was no doubt it was He who was raising me up. No one else could, not my spouse, not the next destination, not a church, not even my own family. We spend our lives holding onto bitterness, thinking we create this barrier of hardness against the world we fear when it becomes the chain of our sin around our necks. And so we reject anything good for the fear of pain and more suffering. I felt the Holy Spirit of God tugging on the strings of my heart and soul. The bible teaches, God hasn't given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of sound mind... I didn't realize it then, but I did choose that life of sin. The devil wants you to believe you have no control, but free will is one of the greatest gifts from God. Sin is the opposite of choosing good. God is always giving us opportunities to choose good. Every action, every thought, every word, every habit, anything you choose, is an opportunity to choose good.
I was physically, emotionally, mentally, even spiritually abused as a kid. As far back as I can remember, I was getting whooped or taking a beating. It always felt like my father looked down on me with a sense of disdain and if he was having a bad day, I felt like he usually found some way to take it out on me. I remember being about 9 years old. We lived on a small street called Nelson Ave in the Bronx. Once a ghetto, when I was growing up here, this is where cars got stripped by your cousin down the block. Where your dad sold weed and your uncle sold cocaine. My father told me not to cross the street. What did I do? I crossed the street. My friend had just stolen a wad of cash from his father, who sold weed. The kids next door put him up to it. It was at least $1,000. I was so excited, they had told me they would get me something. I thought about all the things they might get me. I waited at the top of the block across the street for them all morning. After a few hours I got hungry, I figured they weren’t coming back anytime soon. I headed back home. It was then, he had caught me crossing the street. I was more likely to get shot on my side of the street than getting hit by a car on the block while I was crossing. When he saw me crossing, he was pissed. Then he came running down the front stairs and smacked me right to the ground. I just remember seeing a flash of light and static upon impact to the pavement and a lot of pain on the side of my face. He took his belt off and started letting it fly, one whack after the other. I felt the burn of his belt on my thighs. I would have rather been struck by a car. I was in the middle of the street curled into a ball, protecting my face as the belt lashings kept coming. The next thing I knew, my mother came running out to help me and she started taking the beating for me because he did not stop. She pleaded with him, “…don’t hit me out here please.” He didn’t care where he was giving her the beating. He started whipping her with the belt and as he got closer, he smacked her to the ground too. He then picked me up and threw me in his car. He sped off trying to kidnap me. He told me, later on, he came back because I was already too old and knew what he had done. He feared I'd grow to resent him.
I lived in fear of making this man upset. Every time I heard the door open, I prayed that he was not upset. Whenever he walked into the room, I was terrified that I would get hit for something I did, something I didn't know I did. I was around 11 years old when one day, my father had come home from work. He seemed agitated already. I tried to just stay out of sight by going into my room and closing the door as quietly as I could. Then he called me into the living room. I came running because I could hear the anger in his voice and I didn't want him to get angrier that I was taking so long. He told me to get my baseball glove. I ran and got it as fast as I could find it. I was looking at him waiting for the next command, a little puzzled, but ready. He told me to stand on the far end of our living room. He grabbed the softball and threw it straight to my head. I ducked and it broke a picture frame hanging on the wall. He screamed at me and told me not to shy away from the ball, like a little girl. He said I needed to stand in front of the ball like a man. Then he ordered me to throw the ball back. Terrified, I tossed the ball back. Wham! He threw the ball and struck me right in the face. It busted my lip right open and swelled my cheek. I was so scared and in tears and all that seemed to be doing was pissing him off even more. One more time, he ordered me to get the ball and throw it back. Bloody and bruised, I picked myself up, picked up the ball and threw it back at him. Wham! One more time, except this time I took the hit on the backside of my ribs and collapsed to the ground in pain. I begged him to stop! He stormed off to the bedroom. I began to try and compose myself. I desperately tried to stop crying, but I was so scared and didn't know what was going to happen next. I was bleeding, I was in pain. I could hear him coming back and with each stomp of his feet came the weight of his anger. I heard him rack the slide to load a bullet into the chamber of a gun. He yelled, "Do you know what this is?!" It was 22 mm Lady Smith! POW! He shot a bullet into a wooden nightstand and shouted "THAT'S HOW YOU SHOOT!" then racked the slide again to load another bullet in the chamber and put the gun in my hand. He had me point it at his head and screamed in rage, "KILL ME!!” I was distraught. What kind of man beats his son with a softball and then puts a gun in his hand to kill him with it? The father God gave me...
As I got older, I tried harder to please my pops. It felt like no matter what I did, I just could not make him proud. I even moved in with him because I felt wrong for wanting to go live with my mother. There was a back and forth with my mom and dad since I was 12 years old. That went on until about the middle of my sophomore year in high school. My parents had split up. My mother moved us to Yonkers, away from the Bronx, even though that's where I wound up hanging out most of the time. Holland Ave, what up! Barnes Ave, what up! The way I acted out, based on what I had learned a man should be, made it difficult for my mother to manage me, let alone my older sister and younger brother. Let's not forget, she was the only one bringing in the income. My father never really helped us financially. I still wound up going to catholic school though. My mother worked hard for what she thought would serve us best. Shout-out to Sister Monica for always being tough on me. So, here I am, a freshman at a high school in Castle Hill in the Bronx to please my mother and living in Port Chester with my dad to please my dad. For one year I took the metro north all the way up to Port Chester, NY from Fordham Road in the Bronx. I took the bus from Fordham Road to Castle Hill, then back again. It was about 2 hours each way. My dad didn't like me home too late. One day, I missed the train and I got home a little late. It was dark out. I came home and went upstairs to my room. He came up shortly after and asked me why I was late. I told him that I had missed the train. There was traffic and the buses were running behind. It was like a Mexican standoff and I blinked. I was defensive and felt like I had to let him know I didn't do anything wrong. I was doing exactly what I was supposed to and the transportation was late. I did give him a little attitude because I hadn't gotten hit in a while. I guess I got a little too bold because he smacked me so hard across my face that my head hit the floor first. Immediately I pleaded in pain, "aight, aight, please stop! Don't hit me anymore…" He stopped and walked back downstairs. I told everyone at school I had gotten jumped. My face was swollen for about a week.
God delivered me into the hands of my father…and He ordained it all, right? Well, yes. The decisions my father made were his own. Even those decisions work for the good of those that love God. Do you love God? He loves you. Yes, we all have free will, so the decisions we make are ours to make. I don’t blame God for the decisions of my father. I had to come into this world somehow. There is purpose for each of us. After years of holding in all of my anger and resentment towards my father, I chose to sow the peace of the Spirit in my heart and called him to talk about it. He didn't really appreciate us going back in time. It is tough to relive this stuff. I know how I feel about it now because I am writing it. And even though I forgave him, I wonder if he ever forgave himself? We have to confront these issues in Christ so that He can deliver us from the circumstances of our sin. When I am struggling with forgiveness or even bitterness, I remember what Jesus taught us in Luke 11:4, “And forgive us our sins; for we also forgive everyone that is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." For me, the path to peace began with forgiveness. The mere possibility of me being born into this world the way I was didn't happen by accident. The odds of anyone being born are stacked against them from the moment of intercourse to conception. Do you think that was an accident or the Will of God? We spend our lives building ourselves to be a product of our circumstances when God transcends our circumstances. He is bigger than any issue going on in your life right now and we cannot allow our circumstances to define who we are. Jesus has broken the chains of my past and I don't live in that fear anymore. That fear of being something less than what God made me to be. I am still here, aren't I? So are you...
God needed me to break down the identity I created for myself over the years of my abuse so that I can be who He ordained me to be now. I wonder how many of us out there are breaking down who we made ourselves out to be? We all have that gift from God to choose how we respond in all we do. It is harder to do when we feel pain, anxiety, depression, anger, even love. I have learned that’s when we need to guard our hearts to choose Christ even more because the devil is a liar and he will use the truth of your circumstances to tell you a lie about yourself or the people in your life, that will keep you down until the moment you choose to rise. Even he has to go through God to get to you. The devil is a defeated foe and he cannot harm you. Jesus is in my heart and as long as He is there, He is in my relationships, He will walk with me at my job, He is my friend, and looking back at it, He was the one who picked me up when my father did not, He was the one telling me I can't shoot my father.
Father, I pray that you soften the hearts of those holding onto the weight of their circumstances around their necks. Let us rest under the yoke of Christ and learn from Him and the message you have left for us. Let all those in pain find solace in Your name, let all those who are suffering, find relief in Your Word. Let us all find peace in forgiving those who have hurt us, for it is not our burden to carry. Thank you Father for all that you have done in my life and in the lives of those around me. In Jesus name, Amen.
Comments