11 Year Anniversary


Nov 17, 2018

Share
11 Year Anniversary...Deepening Roots!
 
“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28
 
I never realized there was a difference in believing that there was a God and belief in God. For even Satan believes God exists, him and his legions thrown out of heaven. To be honest I didn't care one way or another if God existed or not. I didn't have a need for Him, my life was ok. I remember I called on Jesus' name too many times and He never came through...taken in and shepherded by my own pain and those just like me, we learned to put up walls and isolate together – a brotherhood broken and angry molded in our own lack of self-respect, guilt and disrespect for all things human. The gloves were neither on or off I just didn't give God much thought until I needed Him...
 
My mom did the best she could with what she knew to be right with my sister and I. My step father was around of course but was distant, angry and showed love in his own way. I became bitter after so many slaps across the face and discontentment written all over his face with everything I did. Nothing seemed good enough for him. Mom would take us to church every chance she could get and I was baptized at age 7 in Japan. My step father was in the Air Force and stationed in Tokyo.We spent 3 years there on base in Japan, then moved to Charlotte NC and there we grew roots. I was a decent kid, always the quiet one depending on the setting of course, but picked on a lot. Kids confuse meekness with weakness and a lot of the time angry kids are magnetized to those who are weak, finding relief in other's pain taking what they could because they can, temporarily finding solace.
 
Having run in, after run in with bullies in Japan, my mom got me in martial arts with instructors that could not speak english. They just had bamboo sticks, stern voices and no patience for the disrespectful little American mentality. I'll admit it I tested the waters of their patience and so I would come home with lumps all over my head many times until one day my Judo instructor had an end to my stubbornness.
 
He pointed me out and told me to come to the front of our class and out of nowhere he took me down. It felt like he used all the power he had to stretch and tear me limb to limb putting me in every alphabetized wrestling position possible. I tried with my life to escape but I couldn't and with every yelp he only seemed to go harder, and what seemed to carry on for countless hours perhaps only lasted for a couple minutes but seemed like an eternity. I remember he seemed to ease up for a moment, perhaps to change positions to regain his grip strength to pummel me further, ha I deserved it, every bit of it. I took what energy I had left and with everything in me, I gave it all I had and tore out of his grasp and ran out the front door into the street. Running along the sidewalk like he was right behind me, I was crying my eyes out but only running faster. It would have made sense the more emotional I got the faster I went as I drew closer to my understanding mom. I came into the tower, up the stairs to the 5thfloor. I ran inside and into the house yelling trying to explain what had happened. Mom sat me down and helped me learn a valuable lesson. Always be there for others, be strong for them, give them the shirt off your back, protect those who can't protect themselves and never mess with someone who knows how to kill you with their 2 fingers like my instructors did.
 
Haha that's at least what I took away from it, it was a defining moment for me. Strangely enough that stuck with me in my heart and I felt I was almost robotically rebooted and was programmed that way from that moment on.
 
Once we got back to the states my step father took on his new career as an American Airline Pilot, he spent a lot of time traveling which I enjoyed. It was always like walking around on egg shells when he was home. I was doing well in Jr High school, I played soccer since I was 5 years old. I was never any good until a coach came and scouted me out. Long story short I made it onto a select team called the Charlotte United Sting. We won state championships, took our school to the highest levels of accomplishments that you could, all while our Jr high school was battling deep rooted racism. Our success helped a bit for a positive school spirit and unifying at times.
 
We had what you call magnet schools which brought those who lived in the inner city to the hood for elementary, then once we got to Jr High, vise versa. A lot of problems, fights, close down of schools, arrests, you name it it was happening because of this program in place. Nevertheless it wasn't all bad. It gave those who wanted a chance to do well in school a chance they would have never received going to a school no one ever knew about or had the academia prowess for scholarships or scouts to come see. I moved on to high school where my coach seemed to follow ha. He probably had the plan in place before we started winning, well we will go with that at least. It's funny it all seemed so convenient we all thought. He took me under his wing once again and as he assumed the head coach position for Varsity and Jr Varsity, he let me play both. It was my biggest accomplishment and the school made a big deal of it which I didn't mind. Making it onto varsity had never been done before because this was the fist year 9thgrade was a part of high school, I had made it!! Things at home with my step father were the same as it ever was but I don't remember him at any of my games. I'm sure he made it to some, he just didn't make it to enough for me to remember. 
 
At this time I was seeing my high school sweet heart for 3 years now and it was about as serious as it gets. I was 16 years old still pure (meaning we never had sex) which for some reason seemed like the right thing to do. As bad as I wanted to go further we never did, even given all the chances. I wasn't going to church or anything, perhaps some of the teachings of the bible in my early years just stuck in my heart. I wanted to marry her I loved her so much. Interestingly enough in 9thgrade my girlfriend and I had classes together. 
 
Unfortunately at this time, I met Anthony Hopkins (not the actor;). Up to this point I may have been in about 5 fights in all and never once was it for my honor. They all had to do with other kids picking on my friends. This boy had it out for me and I just couldn't figure out why. Every single time I came into the class he would call me names in front of my girlfriend and completely disrespect me making the whole class laugh at my expense. Even the teacher let him run his mouth in class. I was not sure at that time if he thought he had a chance at dating my girlfriend or he just didn't like me for some reason. I never knew him or seen him until the fist day of social studies. Sadly enough as time went by day after agonizing day, she left me. Her mom and dad I could tell never enjoyed me dating her very much. I was a street kid compared to their family's status. Plus I get it, no one matches up to the standard of what you have for your daughter. I didn't wonder why she broke it off. Oddly so many days of my past are so vivid and this was no different. In front of the school gym we met like normal after school but this time was different. I felt something was wrong as she told me she didn't feel like we could go any further, she told me she didn't want to see me anymore as her mom came rolling in to pick her up so conveniently. Just enough time to tell me and go. And just like that 3 years of my life with this woman I saw almost everyday was over in seconds...
 
I wasn't mad, I was totally broken and in shock for a moment but it became the most real defining moment that set the next chapter in my life into motion. It's a bit unexplainable the amount of pain if you have never lost someone before, young or old. I felt the world immediately crumble on top and around me. Life lost its meaning, nothing seemed palatable. Food lost its taste and breathing became a chore. Something flipped inside me. The next couple weeks I believe was a blur. All I remember was a catastrophic mess I was about to leave behind me.
 
My step father was always ready to take action in something wrong that I did, but now I almost seemed ready for the occasion. My sadness quickly turned to anger. I remember my step father not happy with something I did that day and it quickly escalated into our first physical fight. It was never a fight up to this point, he could take me down and he knew it. I was a short skinny kid with nothing to offer anyone up to this point.
 
My mom had just set the table and the food was making its way there. He shoved, pushed and slapped me like you would to make someone embarrassed of being unable to do anything about it. Just hard enough to make a point of him being better than me. He showed such distain, ownership and frustration over me, every hurt bone in my body he made me feel, with every “wrong” thing that never met his approval. Eleven years of never telling me he loved me, while always seeking his approval and love but never getting it, never thinking I was good enough for anyone or anything. Added to every terrible day I had to hear that boy talk down to me in front of the one I loved so dearly with no response given back to him, all the days I was picked on, made fun of came through with the fiercest roar I never knew existed in me. Every piece of glass, hot and cold plate and most of the red sauce dinner mom had worked so long on that were making its way to the table ended up on the ground in thousands of pieces. My mom screaming in the background unable to separate the hate we had for each other, I took him up by his legs slammed him on the ground, balled up my fist, reared it back and with every inch of hate I had, I let it go. But before it hit his face there was 1 millimeter of impossible restraint, almost like I hit a wall...
 
Maybe this hate didn't run as deep as I though it did, perhaps all I truly was looking for was a father who loved me for me.
 
My anger immediately turned to disgust and sadness as I could see his eyes turn red, as my eyes seared into his soul for the first time. I always saw this happening but it felt oh so different. I think we understood each other more than we had ever before, and it was the closest I'd ever seen this man show any emotion. He was an emotionless monster in my eyes.
 
I got off of him, still half in my protective stance. He retreated and immediately made his way upstairs into his room as I did mine after helping my mom clean up a bit. I helped as much as I could, it was hard holding back the tears as my moms were streaming down...I had to retreat into my room. I was laden with as much sadness losing the one I loved, my first love as I knew things would never be the same any more though I felt a sense of freedom.
 
The culmination of all our lives and lack of communication had us head in different directions. My step father drew further away from the home, my mom isolated herself and my sister was away at school working through her own pain he left her with. After finding out years later that my sister was being sexually molested for many years by him, my mom and I reacted in similar ways. My anger took to the streets harder and more disciplined in my drug abuse. My mom's pain drew inward. Unable to cope with everyday life she was hospitalized and until a couple years ago finding peace through Christ and biblical counseling. Mom was working through that pain you could only imagine. It's not everyday you hear your baby girl has been taken advantage of in the worst way, and not by just anyone but by someone you have spent years learning to trust and build a life together. Only to find out he was a master manipulator and now unsure of any of those years and what to believe about him.
 
The one thing my “friends” and I all had in common was that we all came from broken homes unleashing and filling our pain with what we defined as what we needed to not feel what we could not work through.
 
A couple months after the incident with my step father and the loss of my high school sweetheart, I never went to soccer practice again. I quit the team and eventually I was kicked out of school. My high school gang protected its pride against another “click” which after all the drama I was called out and suspended in what I felt was protection of our turf. They sought us out and so me and couple others retaliated. I found myself not ever returning. I gravitated towards alcohol, drugs and terrible relationships that got me in deeper trouble with the law and eventually into making many trips to jail. I lost my licensee at 17 and finally had it suspended for life after 30+ revoked license charges, 5 Dwi's, etc...I went to jail for every one of them except for 2.
 
I was selling cocaine while always working some dead end job, it always felt like that. My step father did teach me good work ethic, he ingrained in me some pretty amazing things I found out later the majority of them when my heart was open to seeing them. I actually still am learning from him the things that he did well, truly profound that we can use all things for good once our hearts are in the right place. The way he went about showing discipline or elements of his work routine anyone would have rejected. You can be right but wrong at the top of your voice (Emerson) but somehow it stuck.
 
No matter how bad I became I was always able to carry on a job up until the last 4 years of my epic train wreck of a life I was living. After cocaine, alcohol and smoking cigarettes lost its thrill and I could no longer fill the void I had in my heart, I looked to harder drugs and anything I could get my hands on. I was drinking all the time and looking for a way out of life. I would have moments asking myself how I got here, and why I was so stuck and unable to live any other life. It all happened so fast and I was in so deep. Those who enjoyed fighting seemed to make their way into my life. I became this guy who wasn't going to start a fight nor was I going to back down, so perhaps I was a glimmer of hope to those needing to be on the “winning” team. Challenges seemed to come too often, I fought a lot and was skilled at least at never backing down. I found myself in fight after fight, problem after problem, jail scene after scene, I finally took a stab at ending my life. I was so tired of waking up hungover with scars, wounds, and my face under construction from the night before.
 
After another night that I could barley remember, hungover and irritable, a friend (we will call him James), and I made our way to the convenient store to grab some cigarettes. We grew up together and created a good bond between us. When my friend went in he was met with an argument at the counter with this wanna be thug. James kept quiet and was able to purchase what we needed, however, on the way out the kid called my buddy some names. He got into the car upset and frustrated. He told me what he said. It was the first time I went looking for a fight that I can remember, with my anger on high I was hellbent to make it right. Oh, the pride of man. As I came in he started in on me talking smack and I drew close to his face as the lady over the counter said for us to please leave, she knew what was coming.
 
I went out the store door first and as I was turning around I was met with the butt of a gun and as my hands went up to protect myself I was hit easily 5 or 6 more times in my face. Who knows how many times he actually he hit me, not having the quick response time I had hoped for, laden with alcohol and consumed with blood streaming from my face all I could see was down the barrel of his gun. I could tell he thought I was supposed to be knocked out at this point, me also, giving the way I felt at that point. This was the chance I was looking for though, I smiled and I came out at him with everything I had left that he hadn't beaten out of me yet. I gave him every chance to pull that trigger. He never did, we ended up rolling on the ground, I got in a couple swings and then he ran to his car and left . Leaving the rubber from his wheels on the road, as I ran after him.
 
I got in the car and the pain settled in feeling like my face was peeled off. I still feel that pain even now, it was almost unbearable. Growing up with a bunch of guys, we found nothing better to do then to get drunk, and test each other's pain limits by seeing how much pain we could give each other without giving up. We knew pain well and prided ourself in that arena. In contrast to the pain we inflicted, this was much worse. I sat in the passenger seat of the car and pulled down the mirror and did not recognize who was looking at me on the other side of the glass. Not to mention the reaction of my buddy's face was priceless, all I can say is I knew by his reaction I had a real problem. All that to say this, I was ready and willing to leave this world, the only thing that was keeping me from doing it myself was my mom. I mean I didn't want her to know I took my own life, I didn't mind someone else taking it but for some reason that seemed to make sense in my drug & alcohol cluttered mind.
 
From that day forward I looked to drugs to take my life, to do the job if no one would. Perhaps drugs would if I did enough of them. My mom took her last opportunity to help save my life after my big accident – the accident that should have done the job.
 
Backing up slightly, my mom saw my struggles and knew I needed something to make me “happy”. So she helped me in buying a car. Though she was enabling me, she was the only one who truly loved me I knew that.
 
The details of my 94 forest green Eclipse was methodical, thought out and executed perfectly. From the tint, to the blackouts, to my $5,000 double chromed rims to my wood grain interior and my state of the art sound system, this car shined brightly. It glistened and every head would turn when my car came onto the scene. I had 13 speakers in it, you could hear me literally half a mile away...
 
Like a pet shakes and wags its tail at you unconditionally when you come home from a long day, so my car would wag its tail at me. I worked hard in the kitchen starting from a dishwasher for 5 years+ and eventually promoted to chef – all to pay for this car.
 
Everything was going great again, until that night. I wrapped my car around a tree going 90mph slowing from 120mph and walked away with no injuries, not even a scratch on my body. Miraculous by all means but I was broken. Again I had lost the most precious idle in my life – my prized car. With each problem weighing down on top of the others I felt like something had to give. The solution to me at the time was not healing or learning from these problems I was creating for myself...I truly did live two lives, the one I wanted people to see and the one I couldn't hide...on the streets, hustling still would be what I knew best. Business was good but life was hanging on me like 100 year old skin.
 
I thought I had made my final mistake. After going to jail and getting hit for another DWI I didn't leave my room for many days, unless I needed to go to the bathroom. My mom admitted me into one of the best treatment centers in the country. Chris Farley found some success there and I thought why not? What else do I have to lose? I stayed in Hazelden for 9 months in the impatient program and did an outpatient treatment facility in Tempe, Arizona for another 3. This was a halfway house to make sure that you can work through the everyday living conditions of an addict and alcoholic while having a good foundation to work through problems or issues. This place as great as it was, only taught me how to be a better drug user, oddly enough. I stayed sober for 1 year like a dry drunk would. I knew I needed to stay sober but my heart was never totally affected according to the purpose and meaning I needed in my life. I didn't know what I was looking for, still searching.
Hazelden quickly became another stepping stone to my final epic fall. Learning only more of what I had at all these other facilities I had to attend in Charlotte NC to keep me out of prison. At 20 years old I could have had a double master degrees in psychology, abuse and mental health counseling with as much time I spent in classrooms learning about drugs, what they can do to you, how they affect the brain, body, smell, taste, how long their affect stays on the body and how to avoid these situations etc...
 
I popped every pill and did every drug out there. Anything that was on street was ready and available but Meth. I had a deep rooted relationship with Pcp, angle dust, Acid, X, heroin, oxy, downers, uppers, you name it I did it. I could do an 8 ball of cocaine myself in less then an hour and still eat, work and function appropriately while high. I was an exceptional drug & alcohol user. I learned what drug increased another and worked well with others to apply to my need and how to not feel the unbearable affect of coming off of certain drugs, etc. However, when I could no longer meet the financial daily demands for those drugs, I figured out how to make crack out of cocaine.
 
That is when I lost any and all sense of direction. Even the direction I didn't have like morality, there was no sense of right or wrong. It plummeted me into the streets of our Mecklenburg hoods and crack/whore houses. I couldn't hold anything together anymore, I was completely immersed for 4 years.
 
My double masters in hard knocks could not have prepared me for the high and power crack cocaine held. It was the highest high I had ever imagined, there were no other drugs that compared. Crack cocaine became my god, I surrendered to it completely. Though the high was so very incredible so was the low and that's partially why we see people doing unbelievable things while on drugs and it's simple really, it's a chemical and hormonal imbalance that take your dopamine, serotonin and oxytoxin to uncharted levels and then crashes them in the same power of its height...My life hit an all time low, there was no where left to go, I had finally hit my bottom I thought.
 
Though crack had me chained, my smoking never stopped since I was 16 years old. It seemed to comfort my every emotion. It's not that the nicotine had full control, it was more like my Charlie Brown blanket. Smoking for me was not always about the fix it was about the hand to mouth, the swagger, the awkwardness or uneasiness I could cover with one cig, it would take all those emotions out and make it look like like I had everything under control, good and confident. You have to have that in the streets or you're done.
 
I was rarely without, I could always muster up $2.50. I was picked up on many occasions by the police and while in jail all I could think about was the cigarettes. What causes fights in jail is stimulated from having a short fuse because we have no comfort blanket. Nothing to supplement with just my own terrible thoughts to keep me company. Moment to moment I become more sober with even more sobering thoughts of the reality and mess I had left and was leaving behind.
 
My buddy (we will call him Jack) came into my life in the nick of time, I owed money to crack dealers and I was losing many places I could get quality crack. He just needed a place to stay and long story short, he entered into the crack lifestyle too. Both of us used everyday for about 3 months. He proved himself to be trustworthy and one day he got up and asked me if I wanted go with him. He wanted to leave town, he said he could not do this anymore. Without question I was ready to go. He had an incredible discipline I could only dream of having. Perhaps it was his elite training at THE United States Military Academy at West Point, (not just any one is selected to attend such a prestigious school). It was not by chance that I met Jack again. His abnormal discipline brought on from his military background and overcoming giants in his life, helped us crawl out the miry clay. You can't just choose to be done with crack, get up from this stuff and go on your merry way!
I followed Him to wake forrest NC and lived with him. I pounded the pavement and got a job at Lazy Boy. I was going through painful withdraws and masked them with drinking. Later I was fired for smelling like alcohol. I was doing all that I could to not think about using crack but that's all I could think about so I was drinking more than ever. I got another job at Sofas & Seats, they needed help and I needed a job so I went to work. My boss was good with anything as long as I could sell furniture.
 
I was able to cover my problems once again with alcohol but like we are all taught in counseling, you can move from place to place but until your heart is changed you will fall back into those same temptations, people and problems.
 
I was doing well at this place and won tickets to the Panther's game for having won the the most sales one month, so I asked Jack if he would like to go with me to Charlotte NC. He said yes but a couple hours later my phone rang and it was his new wife. She said that it would be best if he did not go with me unless she came along, I didn't have the best track record as you know. Basically she didn't trust us alone, I don't blame her now of course, but I sure did did then. She said she would drive since I didn't have a license and with some hesitancy I said yes. We were off.
 
On the way over she said we would all be going to church before the game. Of course I had no control over the car, it wasn't mine and where it went except for the game was up to them. Needless to say I was upset about the situation and had very un-colorful things to say about it.
 
Once we got to this monstrosity of a church I was still furious, but this was the condition to go with my buddy to the football game. I found myself in a pew with the pastor preaching right at me (so I thought). My face turned beet red as he yelled, “When?! When?! When are you gonna change your life...?” I was so uncomfortable but I didn't know what to think, I wanted my life to change but not like this. A week went by and we were back home.
 
My buddy asked if I wanted to go back to church and eventually I said yes. I spent the night at their house the night before so they could keep an eye on me, we did some drinking, they knew how to get me.
 
The next morning On Jan 20th, 2008 at church, the Holy Spirit came over me and when pastor asked if anyone wanted to come to the alter to receive Jesus as their Savior, I got up and literally ran. I was compelled to come to the front. Tears were streaming down my face and I didn't understand what was happening to me. That morning I entered God's family. I was shaken to the core as His power in love overwhelmed me, unable to keep tears from bursting forth, my hands covered my face so no one could see my joyful confusion. I shook my head from side to side in disbelief with a peace that was passing over me all the more as each moment came to pass. I was coming to a realization that this gaping hole in my heart I tried to fill with alcohol, drugs, sex, hate etc. was being filled with what was beyond anything I could make my mind and heart understand.
 
Later that day I went to work and took my break outside as usual to smoke a cigarette. I put it in my mouth ready for its soothing smooth comfort that rolls over your body when you smoke. I've had every kind of cig – good, bad and nasty. This time I thought there was something wrong with my lungs or something. Perhaps it was not penetrating deepenough into my lungs to get the reaction I desired. I tried another cigarette one after another. Lol! My lungs rejected them...how could this be!!??! It was like I was smoking for the first time.
 
In that moment just to show God's power and faithfulness to me in that first day,He took the desire to smoke away and I haven't desired a cigarette since. “How precious did that grace appear - The hour I first believed”. He knew the power that would have on my life because I thought if I couldstop smoking I could quit all other substances. He new EXACTLY what I needed. I smoked hard for 13 straight years up until that day. That was a God I was going to give my life to!
 
I couldn't stay out of the church serving, asking the pastors questions and absorbing everything I could learn. For the first time in my life the hole in my heart was gone and filled perfectly with Christ. To date, when I sing in fellowship with the brethren, my eyes rarely stay dry. My gratitude to Him for showing me a life that was beyond my understanding or style of life pours out. I didn't know anything other than the way I was living for past 13 years. Why or how could I choose anything outside my understanding?! This question went on rattling in my mind until I dug further...
 
I moved in with my sister for a year and a half. Everyone I had spoken with about that day were all hesitant to believe and rightly so. My sister wanted to see this change first hand and so I moved in with her family, it was a good move for us all as a family. Our family moved closer into fellowship with Jesus and each other breaking down walls only He could.
 
Moving into my sister's house provided a great opportunity to apply to Christian schools that would take a chance on such a terrible past. I kept hearing about this amazing school called Moody Bible Institute that teaches those who have a heart for ministry to live it out in more of their life. So I applied and said if it be the Lord's will, it will happen. I couldn't even get life insurance because of my past record and the liability I was. Rarely do people take chances on people who have spent so much time in jail for so many years and never learned to stop.
 
Moody opened their doors to me and so my journey towards understanding the specific purpose and meaning He designed for me personally, was being made known. I was 32 when I started school.
 
As I drew closer to His word and right after my surrender to His will in my life, it become clear to me my need to live a life in honor and praise of the body He has given me. It was a form of worship and praise and being a good steward of what I had been given (Rom 12:1). I wanted to honor Him in any way I could. “Just tell me what You want me to do and I'll do it.” I started working out doing all the wrong things but accidentally losing weight. I hired a trainer with almost nothing to my name. I had hurt myself and had no idea what I was doing. It was so hard to run, my lungs wanted no part of it. I learned a lot, lost 60 pounds of fat and gained lean body mass like I had never dreamed of. I had back/ hip problems because of motorcycle accident that I shouldn't have walked away from. The trainers new what they were doing though they were not too passionate about it, I still learned so much. I was learning more and more and having a blast!
 
I met my wife Heather Davis at Moody Bible Institute. Heather is the love of my life and my best friend. We've been married almost 7 years now and together we have two kids Hezekiah (5) and Kennedi (3) and one on the way. They are my life and bring me great joy. My passion as husband and father is to provide a healthy and safe lifestyle and keep Jesus the center of my life so that I can love them to the best of the ability He provides in me, in my surrender to him daily.
 
God used my new healthy body and passion to financially help me through school and then finally to open up SCE Fitness to help affect people at every level of their life. This place is our ministry and used for His glory.
 
I can't imagine my life without Jesus, there is nothing more important to me than my relationship with Jesus Christ and growing in Him. I know that I cannot have either if I don't regularly and consistently have my quiet time with Him, studying His word and communicating with Him through prayer. I have arranged my schedule so that He's the first person I communicate with each morning. Due to my work schedule, sometimes I wake up at 3am to make sure this happens. It's THAT important. I study the scriptures on a daily basis and I have an open line of communication with Him throughout my day. This is a consistent part of my life.
 
There are so many moments from which to discern, omit and to write that I have done my best to keep to the confinements of my responsibilities of my life now. This testimony is a testament of God's amazing grace with missing pieces of my story but the big idea intact. What I have become, is because of Jesus my Savior. He is the molder and I am the clay.
 
Almost 11 years has passed from that great and glorious day that my heart changed and my life began to take shape. I left behind my hate for my abusive earthly fathers and my incredible need to please everyone in contrast to my Jesus. He gave me hope, purpose and meaning beyond anything I could have ever imagined. Though it is good for me, it's not just for me. Most people say, “good for you Kjay” after hearing my testimony of God's amazing grace. I am no better or more special than anyone else that is or ever will live. He gives life to those who truly surrender and come to an end of themselves.
 
His Word is made alive through our understanding of His death, His life, His resurrection and ascension into heaven. We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory and splendor of God. But He sent His son Jesus Christ to come and die for our sins. And while we were still yet sinners, He died an agonizing and painful death so that we may have life and have it abundantly. Those who have surrendered their lives have eternal life with Him once and for all. We are now in His hands and we can never be plucked from them. We are now ambassadors, fishers of men helping others to understand the purpose and meaning He provides to everyone who calls upon His name.
 
So many have claimed Him and walk in sin habitually. Be careful in who you put your trust in. Many don't serve Him because of “christians” masquerading as followers of Christ, too often we see those claim Him but have no fruit of one who is in love with Jesus. However, many also have asked Jesus into their lives because of Christians who actively live by the Word of God, loving and living with one another no matter their differences. We must love on those who we surround ourselves with. We don't always get it right but remember this, no matter if you have had a run-in with a follower of Christ having a bad day or a “christian” masquerading as a true follower of the Way, it won't matter on that day you take your last breath. Get in touch with His word and learn what He says about His creation.
 
Don't let people in their humanness persuade you from the best decision that you will ever make in your life. Let your walls fall and Let God have His way in you, Eternal life and healing for your soul awaits!