When I was a year old, my parents broke up. We moved around a lot. My mom remarried to a man I adored and then divorced. I never saw him again. Mom married again, and her third husband used to beat me. He beat my dog and sent him to the pound. When my friends came over, he would do something to make it unenjoyable, and they would never come back.
Every week, we went to church. We went to bible study on Wednesdays and Sunday school. My mom’s third husband was the pastor. My sister was born, and I took care of her as a baby. She loved me, and it felt like she was the only thing I had. My Mom was using marijuana. I started stealing it from her when I was 11. I was outside one day, and some high school guys were trying to roll a joint, so I stepped in and rolled it. They were impressed. I took more weed, and they taught me how to sell it. I always had money in my pocket. I would go to school loaded, looking for attention from friends.
When I was in 7th grade, my step-brother came and spent the night.
I got up early to make breakfast and was watching TV. My step dad asked if I had made anything for his son. I said no because he was still asleep, and I got one of the worst beatings ever. My step-brother told my grandparents, and they took me in. They were well off financially and showered me with gifts. I had everything a child would want. I played sports and got good grades all thru high school. I was friendly and had a lot of friends.
When I turned 18, I left and never went back. I had another side to me and wanted to prove I wasn’t a rich kid. I started selling drugs. I went through college drinking and partying. Then, a terrible thing happened. M granddad found he had prostate cancer. I left school to come home and be by his side. I started driving delivery trucks. I worked good jobs and sold drugs on the side. Eventually, I stopped selling drugs. Some guys came, kicked in my door, duct taped and pistol whipped me, and took $30,000.
I decided to become a DJ. I had the lights and big speakers, and I was busy every weekend. I started taking trips out of town. I got another job, I got close to a girl that ran a bar, and I DJ’d every weekend. I was introduced to cocaine. I tried it and loved it. One night, I was with a girl and had my phone turned off. When I woke up, I had a bunch of messages. My granddaddy had died.
I started smoking crack, and I could not stop. When I was 37, I met a woman and ended up getting her pregnant. I quit smoking until a year later when we broke up. I ended up in and out of rehab multiple times. I could never get it together. I’d stay sober for a year then be right back at it. At the age of 43, I went to jail for the first time on a Paraphernalia charge. I went to court and received a fine, but I didn’t pay it. I took grandma’s car, and I was gone for a week. She called the police. I drove the car to the jail, said I had an outstanding fine and warrant, and asked them to please take me and put me in rehab. They wanted to let me out the next day, but I begged them to let me stay. I was put in the program for 30 days, and I told my lawyer to make it so that I stayed for 60 days. I started writing and had to write a poem for graduation. I was asked to recite my poem. I did well for about a year. I was performing poetry, and people were asking me to come speak. The jail even had me come back and speak.
One day, I hurt my back. My mom gave me a pain pill, dilaudid. I started itching, feeling down, and nodding out. I took the car, got high on crack, and was gone for a week. I went to jail again. Two weeks later, my mom had a heart attack and died. I went on a binge. I ended up going into an outpatient program for a year and moved to South Carolina. Pretty soon, I was back to shooting up, had no family, and faced homelessness. I was sleeping under bridges, stealing, and scamming for money for dope. I ended up moving to a boarding house, but I couldn’t pay my rent. I put as much as I could into two trash bags and left in the pouring rain.
I eventually entered a faith- based rehab. It was a six month program, and you weren’t allowed to work during that time. I walked in the door and didn’t know what to expect. The first 30 days, I’d meet with the counselor every week. I trusted him and said I would do whatever I needed to. I went Level 1 after 30 days. The instructor challenged me to think. It had been a long time since I had to sit and read and think. I was against everything at first. I watched a film that answered a lot of questions.
I became more open and got deep into the word. I read the New and Old Testament. I was amazed by the real life stories and characters in the Bible. When I got into the New Testament, I felt the loving hand of Jesus Christ. We were not allowed to lead devotion until Level 3. When I was in Level 2, an RA asked me to do the devotion. When I got up to the pulpit, it all came out. I gave my testimony, and everyone was crying. While talking about my mom, I realized my mistakes were not her fault. I made my own decisions to do things, and I manipulated people and situations. Up until that point, I never knew how to forgive myself. I carried my burden, but it suddenly came off of me. Eventually, the Level 3 counselor promoted me to Level 3 and asked me to be an RA. He said I was a leader. I found a church I fell in love with.
I started serving at the church. I got an internship doing rescue with the homeless in Greensville. I had a gift of understanding scripture and making it understandable to someone else. I applied to trucking school and got in. I connected with other truckers who are Christians or Christian Truckers and have become spiritual advisors to me. They saw something in me and understood that I have an assignment from God. I now know why God put a desire for trucking in my heart. I can speak to anyone from a country club to a corner store.
God allowed me to go through all of this. He had His hand on me. He had work for me to do, and I now understand it was necessary in order to get me to where I am today. Relationships are being restored, and God is continually putting people in my path.
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