A loving father - A Life Changed by God - Column

One night when I was about 14 or 15, my mom came in drunk and began to argue with my dad. I remember it was dark in the house. She opened my bedroom door and said to me, "I wish I'd never had you." And then she called me some choice names. Here I had been asleep and not bothering anybody and to get wakened like that by somebody I loved made me angry. After all the years of going through that, I kind of snapped. I picked up a heavy bar I'd been using to do exercises and followed her as she staggered down the dark hallway. I reared that bar back to hit her with it and my dad grabbed it. I didn't even see him but my dad was behind me and he grabbed that bar. I can remember turning around. I hadn't really wanted to do that but being a young kid and hurting inside, that's all I could think of...The years of my young life had brought me to that place.

I'm a Choctaw Indian and was born in Oklahoma. My parents moved to Dallas, Texas to find work but they were new to the big city and not comfortable with me going to school there so I lived with my grandmother and went to school in the small town of Atoka. I spent summers with my parents and remember that every Sunday would find us at the lake with my uncles, aunts and cousins. We kids would play football, volleyball or softball. The men would play horseshoes and the women would prepare food for us all. We had good times together as a family.

When I lived with my grandmother and great-aunt in Oklahoma, we didn't have money to buy a car. Our home was out in the country.

One night a car came driving up and two white gentlemen got out of the car. This was very unusual because whites and Indians didn't visit each other in those days. These men were out sharing the Gospel and they invited us to their church. My grandmother and great-aunt received the invitation but they said, "You have to come get us because we can't drive and don't even have a vehicle." So we began to visit this all-white church and people there accepted us. They made sure we got to the places we needed to get to and I can honestly say God was working in that church. I was in the third grade then, and being a typical little boy I didn't pay much attention to the sermons. We were busy playing and making faces and writing notes while we sat in the back pews. I did get more out of the Sunday School classes where things were explained to me.

I was twelve when a sermon about heaven and hell being real caught my attention. One of the things I remember hearing the preacher say was that if you'd never asked Jesus into your heart, if you'd never confessed Him as Lord and if you died like that, you would go to this place called hell. That began to bother me. A few weeks later, on November 11, 1979, I remember listening to the whole sermon and wanting to go down the aisle to talk to the preacher. Suddenly I didn't care what my friends would say. I walked down to the front and took the preacher's hand. He asked, "What did. you come down here for, son?" And I said, "I want to be saved." He read the Bible verses from Romans 10 again and said," Do you confess Jesus as Lord?" And I said, "Yes sir, I do." He asked, "Do you believe God raised Him on the third day?" And I said, "Yes sir, I do." I was just a little 12-year-old kid but by faith I accepted what God's Word said. The preacher prayed a prayer with me. He said, "That prayer won't save you son, it's what you believe out of God's Word by faith." I accepted Him that day.

I moved to Dallas for my eighth grade year. One of the things I had to deal with all these years growing up, something I haven't mentioned yet, was alcoholism in my family. My mother was an alcoholic. My parents would argue and fight a lot. When my momma got paid on a Friday she'd leave and I watched her walk across the yard. I didn't know what was going on, just that she was leaving. On Sunday evening I'd sit by the window and wait for her to come home. When she came I'd run to hug her and kiss her because I loved her.

Our relationship got worse

There were many nights when she would come home late and automatically begin to argue with my dad. I can remember being woken up to the sound of glass being broken at 3:00 in the morning. My dad had given his life to the Lord and was very active in the church. But I started to resent my Mom, expecting her to go away and expecting to be wakened with the sound of breaking glass. I didn't want her there any more. I asked my dad, "Why don't you divorce her?" He just looked at me and said, "I love her, son. That's your mom. You just have to be patient and pray for her." I couldn't understand that even though I was saved.

One night when I was about 14 or 15, my mom came in drunk and began to argue with my dad. I remember it was dark in the house. She opened my bedroom door and said to me, "I wish I'd never had you." And then she called me some choice names.

One day I kind of snapped. I picked up a heavy bar I'd been using to do exercises and followed her as she staggered down the dark hallway. I reared that bar back to hit her with it and my clad grabbed it. I didn't even see him hut my dad was behind me and he grabbed that bar. I can remember turning around. I hadn't really wanted to do that but being a young kid and hurting inside, that's all I could think of. He didn't hit me. He didn't curse at me. He didn't throw me out of the house. He hugged me and be cried with me and he loved me. I remember going back to my bedroom and I just cried and cried and cried. The next day was a pretty, sunshiny day and my dad wasn't speaking with me. I don't know if he was mad at me or was just giving me room. I went out to where he was washing the car and I felt so bad. I looked at him and said, "Dad, I'm sorry. I've had enough. I don't know what else to do." He said, "Don't do anything you're going to regret for the rest of your life. No matter how wrong she is, she's still your mother."

They eventually got a divorce. I began to skip school and my grades slipped. Life for me was never the same after that. I moved back to Oklahoma and continued school there--mostly so I could play football. At about age 16 I gradually quit going to church and started to drink.

Time passed. My dad went blind because of diabetes and he moved from Texas to live with me. He became active in the church but I just went on holidays.

I became an alcoholic and began to deal in drugs, even snorting cocaine and crack. I knew I was wrong because God still spoke to me. Even in my drunkest hours, even in my highest frame of mind, God would still speak to me and tell me in my conscience and my mind, "I'm still here and I still love you. You can still come back." He was still loving me even though I was ignoring Him. My dad was always praying for me and He would tell me that from time to time.

I met a young lady by the name of Sheralyn. We went out to clubs together and we had a baby girl. We moved to Oklahoma City and had a son. During this time God began to deal with me. I knew in my mind I had to do what was right because I did love her so I asked her to marry me. She agreed and we got married. Every now and then we would visit a church but we weren't serious.

I began to take them on Sunday mornings but in my heart I knew that wasn't enough. I know that, just like any other daddy, any other caring father, God would discipline His children when they do wrong and reward them when they do right. I finally sat clown and talked with my wife about what was going on in my heart. I wished I would have done that sooner because she was going through the same thing. So we began to be more regular in church attendance. I was reminded of the promises God had for me. God forgave me and began to straighten us out. I thought I was okay, that I finally had it all together. Then in 1995 something big happened in Oklahoma City.

I was driving a delivery truck when the bomb exploded. It was a rough part of the highway and being in a pickup truck, the ride was rough anyway so I didn't realize that what I was feeling was the blast, The ground shook. The next thing I knew was that I saw emergency personnel, highway patrols, military and civilian fire trucks just passing me like I was standing still. I was doing every bit of 70-75 miles per hour and they were just flying past me from all directions. As I got close to Oklahoma City, I saw this black cloud of smoke and paper falling out of the sky and I knew something was terribly wrong. The radio stations began to report an explosion but it wasn't until about an hour later that they learned it was a bombing of a government building and there was a nursery there. They said it went off just after people had settled in for work and that innocent people were killed. I began to think about those little babies in the nursery school that was located at the bottom of this building. And it was like God spoke to me very plainly, clearly and bluntly.

I began to cry

In my mind He said, "This is enough. You've played around long enough." He said "There's innocent children in your home and there's an innocent woman relying on you and it's time to quit playing. It's time to get serious in your walk with me." I had to pull that truck over and I began to cry and I cried at that time like I've never cried before. And I couldn't say anything but "Yes Father, I hear you." I dried my tears and headed back to work. The next time I was in church, I went to the altar and I committed myself to serve God the best that I could from that day forward.

The following New Year's Eve we went to church to pray in the New Year. In the year before that, I'd had a thought that God was calling me to preach. I didn't know how to handle or accept that. I didn't even want to be a preacher. I didn't know enough about the Bible and I'd just been back in fellowship with God for a year. I said to God, "I used to be a drunk, a drug addict and a dope dealer and now you're calling me to preach?" It was like the preacher was talking just to me that night. He said, "Young man, if God has called you to preach you need to step through the door of the unknown and God will fill in the blanks." I knew I wasn't worthy to be a preacher. I wasn't even worthy to be saved. But God in His mercy and grace made a way for me through Jesus Christ. I couldn't do anything but surrender. I went down and told that preacher, "I've come to surrender my life to preach the Gospel of Jesus. I love Jesus."

And so I praise God today and thank Him because now I've been preaching for going on six years. Even to this day, I'm still learning about God. The more I learn about Him, the more I realize I don't know enough about Him. But I'm learning through His Holy Spirit. I'm not perfect and never will be until that day Jesus comes and takes me to heaven. In the Bible, in the book of Revelation it says "I will make all things new." Then I will be perfect. Then there will be a perfect church. Until then I just have to keep on hanging on to my hope and my assurance that God has given me.

COPYRIGHT 2002 Intertribal Christian Communications
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