Hello everyone,
I have been comforted by what I have seen so far in a few of the posts and replys on this site. So I will go out on a limb here and tell y'all my story. My hope is it gives hope and faith to someone else. I will try to make it as short as I can...
When I was around four years old I was told by my sweet, loving, affectionate mommy that daddy had recieved custody of my brother and I. Well as you can amagine that day was pretty traumatic as we all cried goodbye. My brother and I went to live with our daddy thousands of miles from our mother. Our dad was very abusive, and my brother and I lived in constant terror for the next five years or so. Anyway we did finially get to go back to our mothers when I went crazy in a airport after a summer visit with her. They would not allow us on the plane with me in such a frantic episode. Long story short our father had a change of heart and allowed us to stay with our mother.
My poverty stricken mother sold all she had and bought a old van and we made a 19 hour tip to Texas in about 7 days. She was married to a abusive drunk and drug addict. He had robbed a liquor store before we left and the whole trip was one long violent, drunken nightmare. My mother always protected us from our step dad to her own harm. She worked hard as a waitress as he drank and worked hard at not working. Anyway mommy never let us do without food and shelter and most of all Love.
In 2002 my wife divorced me and my mother started to become breathless so I moved in with her to help the best I could. Even though my step dad stopped the physical abuse toward my mother he never stopped the verbal abuse. Even with her breathing difficulties he would not stop smoking around her. My mother worked a full time job up to the last month of her life in this world. Two weeks before she passed away she was still working parttime. I walked in on my step dad screaming at my mother who was on her hands and knees crying, he was saying I wish you would die you XXXXX. He ran from the room when he seen me ofcourse, I asked momma what was wrong, she told me she had to crawl on her hands and knees just to get the groceries in the house because my step dad was to lazy to get out of bed to help her.
Two weeks later momma was with Jesus
The doctor told us she had two years to live, she passed away in her sleep a week later. I was at a friends house and the preacher came and told me. I was flooded with grief and joy at the same time. Grief because of my loss, joy because of her gain, I knew she was with Jesus.
Long story short my grief got the best of me and I turned to alcohol. I ended up being where I should not have been and with whom I should not have been and I found myself facing prison 2 weeks after losing momma. God gave me the most beautifull 5 months walking with him before I did 2 years in TDC. When I was in the county jail curled up in a ball he came to me and taught me how to embrace my sorrow. He showed me that the more I pushed against the sorrow the more it hurt, but when I embraced it as from him, with perfect trust in His loving kindness the pain became bearable. Then he showed me how I made my mother my home, and told me if I would make Him my home as I did her, my heart would once again know peace, security, and comfort, that would never leave me. It's true, when we make Jesus our home we will never be homeless, we will never be without family, because he will never leave us, and besides that we have each other don't we.:boy_hug:
Well I did just that, and he gave me a miracle of 5 months of freedom before I did my two years in TDC. What I seen and heard from our Lord in that 5 months of waltzing on the clouds with Jesus would take to long to post this time. Then I would have to tell you of His awesome power that carried me through prison and I think I have rambled enough for now.
One last thing, whatever we go through in this life, with a broken and contrite heart look up in child like faith and you will see a glimpse of God that will make everything seem like nothing in the light of His amazing Love.
Your brother,
brokenman
I have been comforted by what I have seen so far in a few of the posts and replys on this site. So I will go out on a limb here and tell y'all my story. My hope is it gives hope and faith to someone else. I will try to make it as short as I can...
When I was around four years old I was told by my sweet, loving, affectionate mommy that daddy had recieved custody of my brother and I. Well as you can amagine that day was pretty traumatic as we all cried goodbye. My brother and I went to live with our daddy thousands of miles from our mother. Our dad was very abusive, and my brother and I lived in constant terror for the next five years or so. Anyway we did finially get to go back to our mothers when I went crazy in a airport after a summer visit with her. They would not allow us on the plane with me in such a frantic episode. Long story short our father had a change of heart and allowed us to stay with our mother.
My poverty stricken mother sold all she had and bought a old van and we made a 19 hour tip to Texas in about 7 days. She was married to a abusive drunk and drug addict. He had robbed a liquor store before we left and the whole trip was one long violent, drunken nightmare. My mother always protected us from our step dad to her own harm. She worked hard as a waitress as he drank and worked hard at not working. Anyway mommy never let us do without food and shelter and most of all Love.
In 2002 my wife divorced me and my mother started to become breathless so I moved in with her to help the best I could. Even though my step dad stopped the physical abuse toward my mother he never stopped the verbal abuse. Even with her breathing difficulties he would not stop smoking around her. My mother worked a full time job up to the last month of her life in this world. Two weeks before she passed away she was still working parttime. I walked in on my step dad screaming at my mother who was on her hands and knees crying, he was saying I wish you would die you XXXXX. He ran from the room when he seen me ofcourse, I asked momma what was wrong, she told me she had to crawl on her hands and knees just to get the groceries in the house because my step dad was to lazy to get out of bed to help her.
Two weeks later momma was with Jesus
The doctor told us she had two years to live, she passed away in her sleep a week later. I was at a friends house and the preacher came and told me. I was flooded with grief and joy at the same time. Grief because of my loss, joy because of her gain, I knew she was with Jesus.
Long story short my grief got the best of me and I turned to alcohol. I ended up being where I should not have been and with whom I should not have been and I found myself facing prison 2 weeks after losing momma. God gave me the most beautifull 5 months walking with him before I did 2 years in TDC. When I was in the county jail curled up in a ball he came to me and taught me how to embrace my sorrow. He showed me that the more I pushed against the sorrow the more it hurt, but when I embraced it as from him, with perfect trust in His loving kindness the pain became bearable. Then he showed me how I made my mother my home, and told me if I would make Him my home as I did her, my heart would once again know peace, security, and comfort, that would never leave me. It's true, when we make Jesus our home we will never be homeless, we will never be without family, because he will never leave us, and besides that we have each other don't we.:boy_hug:
Well I did just that, and he gave me a miracle of 5 months of freedom before I did my two years in TDC. What I seen and heard from our Lord in that 5 months of waltzing on the clouds with Jesus would take to long to post this time. Then I would have to tell you of His awesome power that carried me through prison and I think I have rambled enough for now.
One last thing, whatever we go through in this life, with a broken and contrite heart look up in child like faith and you will see a glimpse of God that will make everything seem like nothing in the light of His amazing Love.
Your brother,
brokenman
