Becoming A Missionary

Becoming A Missionary

     When I was two weeks away from turning 16 I planned to commit suicide. I didn't believe in G-d and I honestly hated the thought of Him. You couldn't talk to me then because I knew all about religion. My dad had been a Sunday School teacher. Yet, he would come home and abuse my siblings and I and our mom. He sexually abused me, too. And then when I was ten years old he finally left. During those years I had severe depression. I searched for meaning everywhere I could and came up empty. Nothing seemed worth living for. I began self harming at the age of 11. The same year I watched porn for the first time. I do not remember a time when suicide wasn't a plausible option for me. I thought about it all the time. As I got older, I whored myself out to anyone that paid any attention to me. At the end of it all, I found that no girlfriend, boyfriend, or anything else could make me happy. I was dating a guy at the time I planned to commit suicide. He strung me along for months and kept telling me I was worthless and that he didn't want to be with me. When he broke my heart the last time, I decided to finally go through with ending my life. But something miraculous happened. I was set to go on a weekend ministry retreat called Vida Nueva. I was only going because I was interested in this girl that wanted me to go. I got home from school that day and sat down to write a letter to my family explaining why I was taking my life. As I signed my name, I heard a car door slam outside. I looked out of my window and the people had shown up three hours too early to take me to the retreat. I stashed my letter and decided it could wait until I got back.

     I had no idea then that that was the G-d of the universe intervening to keep me alive. That weekend G-d chased me down and proved to me not only that He existed, but that He loved me more than I could ever know. What blew me away was to hear people preaching that used to be drug addicts. There was even one man that said he was gay before he was a Christian. I had no idea that was possible. I had no idea G-d would still want me after all that I had done. I had no idea that He still loved me and He still wanted my heart. That weekend, I surrendered my life to a G-d that I had hated. Jesus stopped me from killing myself and gave me a reason to keep living. 

     Shortly after that weekend, I felt a call to ministry. I knew that G-d had rescued me and as I read the pages of the Bible for the first time, I knew that He wanted me to tell people what He had done for me. My life wasn't perfect. In a lot of ways, things got harder. I still made plenty of mistakes and for a while there I backslid in a really bad way. Matthew 12:43-45 says, “When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest, but finds none. Then it says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when it comes, it finds the house empty, swept, and put in order. Then it goes and brings with it seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there, and the last state of that person is worse than the first. So also will it be with this evil generation.” That happened for me. And again, the suicidal spirit came back and I wanted to die. It was stronger than it ever was before. But yet again, Jesus stepped in and rescued me. I still make mistakes. But G-d has done so much work in me. He has had grace for me in an unbelievable way. I have my amazing wife that loves me like Jesus loves me, and I have a beautiful baby boy that I get to be a father to. And now I am a college student at Liberty University Online working towards my Bachelor's in the science of religion with a minor in counseling. I have a 4.0 and I made the dean's list. I want to keep going with this to make a better life for my family and be able to more effectively help broken people find healing.

     In the last year, G-d has done incredible things with us. We have experienced so much healing and honestly, revival. It's like we've been awakened from a very long sleep. That really came about through the internship we did at the International House Of Prayer: Atlanta. I spent many hours in the presence of the Lord in prayer and I took classes like Attributes of G-d, The Greatest Commandment, and The Life of David. It was through all of this time of healing and restoration that we sought the Lord about ministry. It is here that He showed us our hearts and what He has put in them for Himself to use in this world. We know without a shadow of a doubt that we are called to shepherd emotionally and spiritually wounded people into the healing of Christ unto a place of true freedom. 

     We want to help people that are where I was and have been before in my life. Emory University has stated that on average, 94 people commit suicide every day. The highest risk age being 18-25 years old. We want to spread the Gospel in such a way so that people know that they are loved and they don't have to die like this. Gwinnett County alone has over 500 homeless men and women and children. The number is increasing. We want to help these people. We want to share Jesus with them and let them know that they are loved. We want to work with shelters and help feed these people and do whatever we can. We are called to not just bring people to Christ, but to serve the poor and dirty. (James 1:27) We also want to disciple youth and give them accountability so they don't have to feel the way I did as a teenager and they don't have to make the same mistakes as me. In order to do all of this, we are going on staff at the International House Of Prayer. 

     Doing what we are doing is going to take all of our time. We will be considered Intercessory Missionaries. We believe as important as it is to go out and serve and evangelize, that it is all fueled and sparked by prayer. The biggest part of our job is intercession. Every missionary at the House of Prayer raises their own partner team. We are in the process of raising ours. We have had many people partner with us that love us and believe in what we feel called to do. Partnership involves consistent financial giving as well as prayer. It's all about sharing our heart. The chapter that G-d has been highlighting to us and speaking over us in this is Isaiah 61. We have had many of our partners suggest that we talk to friends of theirs that have a heart for the broken in this way. There are goers and senders. We believe that we are goers to the city of Atlanta and to the nations. Maybe you are a sender. If you're reading this, please share it. If you're reading this and you want to help us do what we feel so strongly called to do; to disciple youth, go to the homeless and serve, go to prisons and talk to them about Jesus, walk the streets of Atlanta and bring light to dying souls, then please contact me or Megan and we would love to talk to you more about partnership. Even if it's just prayer partnership. It's all very important. Please help us fight the good fight. Share this post with your friends and tell them to contact us if they want to know more. Thank you for reading and thank you for helping us. G-d has already raised a partner team for us, now we just have to find them. 

We are one. We are the body. We are the bride. Let's unite and fight together.

Living Of Love In Tolerance

Living Of Love In Tolerance

    I think that loving like Jesus is becoming increasingly difficult in the world we are now living in. In a culture where homosexuality is celebrated, transgender bathrooms are making way, and being yourself is encouraged. I think at first, it excites the hearts of millennials that serve Jesus because quite honestly, we believe in loving people no matter what they prefer in the bedroom or what other sin they live in.  

     As someone who's sins are many, it seems great that these topics are not as taboo anymore. Along with many other topics that I can't think of specifically. It seems great that culture is screaming "LOVE" at the top of their lungs. But are they really? Don't get me wrong. It's exciting that I can be covered in tattoos, facial piercings, and have silver hair and I'm not necessarily the weird one anymore. It's exciting that there is this movement against discrimination of any kind. And to a millennial believer, it seems biblical. James 2:8,9 says, "If you really keep the royal law found in scripture 'love your neighbor as yourself', you are doing right. But if you show partiality, you sin and are convicted by the law as law breakers."

    We are taught to love by Christ and like Christ. But are we really loving people if we do it the way our culture is trying to do? With tolerance? I once heard that the most loving thing you can do is tell someone about Hell. No, I do not think we need to go around and tell people that they're going to burn in Hell because of their sin. But what if we love people by telling them that G-d has something so much greater for them? What if we pour an abundance of Agape love on someone by telling them that the only reason G-d says anything about the way they live their life is because He knows what is going to hurt them in the end? What if we understood that Hell isn't a punishment that G-d wishes to bestow on people but Hell is a reality that Jesus died on the cross and rose again to spare us from. What if we didn't turn our backs on people because of the sin they struggle with? And that goes for the church even more! I have seen so many believers that are going through some really tough times and have fallen deeply in to sin and they wake up with no brothers or sisters in Christ to be found. I have experienced that myself. 

"My brothers and sisters, if one of you should wander from the truth and someone should bring that person back, remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of their way will save them from death and cover over a multitude of sins." -James 5:19,20

    Can we say that one a little louder please? Love isn't about acceptance and tolerance. Love is about displaying Christ. He walked this Earth and preached Truth while still hanging around the "sinners" and dining with the prostitutes. 

     So, what do I take away? I have to ask Jesus what it means to love people the way He told me to. I have to constantly commune with Him to find out how I am supposed to handle the way our culture is going. Yes, let's live of love. But I must be careful to not become hateful and legalistic towards people and their sin. At the same time, I must be careful to not get swept away in what this culture is calling love, acceptance, and tolerance. I also have to understand that G-d is not waiting for the dirty to get clean and come to Him but He is waiting for the dirty to come to Him so He can clean them. He loves people exactly where they are and begs them to choose Him and love Him. So I must love people where they are and beg them to choose Jesus to find living water and abundant life. 

Lament

     It's been a month. I held Papa's hand and watched him take his last breath one month ago.

He's dead.

It feels like it's been so much longer than a month. The ache has made time slow down and sometimes even stop. But time doesn't slow down or stop, though, does it? No, time keeps moving forward. Life keeps going and I must go on. 


No one told me that intense grief feels so physical. My body is actually in pain. If the panic attack is bad enough, I writhe. My only comfort is in the Lord. I know that He is weeping with me. I know He is watching me in love, trying to bring my soul comfort. But nothing stops the pain. This isn't a sinful sorrow; something caused by some horrible sin I've fallen into. This is an agony that demands to be felt. 

It's also in this time you are faced with the reality of what you believe. It's nice to say that there is a place for us after death that the G-d of the universe has prepared and it's beautiful and there's no pain or suffering or tears. It's nice to believe the bible. But right now, I'm faced with eternity as a reality. Either everything I have believed is true or it's not and I will never see papa again. I honestly believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ now more than ever. I also believe in G-d's mercy now more than ever. There's a line in a My Epic song that papa loved that says, "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones." I believe that.

But believing that doesn't stop the pain. It gives me hope to continue when all I want to do is throw in the towel. These are the reasons why I got out of bed this morning. 

All morning I've been thinking of the insanity of grief. When papa was dying, when I was watching him struggle more and more to breathe, when he stopped eating and drinking; I felt peace. I knew that what was coming was so much better for him. I knew that deliverance was near. The moment he died, the insanity set in. In his last few days and even hours, papa saw Paradise. He saw loved ones that had gone on before. He talked with angels. The day before he died I saw him look at someone that wasn't there and say, "I can't go yet, they won't let me go." In the moment I said, "No, papa. Go. It's okay. Go with them." And now, if I could, I would go back and look at the Heavenly Being he was seeing and say, "Take me, too! Please!" I know papa needed for me to be okay. He needed me to tell him it was okay for him to go. He needed that from all of us. But I didn't mean it. I so very much did not mean it. I want my papa back. 

I think the thing that brings me the most agony is thinking of how he looked in his casket. Thinking about the arms that held me, the beautiful blue eyes that pierced my soul, the feet I rubbed, all the details and wrinkles on his face, the body that I bathed for the past six months; is now in the ground. I'm not mourning for him. I'm mourning for me. I'm not angry because he went too soon, although it feels that way. He lived almost 83 wonderful years! He had a beautiful life. It was so full. I'm mourning because I am a teeny human that does not have eternal sight. 

There are constant reminders everywhere. I still live in his house. When I have been gone all day I come home and still expect him to be there in his chair asking me to sit down and watch the news with him. Oh G-d, the news. He recorded every newscast he could find and he would watch all of them every night. I haven't seen the news in a month. Walking past his room is difficult even though the door is shut. I can't go in there. Trash day is now hard to remember because I don't have him there to tell me a hundred times on Sunday night to make sure I "get the garbage up" only to wake up Monday morning to "did you get the garbage out?". He had no appetite so the last few months he really only drank Ensure to keep him healthy. Just a week or so before he died I got ten huge cases of it. He hardly made a dent. Every time I walk past the ensure my heart breaks. The fireplace where he had a fire going even in the summer. We used to argue with him because it was so hot in the house and he wouldn't turn it off. Now that he's gone we've kept the fire going. His last load of laundry is sitting in the laundry room. "Hee Haw" and gospel shows are still being recorded on the tv. It's so painful to see all of his things exactly where he left them, but I can't move it yet. It's only been a month. It's still papa's house. 

There's one part of me that feels like, "this has been the longest month of my life and it's agonizing." but another part says, "okay. I made it through a month. I can keep going."

This has been the loneliest month of my life.

I am angry.
I am hurt.
I am in pain.
I am mourning.
I am grieving.

This is my lament.

It's been one month since my hero died.