Trying to put in to words how and why God has been working in my life would not only take eternity but I would ultimately be lost for words. With that being said, one aspect I love to elaborate on is how far the love of The Father has brought me.
Whether it’s growing up without my dad around or trying to find my way through jails, rehabs, and living a life dedicated to sin, I have learned a few things by standing strong in my faith. One of those things is what the word family means. My whole life I was under the idea that family was blood. A specific bloodline determines your family tree so to speak. It wasn’t until my last trip to jail that I had the revelation that we are all part of the body (or family) in and of Christ. When my fellow brothers and sisters are dealing with sin whether it’s addiction, abuse, being surrounded by drugs and guns, earthly and ungodly relationships, even death, I feel God telling me, “Son, you’ve been through these things. Reach out your hand and bring them home to me.”
I’m so excited about this journey I’ve chosen by giving my life completely to him and not only allowing, but craving his will to be done. Sharing my testimony with others has taught me how one person’s testimony can open a door of communication for someone struggling with a similar challenge. It takes time and being available to be able to know His love, so we can show the rest of His family that same love. That what will change everything. That’s The Father’s heart.