How On Earth Did I Get Here?

The Second Glance That Changed Everything She walked by me with a first piercing glance, and then she stopped and gave me that fatal second look. What she said next changed my life immediately and forever. “She” was my mom, and for the past several years, I had done everything possible to stay away from home and out of her way. You see, she didn’t like me at all. I didn’t know why, at that time. I know; when you see your mom, you give her a hug—but not me. I had learned to run the other way and hide, anything to not be seen. It was never good for me to be in her presence. I knew her schedule and hadn’t been home much since the bitter divorce when I was thirteen. Life in our home was so violent—not just words, but actual hitting and fighting. It was a horrible place for me. So, when she gave me that first glance and walked by, I felt lucky. But that quickly changed. I was moving fast to get out of her view, but not fast enough. With that second look, she glared at me and said, “You look just like your father. I hate him, and so I can’t stand to look at you. You need to leave and never come back!” I was fifteen. My mother meant it, and she wanted it to happen right now. My brain clogged up. I was so crushed. I took what I could carry on my bike and got out of there fast. I was riding hard, not really paying attention to where I was going. I noticed I was heading toward the woods. I grew up playing in the woods or on the water—my only happy times and places. At that moment, I knew at least one thing; I knew where I was going. I would go way, way back in the woods and live up in the “Big Tree,” the tree that became my home. I was alone. Some of that was better, and some was, well…alone. All the thoughts inside of me came to the surface of my mind. It was stuff like nobody loves you, you are a nobody, you’ll never amount to anything, or look at what your friends have! My life was a nightmare. I didn’t want to talk to anybody about all this—I was way too embarrassed. I learned to talk to the stars at night, but my conversations turned into me standing at the top of that tree, hollering every profane word I knew at the top of my lungs. There was plenty of cussing and yelling in the middle of the night, blaming my parents and family for everything. Were my thoughts true? Was I a nobody, worthless, no good? Perhaps, but something else happened after those midnight cries for help as I sat at the top of the tree. There was a quiet voice, a soft voice or thought. It was me saying, “I want to be somebody. I’m not a nobody; I can be a somebody. I’m not going to be a nobody!” I have to tell you, I liked those words, yet I had no reason to believe them. I decided that this has all got to change. But how?? I was a kid living in a tree! Back to my story. When I was twenty-two, Steven, an old high-school friend, stopped by. Steven and I had gone through everything together as kids. When he showed up, he looked just like what, at that time, we called a “Jesus freak.” If you saw Jesus in a magazine back in the seventies, he probably had long, dirty-blond hair; a ridiculously big grin; a tie-dyed T-shirt; bell-bottomed jeans; and flip-flops. To tell you the truth, it made me laugh, and the first thing I said to him was, “What are you, a Jesus freak?” He said, “Yeah, man. I found God.” He invited me to go to a movie on Thursday night. I checked my schedule for parties. It would be an early night, so I figured we could do that. But it was a Christian movie, and I was so mad. Then at the end of the movie, a man named Billy Graham told me that God loved me. ME!! I had never been told that anybody loved me. He told me that I could have peace in my life and be part of the family of God. A Family! I knelt there in the spilled coke and popcorn and asked Jesus into my life. One Last Story—I’m Back in a Tree! It was the last day of our 2017 International Mission Trip to the Dominican Republic. We had done Vacation Bible School with hundreds of kids; we had shared Jesus through street evangelism, and we had worked with and fed the homeless people who lived at the city dump. (Homeless…Whoa, I had impactful flashbacks.) Our last service was on the beach. I was sitting in a sea grape tree, right on the water, reviewing my sermon, but my mind and all my senses were becoming overwhelmed. The memories started flooding my heart, soul, and spirit. I had come full circle. Yes, I was in a tree, but this time it wasn’t for survival; it was simply for joy. I was not lonely; I was loved and appreciated. And this time, as I contemplated my life, I wasn’t in a horrible, empty place, needy, and without hope; I was full — full of life and full of love. I had more than I ever dreamed possible when I was living in “my tree”, long ago. I was getting ready to share the message of God’s love, peace, joy, and hope that we can all have.