8
Trying to live right is what I tried to do.
My hair was fully white by the end of April, a few months earlier. Back then, I couldn't find one red strand on my head. It was almost as though God had washed my sin clean by getting rid of my blood-red hair and making me white as snow.
When Christmas came around, I spent my time in a motel alone. I formally gave my vow of restraint, celibacy, abstinence, and control. I was already doing that, but by then, outside of reading my Bible and doing jobs under the table, I found that old urge coming back up to go look for my supplier.
I smelled alcohol and people smoking. All at once, all the overstimulation and the inundation of those urges came roaring back in a full surge.
In my motel, I sat on my knees, rocking back and forth as I called out to God to help me.
I needed Him to help me not go back into that life, because God has saved me more times than one.
I eventually moved into transitional housing, planning to leave to Tennessee by mid-January.
I knew I had to leave New York. I had been visiting Jawar. The first two weeks after I got out, he refused to see me, just like he said. But by the last two weeks, he gave in.
"You look good, man! Freedom looks good on you," he smiled.
I jumped up to hug him, but the guard barked, "No touching!" staring at us like a hawk.
"Hang on, brother," I said with a bright smile. "You're coming right after me. In Jesus' mighty name."
The next day, Jawar called me.
"If I knew you missed me that much, I would’ve stayed a while longer," I teased.
We bantered for a bit, him asking about life and me telling him about the construction and restaurant gigs I was hustling. God was providing, even if it was just enough to get by.
But I couldn't stop praising and talking to him about God, pouring into his spirit as well.
"Speaking of God’s goodness," Jawar stated, "My mother needs help. She’s elderly, and the lady who was helping her just passed away. Mama’s all alone. Your prayers work, and you're God’s new favorite, so I want you to pray for her."
"Is she still in Brackenridge?" I asked.
"Yes," Jawar replied.
I pondered on that for a while.
I told Jawar that I would put a special prayer in for his mom.
"Honestly, you want to think about moving to a small town where you can start over and where things are cheaper," Jawar told me.
"Don't stay in New York; this place is going downhill.
All your past is tied here. Start someplace small where you can be surrounded by a community like you were here.
You can build up your spirit, keep it clean and away from temptation, and then you work your way up. "
"I wouldn't know the first place to go," I expressed to him.
"God will lead you. You're going to be all right," Jawar replied.
And that’s how I ended up making the decision to move to Brackenridge, Tennessee.
Not long after that, following Jawar’s advice, I quickly found a church home; a pretty big church called Lightbearer Ministries, where everyone deserves a second chance. That was their motto.
The main reason I even decided to do this was because the only thing I could do for my brother in prison was to be close to his mother.
I still remember the call like it was yesterday.
"Guess where I am, big brother?" I asked excitedly.
"Where you at?" Jawar replied.
"Take a guess."
"At church?" Jawar asked. I could already see his face grinning from ear to ear without even looking at him.
"Not too far off," I replied.
I started talking about all the different shops and how the place looked. Hearing the hearty belly laughter of Jawar was enough to put a bigger smile on my face.
"Your narrow behind is in Brackenridge!" Jawar shouted.
"Yes, sir. This is my home now," I stated.
"Are you serious?" Jawar questioned in awe.
"Well, the way you were talking about it made it feel like home to me. I figured if there was ever a place to start, it would be where my big brother came from," I replied.
Jawar was ecstatic and told me it was a wonderful, right place for me. I had fun telling him all about the service and the people here.
Then I told Jawar I wanted to visit his mom.
"I'm so glad you're there, man. And truthfully, the only person I know that I can trust my mama with is family. And that's you. Can you check in on her and tell her I sent you?" Jawar expressed.
"I'm already on it, brother. That's partially the reason I moved here. You're my brother now, so… she's my mom. I'll take care of her, I promise you, until you get out and you can take over," I promised.
Jawar laughed up a storm.
I planned accordingly.
My first in-person visit with Yvonne Gaspinson was on Valentine’s Day.
I brought flowers to her doorstep and told her who I was.
That’s when we started our daily morning and night texts, plus at least one phone call weekly.
We made it a routine for me to visit Yvonne on Sunday after church, or we would both get into a video call with Jawar.
I also helped the old lady with her medical transport and household support, taking over the heavy lifting and making sure she got to her appointments on time.
Later in March, I got baptized again. I just felt like, being free and out of prison, I wanted to do it the right way. Maybe that was one of my little selfish ticks. The Sunday right after that, I was officially a member of Lightbearer Ministries.
I was loving my new life and loving Brackenridge, Tennessee.
People only knew me as King. This church was just so filled with the Spirit; I hadn’t known church like this.
It was very different from the chapel in the prison. More lively, more spirited. People were happy to be there, but nobody was happier than me because I could feel God in the place.
God was making moves in my life exponentially this time, in the right direction. It was the road that was always meant to be traveled. I believe that everything happened for a reason.
Sometimes faith… well, it was hard to hold on to.
Sometimes you’ll be swimming along with the current and then just get dragged under, seemingly out of nowhere, all while still expected to keep that same level of faith that God told you that you need to have.