Tabernacle of Praise

When you look at me and my family you see an Apostolic God Fearing family. We go to church every time the doors are open. I sing in the praise group and choir. We are active in the youth group and every fund-raiser the church has you can find our finger prints. You would think that what you see is what has always been, but that is not true. Nine years ago we were people you would not have even recognized.

My dad was out of town a lot on business and when he was in town we were partying. Drugs and alcohol were a normal part of life. I remember wakening up to the smell of last night’s fire and my parents still in bed with a hangover from either the drugs, beer, or both. My sisters and I would dress ourselves and head straight outside to see if we could get the fire started again and mainly take care of ourselves until later in the afternoon when mom and dad where able to get up.

Once we had this beautiful light colored wooden table with a couple of chairs and a bench that us girls would set on to eats our meals. I loved that table, it was one of the nicest things we had. One day I came home busting thru the door ready to throw my things on the table and to my surprise there was a huge, ugly, old table in its place. My parents needed some money for their next fix so they sold the table. I was so disappointed and let down.

It might have been a little thing to other people but to a girl who had shoes from Wal-Mart and clothes from the local Good Will it was devastating. I still remember the fights too. Yelling and cursing ringing thru the air with the sound of objects flying and doors slamming. Us kids would run outside to out run the noise. One thing we never did was talk back or disobey our dad, when he was around. We had seen too many people get on the wrong side of his fist and it was learned at an early age to keep in line around dad. A fear was always present around him especially when he had been drinking. He was a mean drunk.

My mom was another story. As long as she had a beer on hand she was all right. It was when she was thirsting for a drink that it got ugly. That was our life. It was normal, all we had ever known. Kids we hung out with had parents like ours so we never longed for something different. It was life. But there was one light at the end of the tunnel. My grandmother. She went to this Pentecostal church and when my parents wanted to get rid of us we would go with her in the mornings to Sunday school.

We would bring home arts and crafts for mom to hang on the fridge. My mom started to show interest in church. So on Sunday mornings we would get cleaned up and go to church with my mom and that night stay home with dad to watch a movie. Our dad was always furious with my mom’s decision to attend church. He would curse and throw things as my mom made her way out the door. If our mom bought us dresses for church he would take us out and buy us more pants. When our mom decided not to cut our hair anymore he took us to the local beauty salon and cut our hair off up to our ears.

It became a battle field. Either we stayed home with our dad and disappointed our mom or we went with our mom and faced the anger of our dad. But our mom was determined to change the life she was living. She longed for a better life than the one we were living. She even tried to quit drinking. Our turning point took place at the local hospital. In my mom’s attempt to lay down the bottle her body started fighting against her and she had to be admitted to the local hospital because her body had become so dependent on the alcohol.

The doctor said it was one of the worst cases of alcoholism he had ever seen. We did not know if our mother would make it out dead or alive. By the grace of God she was let out and came back home. But home as we knew it was about to change drastically.

It was decided that we needed help. More than what we, us kids and our dad, could offer, so we moved in with our Pentecostal Grandmother. My mother needed help around the clock, seven days a week, and that was the only way she could get it. I remember late at night when my mom would come into our room to tuck us in and I would be scared to death because of her uncontrollable shaking.

There where nights we would have to physically restrain my mom to stay home. We would hide any and all car keys. Doctor visits became a normal routine. Even in the mist of all this darkness God was working miracles in our family. We all started to go to church together, except our dad but he knew this was what our mom needed to get thru this battle so he no longer made a fuss.

We depended on Jesus to get us thru this trial. When my mom would go thru very bad withdraws, instead of cowering in fear, we would surround her and pray. We started to become a family in a way I never dreamed was possible. We became a family in God.

The time between the withdraws became longer and longer apart and the faith we came to know in God became stronger. One day, about a year or two after my mom came to know God another miracle occurred.

A miracle that I never even dreamed would happen, my dad walked thru the doors of our church. Sure, we had all prayed for this moment to come but never in my wildest imagination would I have thought that he would really make his way to God. This was a man who never cried, even at a friend or relative’s funeral, because his heart and soul were so hard, I later learned that he had been driving around town with the music blaring and some dip in his mouth when he just started to bawl over his misery.

He made his way to our pastor, at the time, Rev. O.E. Davis’ house and stumbled to the door. That day marked the beginning of a journey I would be on for a life time. Our struggles and trials did not stop there but the grace and mercy of God did start there.

We still had a long way to go, mountains we had to climb, and valleys we still had to cross but the peace and power we found in Jesus has and always will keep us strong. I pray to God everyday that I will not forget what God has brought us from and I pray that God will use our testimony to help and minister to other people.

When you find yourself surrounded by darkness there will be a light in the mist of it. When you’re struggling to get out of your trial all you have to do is call on Jesus and he will open your door. No matter what your problem or circumstance may be God will make a way.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.— Psalms 23:4

Testimonies like mine come with a price that’s NOT pretty!!

• Sleepless nights of torment!
• Clinging to the sheets at night because of withdraws!
• It comes with aids and other deceases!
• It comes with killing of unborn children “Abortion”!
• Rotten teeth because of the drugs!
• Lonely nights in a jail cell!
• Comes with your friends being killed!
• OR becoming paraplegic because of a night out on the town!

The best testimony you can have is to be able to say….

I’ve NEVER done that!!!!