The Gangster Life

So I was 14 when I recommitted my life to God. Still a child by definition, but old in some regards. Growing up, Grandma tried to cheat me out of myself, kind of like the military does with soldiers in boot camp - reprogrammed to follow orders. She wanted to kill my ability to think independently. I understood what she required. Played along until she’d get a rise out of me, and it was on. I couldn’t help fighting back. My spirit was all I had. I hung onto it for dear life. We were dirt poor but somehow survived. Grandma took meager savings family gave her and lent money for interest. Guess you can call it loan sharking.

Grandma and I went out on a job one night. This guy needed a loan. The building had no elevator so we walked up five flights. Already at age eight, I had keen instincts from everything we’d been through. I rehearsed a mental plan in case we ran into trouble. Run. The door opened and a Dominican fresco smiled in Fruit of the Loom underwear. Friendly enough. His girlfriend stood behind him in a thong wearing a sheer baby doll. She came over and smiled. I gotta admit, I hesitated. Never seen customers like this in all my life. Grandma flinched for a sec. He motioned us in, heading into the bedroom for some clothes.

The apartment didn’t smell like it was lived in, no food scents, detergents or fragrant candles filled the air. The place felt empty, without the usual collection of ornaments families gather from shopping sprees or travel souvenirs. When he returned to us, he told his story. Explained why he needed the cash. I relaxed knowing he wouldn’t harm us. It was stressful work but I developed a sixth sense, learned to read cracks on the wall. We made the deal and made money off the transaction that night.

But the kicker was, it took 20 years before I realized my relationship with God felt a lot like that empty apartment. I was empty inside because I fought my heavenly Father, just like I had fought my Grandmother when growing up. Somehow felt God was cheating me out of myself if I surrendered everything. Thought giving my heart would be good enough until God caught me one night, pondering my miserable state. I wasn’t happy. My life played before me like a movie trailer and I understood that’s not how God wanted things between us. He is a living, breathing, personal God. A full time God. He requires first place in our lives for the relationship to work. Not just an occasional Bible reading while it mostly collects dust on a mantel. Or church on Easter. Can’t meet Him on our terms. The day I surrendered, was the day I experienced life.  Jesus is the Truth, the Way and the Life.

 

A Walk Through Scum Valley

It was December 2007 when I got the call. Mom, my sisters and I explored all holistic possibilities to save my sister. She was 34 years old when throat cancer silenced her life, leaving her starved, and a skeletal semblance of who she was. I lost my dog Carter, a Great Dane a month before. I watched helplessly as he slowly hemorrhaged on my floor after making frantic calls to friends to help me take him to an animal hospital. An accidental cut on his foot revealed a clotting disorder. I wrapped his body in the quilt my Aunt and God Mother Ramona gave me. She died a few years earlier from a botched medical procedure. Her warmth and tender touch was all we had as kids, all that connected us to humanity. It’s times like this that raise the question of why bad things happen to good people. Growing up, I’d stomp my feet in a fit crying, “Not fair! It’s not fair.”

Pain comes often, like an unwelcomed visitor. Bringing a variety of excruciating flavors in circumstances that make us question life. Question God. I’ve read many books and articles on the subject that intellectually addresses the question of suffering but never really silenced that why.

Until I read something that bought it home this week. Zechariah 13:9. And I will bring them through the fire, and will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried. Here’s the answer to why we suffer - the mystery of glorification. A work God does in his kids to transform us into His image. A painful purifying process, where life breaks us down through hardships and removes impurities and weaknesses.  God compares us to silver and gold, it’s how precious we are to Him. But like those metals, we’re full of it. Sin is the waste mineral that can only be removed by fire. God, the Almighty Refiner. A Refiner who patiently hovers by the fire watching our sufferings. We’re never alone because He never leaves our side. Won’t risk his treasure alone in the flames. If you ask the Refiner how he knows when the dross is gone, he answers. When I can see my reflection.

We have a promise. He will bring us through the fire. And in the process, God says "Behold, I am making all things new."