My Dearest LORD,

I am not sure where to begin, or what to even say at the time of this letter. To be perfectly honest, I do not know what to even call You. You have so many names that carry so many different meanings, depending on what situation I am faced with at the moment. When I am broke and clinging on to my last dime, I call You Jehovah-Jireh, the LORD my provider. When I am sick and clinging on to my last breath, I call You Jehovah-Ropheka, the LORD my healer. When utter HELL and chaos is front and center in my life, I call You Jehovah-Shalom, the LORD my peace. When I begin to curse and come out of character, I call You Jehovah-Tsidkenu, the LORD my righteousness. When I am in a sin-ridden existence and have nothing but darkness to befriend me, I call You Jehovah-Mekaddishkem, the LORD my sanctifier.

But, for the purposes of this letter, I will call You LORD and drop all of the formalities.

I can remember when we first met. I will not do myself the injustice of asking if You can remember that night, because it is plainly obvious that You set up the meeting. It was December 14^th, 2004. It was way past midnight, although I am not sure of the hour. Before we get into the circumstances behind our meeting, I can vaguely remember numerous occasions where You tried to introduce Yourself to me. Please forgive me for all the doors that I closed in Your face and the times where I stood You up. I think the first real encounter I ever had with You was in the fourth grade. I was a bad, little nappy-headed joker, was I not? I bet You had many days where You slapped Your knees wondering what in the heck was wrong with me! Anyway, my teacher called me “a gangster in the making” in front of the entire class because I wore my shoes untied and with the tongue sticking out. I think I saw Run-DMC dress like that and I decided to mimic the image. One of my classmates innocently told me that my shoes were untied, and he just let me HAVE IT in front of my peers.

What did he know? I was just a poor kid holed up in a homeless shelter with no aspirations of anything better. If memory serves me right, he cornered me during my lunch period and made a physical threat against me. I remember him saying something along the lines of he would “beat my little black [behind],” with along with a couple of derogatory racial epithets thrown in for good measure. Why a BLACK teacher would ever do something like that still boggles my mind. Not soon after that, without me having told a soul about the incidents, the teacher was gone. Things are a blur after that, but I know You were somewhere lurking in that equation. That memory haunted me for years, and I love You for wiping that memory far from my remembrance.

I love You for this reason also…

I never quite thanked You for giving me the courage to handle things the way I did when Grandma died. I was a little mad at her for going to Atlanta and not telling me about it. She took me everywhere she went, especially the kingdom hall. I know I was funny looking little guy, with my little leather briefcase and all the Watchtowers half tore up and stuffed inside. As long as I got to ride with Grandma, I did not much care at all where we went. We would stop at the IGA grocery store and get two RC colas and head to the kingdom hall, on every Saturday without fail. So, when she took off and did not take me, I was a little upset. I can remember it being mid-afternoon, and the phone ringing back to back. I looked at the caller ID, and all it said was “Fulton County.” I was keeping an eye on my younger siblings, and I wanted to be the “man of the house” and answer the phone. The voice on the other end asked to speak to the man or woman of the house, and since it was me (or so I thought), I made the bold announcement that I was him. The conversation that was to follow was definitely made for someone above my caliber.

The woman on the other end asked me what relation I was to Ruth-Ann Ewell, and I told her that I was her grandson. I was then told the gut-wrenching news that she was in the morgue and she passed away of a massive heart attack the previous day. All I could do is drop the phone momentarily and scream as loud as my 15-year old throat would allow. My mother was at a location where a phone was not readily available, so I had to call some members of our congregation to go to where she was and deliver the news. I was also given the responsibility of calling every family member and telling them that Grandma had died. What 15-year old who could barely wipe their nose could handle such a task without You? I love You for not allowing me to crash and burn during that time. I thank You for giving me what I needed to handle the turbulence that came with it.

You know the reasons why I love You…but why is that You love me so much?

LORD, I have done some downright trifling things in my day. How is it that You were able to look past my ugliness when I beat up the freckle-faced kid with the gold rings I had on my fingers? When his uncle jumped through the screen door and tried to attack me, You allowed me to escape sure death. I was only a kid then, but I am sure it brought You great displeasure. I know I must have really given You some heartburn the nights that I tiptoed out of the house to go have sex with my girlfriend. You put up with it for many nights, me setting my alarm clock for 2:30 am to creep out of my back door to go do things I had absolutely no business doing. I guess You needed to give me a good lesson, because on this night, You woke her father up while we were in the midst of our latest charade. It was pretty dark in the living room, and thankfully my clothes were stuffed in a corner, out of sight. I had to hide in the furnace closet, which was in front of the dining room table. Her father decided to sit down to a bowl of cereal and have a nice chat with his daughter. Little did he know that in the closet right in front of him was a little boy, paralyzed with fear and barely breathing so as to not make a sound. He went upstairs, and I put my clothes on as fast as I could and made a beeline to my house. I was never quite the same after that night, and I was certainly too afraid to make anymore late night house calls. Thank You for the spanking and the fear that came with it. That was a crucial turning point in my life, and You orchestrated the entire thing.

I can also recall a point when I was teenager where You literally had to drag me out of my own bedroom. In my Young, finite mind it was a safe haven for me. I had a Super Nintendo hooked up to small color TV that I could get lost in. I would steal some food stamps and take them to corner stone, and pass them off to one of the local drunkards to get me and him a fix. I would sneak whatever my beverage of choice was into my room and line them up across my closet shelf like most kids would line up their trophies. If I had a basketball net nearby, I would have cut it and draped it across a 40 oz bottle of Olde English 800 as a gag. I found great pleasure in being plastered while killing some hopeless video game character, all the while not knowing I was on the run. I was running from the realities of watching too many VCRs leave my house and not be replaced. I was running from the mysteries of not knowing where I came from or where I was going. I was running from a life of hand-me-down clothes and barely getting by. Everything I was supposed to love, I hated them with great passion. Everything that was supposed to disgust me, I chased and embraced them. There was a sick liberty to my hatred. I figured if I could hate a thing enough, eventually it would feel what I feel and go away. As I found out much later, I could never out-evil Your goodness.

Now…back to the circumstances of our FINALLY meeting.

Thinking about how much You love me and how many ditches You pulled me out of made me almost lose track of time. It was December 14^th, 2004. I was caught up in my latest shame after having been found in an adulterous affair. At the time of my exposure, I believe I was more angry at the fact that I got caught. Never mind the fact that I was totally wrong and totally at fault. Never mind the fact that I had brought shame to my marriage and to my children. To top it all off, my arrogance and total inability to feel any sort of remorse caused me to do something really stupid. In a contemptuous act of anger, I punched out my entertainment center. To this day, I do not know what prompted me to do something so insensate and just plain DUMB! As a reward, I spent the night in the hospital to receive stitches for my cuts and a cast for the bones that were broken in my hand.

I had no idea that a greater healing was up ahead…

When I returned home that night, I suddenly became torn up. The pain medication had worn off, but that was not the reason. The anger had subsided, and I was not sure why. I just decided to have a seat in my favorite recliner. It was pitch black in the room, which brought a certain sereneness and calm that I was not quite used to. Suddenly, a tear drop fell. I had a high tolerance for the agony that I was in, so I was not crying about that. I started to remember…

Remember what?

I remembered the pungent odor of the urine-stained apartment building that I once lived in. I remembered the crackling sounds of cans being squeezed as neighbors smoked crack in a crowded bathroom. I remembered the humiliation of “borrowing” sacks of potatoes so my family could eat something that day. I remembered the sound of shotgun pellets bouncing off the sliding board after the dope deal suddenly went bad. I remembered the laughter of classmates as I went to school in pants with a broken zipper and no underwear to cover me up. I remembered the embarrassment of breaking comb after comb trying to look presentable for picture day at school. I remembered the frustration of burning up loaves of bread trying to melt government cheese sandwiches that could not be cut thin enough. I remembered trying to sweeten pots of rice with mayonnaise because there was no sugar readily available.

Another tear drop fell…

I had blocked out the pain in my hand pretty good, so I was not crying about that. My two toddlers were fast asleep just feet from me, and I knew I was about to lose them forever. Just hours before, my lawn was so littered with white paper confessing my affair that I thought it snowed outside. In my laundry room was a pile of my best clothing, bleached and rendered useless after the discovery. In my driveway was a van with a bashed out side window, and I have my suspicions who committed that act. Above all else, in plain view was a 360 degree panorama of the destruction that I caused with my selfishness. Then another tear drop fell. And another one. And another one. All of a sudden, the floodgates were opened. Not only were eyes filled, but so was my belly.

“He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water” (John 7:38, NKJV).

Right in that comfortable recliner of mine came a Comforter that I knew not of. As I bawled in a knot, I began to utter words that my human ears had never heard before. Every affirmation that went up was reciprocated with a touch from Your wonderful hands. As I paced the floor to and fro, You met me with a waltz and slowed down my steps. As my tears began to dry, I started to remember..

Remember what?

I remembered the great miracles You had performed in my life. The scar below my neck is a sign that You saved my life after chicken pox infected my insides when I was two years old. I remembered You bringing a mystery woman to buy me $800 worth of clothes during the summer that I worked and all of my savings were taken. I remembered the full year that my oldest son lived with me and we lived blissfully and without incident. I remembered holding my second son and loving him like nothing else I had ever imagined when he was born. I remembered the love and sheer paradise that I felt after holding my daughter for the first time. I remembered my high school graduation and being triumphant, even though I attended seventeen different schools in my life. I remembered a chance meeting with a legendary writer when I was in the second grade, even though I did not know that it would shape my greatest passion at the time. I remembered the three times I nearly drowned in swimming pools and You saving me every single time. I remembered the students at the local university volunteering to pay for my braces when my teeth were the mockery of everyone in sight. In short…

I began to remember Your love for me!

LORD, this is a little note to tell You that I love You with my soul, my might and ALL of my strength. I thank You for not walking out on me in my adulterous state. I thank You for not walking out on me in my drunken state. I thank You for not walking out on me in my disobedient and absolutely rebellious state. I thank You for not walking out on me after every lie I told and every piece of rotten fruit that I produced. I thank You for loving me when I was too putrid and too poor to be loved. I thank You for noticing me when I was too dirty and unkempt to be noticed at all. I thank You for loving me through the confusion, the pain, the struggles and everything that helped to shape and mold me into the man that I am today. I will make more mistakes in the days to come. I will fall again and again. I will make poor judgments and even poorer decisions on occasion. But, I am at rest knowing that You will be here through it all. You are my everything, and I will never let You go.

The one that You loved first,

Damainion

My Dearest LORD,

I am not sure where to begin, or what to even say at the time of this letter. To be perfectly honest, I do not know what to even call You. You have so many names that carry so many different meanings, depending on what situation I am faced with at the moment. When I am broke and clinging on to my last dime, I call You Jehovah-Jireh, the LORD my provider. When I am sick and clinging on to my last breath, I call You Jehovah-Ropheka, the LORD my healer. When utter HELL and chaos is front and center in my life, I call You Jehovah-Shalom, the LORD my peace. When I begin to curse and come out of character, I call You Jehovah-Tsidkenu, the LORD my righteousness. When I am in a sin-ridden existence and have nothing but darkness to befriend me, I call You Jehovah-Mekaddishkem, the LORD my sanctifier.

But, for the purposes of this letter, I will call You LORD and drop all of the formalities.

I can remember when we first met. I will not do myself the injustice of asking if You can remember that night, because it is plainly obvious that You set up the meeting. It was December 14^th, 2004. It was way past midnight, although I am not sure of the hour. Before we get into the circumstances behind our meeting, I can vaguely remember numerous occasions where You tried to introduce Yourself to me. Please forgive me for all the doors that I closed in Your face and the times where I stood You up. I think the first real encounter I ever had with You was in the fourth grade. I was a bad, little nappy-headed joker, was I not? I bet You had many days where You slapped Your knees wondering what in the heck was wrong with me! Anyway, my teacher called me “a gangster in the making” in front of the entire class because I wore my shoes untied and with the tongue sticking out. I think I saw Run-DMC dress like that and I decided to mimic the image. One of my classmates innocently told me that my shoes were untied, and he just let me HAVE IT in front of my peers.

What did he know? I was just a poor kid holed up in a homeless shelter with no aspirations of anything better. If memory serves me right, he cornered me during my lunch period and made a physical threat against me. I remember him saying something along the lines of he would “beat my little black [behind],” with along with a couple of derogatory racial epithets thrown in for good measure. Why a BLACK teacher would ever do something like that still boggles my mind. Not soon after that, without me having told a soul about the incidents, the teacher was gone. Things are a blur after that, but I know You were somewhere lurking in that equation. That memory haunted me for years, and I love You for wiping that memory far from my remembrance.

I love You for this reason also…

I never quite thanked You for giving me the courage to handle things the way I did when Grandma died. I was a little mad at her for going to Atlanta and not telling me about it. She took me everywhere she went, especially the kingdom hall. I know I was funny looking little guy, with my little leather briefcase and all the Watchtowers half tore up and stuffed inside. As long as I got to ride with Grandma, I did not much care at all where we went. We would stop at the IGA grocery store and get two RC colas and head to the kingdom hall, on every Saturday without fail. So, when she took off and did not take me, I was a little upset. I can remember it being mid-afternoon, and the phone ringing back to back. I looked at the caller ID, and all it said was “Fulton County.” I was keeping an eye on my younger siblings, and I wanted to be the “man of the house” and answer the phone. The voice on the other end asked to speak to the man or woman of the house, and since it was me (or so I thought), I made the bold announcement that I was him. The conversation that was to follow was definitely made for someone above my caliber.

The woman on the other end asked me what relation I was to Ruth-Ann Ewell, and I told her that I was her grandson. I was then told the gut-wrenching news that she was in the morgue and she passed away of a massive heart attack the previous day. All I could do is drop the phone momentarily and scream as loud as my 15-year old throat would allow. My mother was at a location where a phone was not readily available, so I had to call some members of our congregation to go to where she was and deliver the news. I was also given the responsibility of calling every family member and telling them that Grandma had died. What 15-year old who could barely wipe their nose could handle such a task without You? I love You for not allowing me to crash and burn during that time. I thank You for giving me what I needed to handle the turbulence that came with it.

You know the reasons why I love You…but why is that You love me so much?

LORD, I have done some downright trifling things in my day. How is it that You were able to look past my ugliness when I beat up the freckle-faced kid with the gold rings I had on my fingers? When his uncle jumped through the screen door and tried to attack me, You allowed me to escape sure death. I was only a kid then, but I am sure it brought You great displeasure. I know I must have really given You some heartburn the nights that I tiptoed out of the house to go have sex with my girlfriend. You put up with it for many nights, me setting my alarm clock for 2:30 am to creep out of my back door to go do things I had absolutely no business doing. I guess You needed to give me a good lesson, because on this night, You woke her father up while we were in the midst of our latest charade. It was pretty dark in the living room, and thankfully my clothes were stuffed in a corner, out of sight. I had to hide in the furnace closet, which was in front of the dining room table. Her father decided to sit down to a bowl of cereal and have a nice chat with his daughter. Little did he know that in the closet right in front of him was a little boy, paralyzed with fear and barely breathing so as to not make a sound. He went upstairs, and I put my clothes on as fast as I could and made a beeline to my house. I was never quite the same after that night, and I was certainly too afraid to make anymore late night house calls. Thank You for the spanking and the fear that came with it. That was a crucial turning point in my life, and You orchestrated the entire thing.

I can also recall a point when I was teenager where You literally had to drag me out of my own bedroom. In my Young, finite mind it was a safe haven for me. I had a Super Nintendo hooked up to small color TV that I could get lost in. I would steal some food stamps and take them to corner stone, and pass them off to one of the local drunkards to get me and him a fix. I would sneak whatever my beverage of choice was into my room and line them up across my closet shelf like most kids would line up their trophies. If I had a basketball net nearby, I would have cut it and draped it across a 40 oz bottle of Olde English 800 as a gag. I found great pleasure in being plastered while killing some hopeless video game character, all the while not knowing I was on the run. I was running from the realities of watching too many VCRs leave my house and not be replaced. I was running from the mysteries of not knowing where I came from or where I was going. I was running from a life of hand-me-down clothes and barely getting by. Everything I was supposed to love, I hated them with great passion. Everything that was supposed to disgust me, I chased and embraced them. There was a sick liberty to my hatred. I figured if I could hate a thing enough, eventually it would feel what I feel and go away. As I found out much later, I could never out-evil Your goodness.

Now…back to the circumstances of our FINALLY meeting.

Thinking about how much You love me and how many ditches You pulled me out of made me almost lose track of time. It was December 14^th, 2004. I was caught up in my latest shame after having been found in an adulterous affair. At the time of my exposure, I believe I was more angry at the fact that I got caught. Never mind the fact that I was totally wrong and totally at fault. Never mind the fact that I had brought shame to my marriage and to my children. To top it all off, my arrogance and total inability to feel any sort of remorse caused me to do something really stupid. In a contemptuous act of anger, I punched out my entertainment center. To this day, I do not know what prompted me to do something so insensate and just plain DUMB! As a reward, I spent the night in the hospital to receive stitches for my cuts and a cast for the bones that were broken in my hand.

I had no idea that a greater healing was up ahead…

When I returned home that night, I suddenly became torn up. The pain medication had worn off, but that was not the reason. The anger had subsided, and I was not sure why. I just decided to have a seat in my favorite recliner. It was pitch black in the room, which brought a certain sereneness and calm that I was not quite used to. Suddenly, a tear drop fell. I had a high tolerance for the agony that I was in, so I was not crying about that. I started to remember…

Remember what?

I remembered the pungent odor of the urine-stained apartment building that I once lived in. I remembered the crackling sounds of cans being squeezed as neighbors smoked crack in a crowded bathroom. I remembered the humiliation of “borrowing” sacks of potatoes so my family could eat something that day. I remembered the sound of shotgun pellets bouncing off the sliding board after the dope deal suddenly went bad. I remembered the laughter of classmates as I went to school in pants with a broken zipper and no underwear to cover me up. I remembered the embarrassment of breaking comb after comb trying to look presentable for picture day at school. I remembered the frustration of burning up loaves of bread trying to melt government cheese sandwiches that could not be cut thin enough. I remembered trying to sweeten pots of rice with mayonnaise because there was no sugar readily available.

Another tear drop fell…

I had blocked out the pain in my hand pretty good, so I was not crying about that. My two toddlers were fast asleep just feet from me, and I knew I was about to lose them forever. Just hours before, my lawn was so littered with white paper confessing my affair that I thought it snowed outside. In my laundry room was a pile of my best clothing, bleached and rendered useless after the discovery. In my driveway was a van with a bashed out side window, and I have my suspicions who committed that act. Above all else, in plain view was a 360 degree panorama of the destruction that I caused with my selfishness. Then another tear drop fell. And another one. And another one. All of a sudden, the floodgates were opened. Not only were eyes filled, but so was my belly.

“He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water” (John 7:38, NKJV).

Right in that comfortable recliner of mine came a Comforter that I knew not of. As I bawled in a knot, I began to utter words that my human ears had never heard before. Every affirmation that went up was reciprocated with a touch from Your wonderful hands. As I paced the floor to and fro, You met me with a waltz and slowed down my steps. As my tears began to dry, I started to remember..

Remember what?

I remembered the great miracles You had performed in my life. The scar below my neck is a sign that You saved my life after chicken pox infected my insides when I was two years old. I remembered You bringing a mystery woman to buy me $800 worth of clothes during the summer that I worked and all of my savings were taken. I remembered the full year that my oldest son lived with me and we lived blissfully and without incident. I remembered holding my second son and loving him like nothing else I had ever imagined when he was born. I remembered the love and sheer paradise that I felt after holding my daughter for the first time. I remembered my high school graduation and being triumphant, even though I attended seventeen different schools in my life. I remembered a chance meeting with a legendary writer when I was in the second grade, even though I did not know that it would shape my greatest passion at the time. I remembered the three times I nearly drowned in swimming pools and You saving me every single time. I remembered the students at the local university volunteering to pay for my braces when my teeth were the mockery of everyone in sight. In short…

I began to remember Your love for me!

LORD, this is a little note to tell You that I love You with my soul, my might and ALL of my strength. I thank You for not walking out on me in my adulterous state. I thank You for not walking out on me in my drunken state. I thank You for not walking out on me in my disobedient and absolutely rebellious state. I thank You for not walking out on me after every lie I told and every piece of rotten fruit that I produced. I thank You for loving me when I was too putrid and too poor to be loved. I thank You for noticing me when I was too dirty and unkempt to be noticed at all. I thank You for loving me through the confusion, the pain, the struggles and everything that helped to shape and mold me into the man that I am today. I will make more mistakes in the days to come. I will fall again and again. I will make poor judgments and even poorer decisions on occasion. But, I am at rest knowing that You will be here through it all. You are my everything, and I will never let You go.

The one that You loved first,

Damainion

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3. Lord, Increase Our Faith

“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you. And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove the speck from your eye’; and look, a plank is in your own eye? Hypocrite! First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” (Matthew 7:1-5, NKJV).

We are living in a time where, unfortunately, society lives and dies by the judgment which it doles out. If judgment, on any level, is not executed, the world’s system would most likely perish. The ideology of people is the very basis of worldly riches. If you pick up the latest fashion magazines, music reviews and the like, it is laden with judgment as to what is the latest trend and what is considered out of style. Regrettably, these fads change so rapidly that most people have fits of dizziness while trying to keep up with it all. As the seasons change, so does the make-up. Seemingly as the hour changes, the hottest fashion designer has become lukewarm or has found their home on a snow-capped mountain somewhere.

Even in an ever-plummeting music industry, it seems as if the judgment of others dictates how many CDs and memorabilia will leave the shelves. An artist can be lava hot one week, topping every chart and selling out every venue. But, God forbid they find themselves in the precarious position of either taking a stand on an unpopular topic or doing something to taint their image, the fan base is polarized and the products gather dust. The music can be stellar and the live performances can be legendary. However, the package in its entirety must be enticing in the eyes of men.

What we fail to realize is that all of the people making the news and headlining the concerts are simply people: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23, NKJV). The income tax bracket is the great separation between those who work in an office and those who work on the big screen. They make the same mistakes and have struggles that are tantamount to the average person walking down the street. They have the same flaws and deal with the same ups and downs as every other oxygen-breathing human being. It can be argued that these same people that supposedly live a far more lavish quality of life are also considerably more miserable because of the microscope that is constantly beaming over their lives. People who have no experience in many matters have the opportunity to fly around like birds seeking after their prey, wanting to devour every morsel of depravity for the mere purpose of regurgitating it to a hungry public. This same public is submerged in its own pig pen, but there is no light to shine so that the roaches may scatter.

While these public matters are constantly being wrestled with and figured out, it is the inner sanctity of the home that is under considerable attack. There are many issues that surround us that we have absolutely no knowledge of. Yet and still, we somehow become instantaneous experts and make statements such as “I would never do what they did!” Rarely do we take the time to step into another person’s shoes and examine every detail of the situation. Love gone askew may well be the number one source of people speaking on a subject that they have no knowledge of. The latter part of 1 Peter 4:15 (NKJV) warns us against being a “busybody in other people’s matters,” but we are swift to circumvent this rule.

For example, a couple have been married for many years. They have a beautiful home, outstanding children and careers that most would die to have. All of the bills are paid, the bank accounts are full and even the grass on the lawn is a lush, green color. The cars never break down, the dog’s shots are up to date and everything is going fine. But, underneath the veneer of blissful happiness is the abuse that goes on in the silent of the night. Only the closest of confidants are aware of the situation, and they even know how long this has been going on. Those closest to the situation have the same bit of seemingly sage advice: “GET OUT!” Shockingly, the one being abused refuses to leave “for security reasons.” Instead of having a security guard on the premises to prevent further abuse, the occasional beating seems more reasonable. After all, who would want to leave a situation of convenience and easy access because of a black eye or a knot upside the head? A charge card to every major department store and more than one luxury vehicle in the driveway cries, “STAY AND TAKE IT!” On the other side, the extra make-up to cover up the bruise screams, “GET A RESTRAINING ORDER!” The latter part of the argument wins after every confrontation, and all the friends who disagree say under their breath, “I would never stay in a relationship like that!”

However…

The untold portion of this story is that those “friends” are broke, divorced and quite unhappy themselves. They have not the foggiest idea what is feels like to have an overpriced maid to clean the house, top to bottom. They have never experienced the decadence of eating out five days a week or vacationing at least one month out of the year. They have never tasted the grandiloquence of flying first class or buying a diamond ring “just because it is Wednesday.” They have judged the matter from a one-sided point of view. Although their point of view is utterly correct in this scenario, they fail to understand that anything one-sided is usually tainted. A one-sided point of view is self-serving, and only of any use if the end result is the one that the one with the opinion is seeking. The LORD Himself reminds us that “it is not good to show partiality in judgment” (Proverbs 24:23, NKJV).

Another great example is when a lifelong friendship comes to a fork in the road. Two friends have been through every conceivable trial and overcame them all. Every good time that could be experienced, they experienced them together. Parties, graduations and various other celebrations have been enjoyed in concert. The pair are so conjoined at the hip, they could be Siamese twins if they did not look so different.

Then it happens!

One friend meets a person so incredibly stunning and begins a relationship far from platonic. This new relationship is a blazing fire, and ripple effects of them entering into a room can be felt by all. The other friend is stuck in a cumbersome relationship whose fire is comparable to that of a matchstick. When fire spreads, it tends to burn everything in sight, and subsequently, the disinterested friend is scorched with jealousy. The jealousy sears a hole so deep, they make a move so inconceivable to the human brain. They entice their friend’s mate into a night of masquerading and romance. The unsuspecting friend discovers her friend and her lover in a sweat-filled exchange of affection and is instantly brokenhearted. Plates are thrown, bodily harm is threatened and an impromptu riot has spilled over into the front yard. What in the world is going on here? A friend would NEVER do this to a friend, right? The person who became your chief confidant and greatest motivator has become the source of your greatest affliction. After the smoke has cleared from all the fire that was burned, “advisors” from every side tell you to kill that friend in their sleep! “No way should you remain friends with that person” is very astute advice in this situation.

However…

The untold portion of this story is that these near former friends have shared more than just a friendship. When one friend’s mother was dying of cancer, the other spent every waking moment they could in the hospital, comforting them as best as they could. When the lights and the gas were turned off for non-payment, one friend provided financial stability for the other and saw to it that certain needs were provided for. When one friend lost their job suddenly and had to abruptly move out of their home, the other opened their doors and would not accept a dime of rent money. When one friend toiled and studied under a mountain of books in school, the other friend was the only support team they had, and even helped to pay for the extra tutoring when the grant money came up short. Photo albums of memories and a catalog of events caught on tape conjure up reflections of the past that literally touch the soul. So much as a week has never gone by with these friends apart, and no matter what the situation was, they protected one another’s interests to the utmost degree. While the incident hurt in places they never knew existed, they have a heart to heart, forgive one another and decide to patch things up.

It is not for us to judge the decisions of others, no matter how much we love them. If we see a pregnant woman walking down the street drinking alcohol, the first thing that creeps up in our mind is she destroying the future of an unborn, defenseless child. While in context this may true, there are underlying reasons for this choice. We did not see the rape that occurred that resulted in her pregnancy in the first place. We do not see the ghetto, urine-infested neighborhood she goes home to every night after bagging the groceries of nasty customers every single day. We do not see the barren cupboards, the wires coming out of the box spring of her bed or hear the sound the sink makes when water wants to come out, but does not. All we is the reaction, but never the actions that caused it. It is bitter and defiantly uneducated judgment that brings us to the wrong conclusions. Consequently, we lose the resolve to be a witness of our own coming out party when the LORD Jesus Christ swept away the mess out of our own carpets.

Judgment shatters relationships, destroys home, bursts apart cities, divides nations and savages everything until world wars occur and mass killings takes place by the millions. At the root of every war, every religious argument and every fractured friendship is the stench of judgment. The stink of judgment makes the aromatic pleasure of love turn foul and noxious. The bitterness of judgment turns the honey-coated flavor of peace into a concoction that puckers the cheeks to the point of agony. Judgment is a shoddy game of role reversal, as it turns smiles into frowns and celebration into agitation. Judgment is as public drunkenness, stumbling from curb to curb with no solid foundation to sit. The very essence of a love-based relationship is to LOVE THEM THROUGH the trials, and not push them away into a deeper state of frivolity. In remembering the times where the decisions we made were not the best, we have the opportunity to glean from experiences and offer mechanisms of hope, love and support that will help them and not hinder them further. None of us have arrived and we will continue to make mistakes along the way. But, the one mistake that we should never make is the passing of judgment upon the heads of one another.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Damainion L. Ewell is the Editor-In-Chief of Gospel Highlights, an all-new Christian lifestyle and gospel music magazine. The magazine was launched in May, 2009, and can be viewed at http://www.gospelhighlights.com. He has been a freelance writer for almost 12 years, and his work has been seen by readers all over the world.

Damainion relocated back to the Washington, D.C. area in late 2008, and his pen is on fire for the glory of Jesus Christ. Along with his magazine endeavors, he is working on his first book, the tentatively titled “The Articles Of Inspiration,” and is enjoying the perks of being the father of three beautiful children.

Damainion can be reached via his official website: http://www.godswriter.com.

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“The LORD will open to you His good treasure, the heavens, to give the rain to your land in its season, and to bless all the work of your hand. You shall lend to many nations, but you shall not borrow. And the LORD will make you the head and not the tail; you shall be above only, and not be beneath, if you heed the commandments of the LORD your God, which I command you today, and are careful to observe them.” (Deuteronomy 28:12-13, NKJV).

Envision yourself overtaken in the biggest flood imaginable. The water collapses upon the heads of the people all in one continual dropping. The force of the water causes buildings to explode off of their foundations. The sheer force of the waterfall causes concrete to crack and seemingly immovable objects to float down the road like a life support device. Crops are destroyed, and any unfortunate soul that stands in the way is overcome by the brute strength of the tidal wave.

Not a pretty picture to paint, now is it?

This is the tactic of our mortal enemy. His strategy of warfare is to simply OVERWHELM an unsuspecting person that is going about their day to day business. He gets lustful satisfaction in driving those he hates into the most desolate, dry and cactus-yielding circumstances that his putrid mind can conjure up. The enemy DESPISES moisture of any kind, as it depicts a sense of life and productivity in his demonic eyes. If you think about it, what causes plants to grow? Sunshine and moisture are the two major components that causes vegetation to flourish to its highest potential. There is no force darker than the enemy, and the dry land is his playground.

What is this dry land that I am talking about?

When the monsoons, tsunamis and storms of life inundate our daily living and cause us discouragement on every side, we look to a dry land to wipe our heads, get warm and come up with another plan of action. We look to this dry land for refuge, and quite simply, we look to this dry land to take a break! Unfortunately, we are not aware that the storm came to knock us off course and to rob us of everything we love. Divorce is the storm that comes to wash away the beauty and awe that a family intact represents. Child molestation is the storm that comes to wash away the innocence of a child and leaves the stain of a tainted and uncertain future. War is the storm that comes to wash away the peace of a large territory and brings enmity to nations of people without a legitimate reason. Drug addiction is the storm that comes to wash away the freedom of a focused mind and drag it into the deepest pits of depravity. Sex is the storm that comes to wash away the pristine condition of a body blessed by God and ravages it with AIDS, Herpes and various perversions.

The flood is coming!

In the life of every person that walks this planet, there is absolutely one certainty: the storm is on the way. The storm is uncomfortable to the point where most do not even want to leave from underneath the roof that keeps them dry. In our own finite minds, if we stay indoors, the chances of getting wet are slim to none. But, in the mind of our mortal adversary, he has you right where he wants you when you stay indoors. He does NOT want you to have a rain-soaked pants leg or a poncho hanging in the closet. He does NOT want you to have an umbrella rack or a hooded sweater to protect your face. He does not even want you to have a newspaper to place over your head when those items are not available. He wants you to back up and retreat like some scared school child being harassed by the locker room bully.

No one can ever say with a straight face that they have faced the tsunami under their own power and prevailed. You would flee for the highest point of land possible and let the chips fall where they may. No one can ever say with a straight face that when the tornado came in close enough range to bring the destruction, they stood pat without a smidgen of fear. Anyone with a brain would flee to the cellar underground or high-tail it out of town. No one can ever say with a straight face that when the hurricane came, they did not for one second think that safety was within reach. You gather up any precious memory you could and pray that the storm would not desecrate the rest. The storm the enemy will bring your way is his Operation Desert Shield of sorts, using Agent Orange and other tactics to dismember your joy and disarm you of your peace. However, this is his biggest mistake. The enemy brings all his water and storms all at once to destroy you.

What does God do?

Now, envision yourself walking outdoors to a light sprinkle. The mist is not wet enough to cause your clothing to become drenched, yet wet enough to leave water beads on every surface. The condensation upon the grass provides a cool drink that causes the lawn to become greener and more vibrant. The continual dripping from on high provides a sip to the flower and taunts their petals to open up. As the sun peeks through the showery atmosphere, you notice a beautiful rainbow in the distance. Every color that the human eye can comprehend draws you closer, and you are not thinking about the pot the gold or the leprechauns that legends have so tenaciously purported. You see the blessings that abound in the offing.

Welcome to your “Seattle” experience!

“Thus I establish My covenant with you: Never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of the flood; never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth." And God said: "This is the sign of the covenant which I make between Me and you, and every living creature that is with you, for perpetual generations: I set My rainbow in the cloud, and it shall be for the sign of the covenant between Me and the earth. It shall be, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the rainbow shall be seen in the cloud; and I will remember My covenant which is between Me and you and every living creature of all flesh; the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh” (Genesis 9:11-15, NKJV).

Seattle is, by all accounts, one of the rainiest cities in the United States. It is overcast or rainy at least 200 days per year and averages nearly 40 feet per year in precipitation. The rains come and saturates the land, but Seattle has an unusually low record of heavy downpour. Only a few times in the history of this beautiful city has any flood activity ever been recorded. Why?

“When the enemy comes in like a flood, The Spirit of the LORD will lift up a standard against him” (Isaiah 59:19, NKJV).

Think of the blessings of the LORD as a constant drizzle. He reigns in the rain and the storms of your life. His love whets your appetite, and his blessings soak your existence. As the enemy backs you into that dry land with seemingly no place to go, the LORD brings the water that pumps life back into your life. The LORD removes every tumbleweed and every dust-ridden experience and commands the outcome to be rich and lavish. The LORD turns off the faucet of the monsoon and transforms it into a sunny day. The LORD silences the winds of a hurricane and transforms them into a breeze only strong enough to shake the wind chimes. The LORD subdues the waves of a tsunami and transforms them into an innocent surfer’s greatest adventure.

“Like the appearance of a rainbow in a cloud on a rainy day, so was the appearance of the brightness all around it. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the LORD” (Ezekiel 1:28, NKJV).

Your Seattle experience with the LORD is one to be treasured, and so as long as you stay in His face, the drizzle will keep coming. If you take a garden hose and spray water directly into the sun, most likely a rainbow will form in the middle of the stream. It is in the drizzle that He provides that will prevent you from becoming the victim of a dry experience. Allow Him to rain upon you His continual love and protection. Allow Him to reign in every avenue and in every aspect of your life. Allow His Seattle experience to gently wash away the anxiety, pain and letdowns that have visited your doorstep. Allow His gentle mist to captivate your senses and reinvigorate your walk with Him. Allow Him to make your mornings a fresh dew and your nights a deluge of relaxation. If you are willing to walk into the deepest part of the drizzle, the enemy and all of his dryness will flee. On that day, henceforth and forever more, the victory is yours!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Damainion L. Ewell is the Editor-In-Chief of Gospel Highlights, an all-new Christian lifestyle and gospel music magazine. The magazine was launched in May, 2009, and can be viewed at http://www.gospelhighlights.com. He has been a freelance writer for almost 12 years, and his work has been seen by readers all over the world.

Damainion relocated back to the Washington, D.C. area in late 2008, and his pen is on fire for the glory of Jesus Christ. Along with his magazine endeavors, he is working on his first book, the tentatively titled “The Articles Of Inspiration,” and is enjoying the perks of being the father of three beautiful children.

Damainion can be reached via his official website: http://www.godswriter.com.

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Dear Pain,

For many years now, I have toiled day and night to unravel myself from out of your clutches. No matter how hard I would pull away, you would push and force yourself upon me all the more. My feet could not carry me away fast enough, as you would pick up the pace with every step that I took. No matter what big boulder I found to hide underneath, the strength of your arms were always strong enough to lift it and shine your bright light on me once again. Many miles have I traveled, and with every inch that I moved, you seemed to be lurking in darkness somewhere close by. There was no attainable restraining order to compel you to keep your distance. There were no bodyguards I could hire so when you came to my doorstep, they could forcibly remove you from the premises. There were no private investigators to hire to track your steps for a change. There is not a Lojack system made that can hunt you down as you are on the move.

What am I supposed to do with you?

You came after me in so many different disguises, I could never tell if it was you or Happiness, the one that I truly sought after. You know Happiness, don’t you? That is the one that you wish you could be, but you fail mightily to live up to its potential. Happiness never ruffles the feathers that you continuously do without thought. Happiness is the one that delivers the most elegant flowers money can buy just because, while your presence kills every plant in the room. Happiness generates an impenetrable smile on the faces of a world riddled with guilt, while you pile on the shame day by day. Happiness is the testimony of those who came out of darkness, while you are a continual trap for those seeking a way out. I never quite forgot some of the tricks you have played on me over the years.

Do you want to know what you did?

Your memory is impeccable, but the time has come to fight back! Do you remember that tent at my grandmother’s house that you helped a relative of mine put up when I was seven years old? Of course you do! That was one of your greatest masterpieces, and you held your artwork over my head for YEARS, as if Picasso himself painted it. I thought we were camping out, but you had a grandiose plot to take whatever innocence I had and suffocate it to death. I was touched on, prodded upon, poked and teased, as you sat in the background with your front row seats and popcorn in hand. As you spilled your soda with laughter, I unzipped myself out of the tent, too afraid to speak, too shattered for words, and yet too naive to realize that something was wrong. You camouflaged your actions and were savvy enough not to tear the mask off for some quite sometime. That was masterful work on your part!

Guess what else I remember?

I did not catch on to your slickness immediately, but you brought the same trick, just with a different relative. At least this time, you made sure this person had their own place to live and would not have to worry about getting caught. You came fully equipped with all of that and a custom designed muzzle, in case I ever got the urge to ever speak up. You shut my mouth, and in turn, I shut out the world. You sat back with nachos and a box of candy this time, in order to enjoy the show a little bit longer. I got a good whiff of you shortly thereafter, and it stunk terribly! As soon as you got wind of the fact that I smelled you, you figured the smell of a liquor bottle would counteract your stench. So, you brought that to me instead of cleaning yourself up. Lo and behold, you figured right! I loved that cheap 40 ounce smell more than I loved the smell of soap in the morning.

Oh baby, I am just getting started!

You were brazen enough to attempt to masquerade yourself all around me as Happiness, while doing all you could to satisfy my sexual appetite. I know Happiness from the longest distance of the horizon, and never once did it bring any sexual activity to put a smile on my face. It only brought the things that are guaranteed to last beyond my lifetime. Happiness brings a legacy of love and hope, while the few minutes of titillation you bring only brought poverty in my body and spirit. I should have known it was you, but I enjoyed your overtures so much that I could not get enough. In concert with my drinking habit, the sex thing took over my life, and once again, you had VIP seating to watch it all. You even had the gall to have a velvet rope available, allowing access to those certain bottles of liquor and women that you knew I could not say no to. Seeing me crying out for something I never knew was there or even existed on your big screen must have tickled your ribs day after day!

I was a dog…and love was the piece of meat that you had me chasing!

You know exactly what I mean! You knew not having a father anywhere on the scene would wreck me. So what did you do? You played hopscotch with me by letting strange men put one foot in the box, and as soon as the fire got too hot, they would remove their foot and tuck tail! You knew that drugs would ruin and destroy any remnant of a family that I ever had. So what did you do? You allowed this little piece of white rock to torment, torture, corrupt and totally mutilate my family from the inside. And what the drugs and lack of parenting did not do, the absence of any family structure of any kind finished the job. No family reunions. Rumblings of me being kidnapped by my grandmother when I just an infant. Abusive uncles and even more treacherous aunts. Having brothers and sisters that do not even know I exist. Relatives being killed and coming up missing without a trace. When you lay the frosting on the cake, you lay it on thick!

And for an encore, you erected your greatest pièce de résistance of all!

I guess you thought I had not squirmed and floundered around enough looking for what it was I was in desperate need of. So, in your greatest transformation plot of my life, you bring marriage. Surely, this is Happiness showing me an inordinate amount of gratitude. You backed up for a few years, I am guessing to scourge someone else for a season. I never thought I would ever hear from you again. My goodness, was I wrong! You jumped on my back at the most opportune time, when things were at their lowest. You brought a few of your cousins along for the ride this go round. Me and your cousin, Adultery ran around the block a couple of times. You and him are first cousins, right? You have another cousin, Physical Abuse, that I especially have a distaste for. That one is so wicked, it needed two names! Lying and Cussing are two other relatives that I met along the way, but I beat them until they ran home to their mothers! I believe you had an aunt or an uncle named Miscarriage that I ran into about six or seven times during the marriage, but I never quite understood what beef it had with me. Oh well, I smacked it around and two children came back to back anyway. I did not think Obesity and Bad Health were related to you. I always thought you just recruited those two clowns just for the hell of it.

I am guessing since none of those jackasses could get it done, you went and got the Grand Marshal of the whole tribe: Accusation.

Now that joker can be murder on any marriage, and has killed lesser arrangements throughout history. Accusation came in and stuck its dagger right in the heart of my marriage and killed it at the root. I bet you and your posse danced in the street as I skulked down the street with one trash bag of clothes and the pulse that kept me alive. I know you like pouring salt into the wounds of those you victimized, so what would be more caustic and painful than to have my children call me, wondering if I would ever return. The greatest twinge of all came when I was never able to communicate to them that Daddy was never coming home.

Some things have dawned on me…

I have dealt with you, watched you in action and have come to some conclusions. You have had under the table dealings with Failure and Shame, have you not? Those characters are even more shady than YOU, so you had better watch out for those two. Failure comes to stick the knife in just that much deeper when everything has already crumbled under your feet. As I walked down the street with that trash bag, that cheap trick was not even courteous enough to even help me drag the bag when my arms got tired. It just giggled and snickered at me half to death. Shame is just a pitiful maggot altogether. It comes when everyone points the finger after Accusation gets finished doing its dirty work. Shame is not even bold enough to stand on its own merit. Shame is an absolute waste of space and should be kicked out of your crew immediately!

Now, why am I writing you this long-winded drivel of a mess called a letter?

I am glad that you asked! I am not sure if I have ever faced you head-on. I am not sure if I have ever given you credence in my life at all. I allowed those masks that you provided to me to take over and totally ignore your presence. You love it when you can play games in the background and do your bidding when nobody is looking. You especially love it when you can play some sardine can type of character and lay in the back of the shelf, untouched and gathering dust. But after much study and even more pondering of our life-long journey, one of us has to abandon ship. The world and all of the jewels it contains is not big enough for the both of us. You weigh me down, and I fight tooth and nail to kick you out every time I smell your concoction brewing. You put your hands on me, and I want to crawl underneath a bed and hide. You spit in my face and do not even brush your teeth, and all I do is stand there with a napkin.

NO MORE!

I am serving you your eviction papers as of today! You have haunted me around every city and run me out of every town. You followed me from place to place, and crippled blessings that I did not even know were there. You have repeated your offenses time after time, without forethought or compassion. You have kept me awake countless nights, and made me a walking zombie on countless days. There is no pot of gold at the end of your rainbow. There is no finish line at the end of the race with you. You are, without question, a never-ending circle of hopelessness and anguish. You will not take up another minute of my time as you attempt to remind me of the past. You are my worst enemy, and we can no longer breathe the same air. I want nothing more to do with you. I have finally found Happiness, and we plan to stay together for the remainder of my life. If you try to barge in yet again and break up what Happiness and I have started, do yourself a favor: walk away and never look back. You are dead to me, and you will be sorely disappointed if you try to start any nonsense with me!

No longer yours,

Damainion

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Damainion L. Ewell is the Editor-In-Chief of Gospel Highlights, an all-new Christian lifestyle and gospel music magazine. The magazine was launched in May, 2009, and can be viewed at http://www.gospelhighlights.com. He has been a freelance writer for almost 12 years, and his work has been seen by readers all over the world.

Damainion relocated back to the Washington, D.C. area in late 2008, and his pen is on fire for the glory of Jesus Christ. Along with his magazine endeavors, he is working on his first book, the tentatively titled “The Articles Of Inspiration,” and is enjoying the perks of being the father of three beautiful children.

Damainion can be reached via his official website: http://www.godswriter.com.

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As you gather up every picture frame on display throughout the house, you see precious memories of days and years gone by. Family picnics, sporting events, trips to the circus, and even outings to the amusement park that scared the dickens out of you. White teeth are a marvel to behold, especially the ones that are missing from mouths of the children. Your eyes gaze endlessly at the kids standing in front of the monkey bars, swinging up dangerously high in the swing set, and your child’s first baseball practice. All of the pictures with you and the children have been strategically placed to make the obvious not so obvious.

You look at more family pictures, and the ones you dread the most finally make their way to the top of the pile. It is you and your mate during happier times. The love in your eyes glistens like the North Star, and sparkling is the anticipation of what is to come. Everything in your lives is a yes. Is he the one? Yes! Is she the one? Yes! Will I happily stroll away from every vile temptation that comes my way for the experience of one more night of wedded bliss? Yes! Is her storm my storm, and more importantly, will I be her umbrella? Yes! Is his trial my trial, and more importantly, will I hold him up and down until the trial is overcome? Yes! Will he be my everything, even when we have nothing at all? Yes! Will she be my all, even when all seems lost? Yes! Will she be my love and soul’s sole longing even if she lie dying in front of my eyes? Yes! Will he be my example of togetherness and intimacy, even if he is falling apart in the shadows? Yes!

Am I willing to run an extra mile when the first mile just would not do? In unison, your eyes said yes. Am I willing to sacrifice all, all for the purpose of sacrificing for each other? In unison, your smile said yes. Am I willing to stay in the race, no matter who can outrun us or who hits the finish line first? In unison, the holding of your hands said yes. Am I willing to give my life at the drop of a hat, without hesitation and on a moment’s notice? The white dress with the long train and the double-breasted tuxedo symbolized a yes. Am I willing to take the burns of the fire so that the other will not even smell the smoke from afar? The two-carat princess cut platinum diamond that ornamented the union shimmered a yes. Am I willing to swallow the bitter pill of pride, as to not hold back a morsel of what my love has to offer? With the first kiss as husband and wife, the skipping beats of your hearts pitter-pattered a yes. You drop your head, and suddenly….

BOOM!

You fling every picture across the room in a fit of rage, chased with agony and mixed with confusion. What a deadly concoction! What in the world just happened?

“You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men”(Matthew 5:13, NKJV).

You come to the dreadful conclusion that you are no longer in love. You have held on for a long time by the skin of your teeth, praying for a brighter day that never came. You have held on by the tiniest thread, crying for a change in the climate that never came. You have held on to the memories of love that have passed away in the innermost chambers of your spirit. Love was supposed to be the sweetest taste your tongue has ever experienced. But, you are experiencing a truth that impales you in the gut time and again. The truth is simple: living a life without love is like adding salt to a meal that has no flavor. Salt in a relationship is symbolic of the flavor and usefulness that each other brings to the table. Without the flavor that the salt brings, it is only good to lay out on the sidewalk to break the ice. Once the ice is broken, the walk may not be as slick and hazardous, but the salt is dirty and of no good use to anyone.

“Can a fig tree, my brethren, bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Thus no spring yields both salt water and fresh” (James 3:12, NKJV).

Love is not just a form of existence. It is not stagnant or stale, and it is in a state of constant movement and elevation. Love is supposed to take you to heights unknown and to places unseen by the nakedness of your eyes. By definition, love is “a strong, positive emotion of regard and affection,” and the strength of it will hold up the axis of the earth if necessary. Without love at the root of the relationship, the flowers that spring forth will wither away. Without love as the flotation device, the relationship will drown in the deepest trenches of the sea. You cannot have any semblance of affection if love is not center stage. Maintaining a healthy, emotional and nourishing relationship without love is as futile as trying to pick oranges off an apple tree. There is simply no way to keep up the fallacy that love is just what is seen on the surface. A smile can simply be a camouflaged frown. The twinkle in your eye can be crystallized tear that has been stuck too long to fall. The holding of the hands can be a discovery that the hands you hold still has a pulse, much to your disdain. Much like scratching a lottery ticket, once you scrape away the dust that covered up the truth, you have found that you have no matches anywhere.

Now…

As you grab the broom and dust pan to pick up the fragments of a life that once was, you look at broken glass. The pieces are broken in big chunks, which can easily be solved if it were a puzzle. You place one piece of glass on the table, and one after the other until the glass puzzle is solved. All that remains are the cracks that symbolize the brokenness of the relationship. Who threw it across the room to be smashed in pieces? Why are there cracks in the glass where glass cleaner once made it shine? At one point, the glass had such a radiance that it would rival a day’s worth of sunshine. That radiance and beauty has now been reduced to cracks and chips in the glass. As you look at the cracks, it dawns on you…

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new”(2 Corinthians 5:17, NKJV).

The time has come to put away the old pictures and create an atmosphere for new memories to be made. The kids have gotten bigger since these pictures were taken. His hairline has receded slightly since these pictures were taken. Her stomach is not quite the same length and width since these pictures were taken. You must put away the memories the first honeymoon and make plans for a second one. You must put away the memories of what used to make you laugh and discover the new jokes that tickle your funny bone. You must put away the memories where you shared your first kiss and mark the spot of every kiss that is to come. Unlike certain fruit that are only sweet during a specific season, love is a fruit that is ripe for the picking all year long. During the winter, love is the warmth that wraps you up by the fireplace and snuggles you close to the point of oneness. During the spring, love is the buds that announce to the world that a beautiful flower is on the way. During the summer, love is the cool that drapes across your face as sweat beads trickle down your body. During the fall, love is the color change that makes the foliage a sight to behold.

“Salt is good, but if the salt loses its flavor, how will you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and have peace with one another” (Mark 9:50, NKJV).

What are willing to do to bring back that flavor that spiced your life for seemingly a lifetime? How far are you willing to go repair the breach that the devil has so obviously devised in your life? Will you allow despondency to be the anchor that leaves your relationship in a stand still? Or, will you be bold enough to grab the box cutter and break the chains? Salt is only as good as its freshness and the purpose of its use. Old salt has an abominable stench to it, worthy of the nearest trash bag within reach. In season and out of season, love is the invigorating spice that brings salt and light to every area of your life. It may take work, and it may take re-seasoning until the taste buds sing a new song. But, in that song, there is a dance. In that dance, there is joy. And in that joy, there is a newness that would have never came unless you did the work. Love, if seasoned just right, is the flavor of life and the taste thereof is magnificent.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Damainion L. Ewell is the Editor-In-Chief of Gospel Highlights, an all-new Christian lifestyle and gospel music magazine. The magazine was launched in May, 2009, and can be viewed at http://www.gospelhighlights.com. He has been a freelance writer for almost 12 years, and his work has been seen by readers all over the world.

Damainion relocated back to the Washington, D.C. area in late 2008, and his pen is on fire for the glory of Jesus Christ. Along with his magazine endeavors, he is working on his first book, the tentatively titled “The Articles Of Inspiration,” and is enjoying the perks of being the father of three beautiful children.

Damainion can be reached via his official website: http://www.godswriter.com.

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Stop Bringing Knives To Gun Fights!

“Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having girded your waist with truth, having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one” (Ephesians 6:13-16, NKJV).

Are you strong enough to stand up against the accusation?

You seem to have an edge in life. The goals have been laid out, the sacrifices have been identified and you are willing to walk through fire to make your dreams a reality. You have the prayed the prayers, forsaken the plate and worshiped to the point of nearly looking foolish. You are doing the work that is necessary in order to produce the fruit of what your labor dictates should come. The job is going well, the boss loves you, and your co-workers invite you to every function. You are a well-recognized figure in the church, and the pastor has developed a certain rapport with you. Even the children are behaving in your presence! Your spouse still has the twinkle in their eye when they look at you, even after the years of hardship and turmoil nearly spoiled the union. The bumps in the road seem fewer and fewer. The mortgage is paid on time, yet again. The tithes are accompanied with seed for yet another week. The tires on the cars are not flat and there is no annoying “check engine” light in the dashboard. You are praising God in your little vacuum because everything is going so right. A little too right, in fact. Suddenly, it comes…

“For the mouth of the wicked and the mouth of the deceitful have opened against me; They have spoken against me with a lying tongue. They have also surrounded me with words of hatred, and fought against me without a cause. In return for my love they are my accusers, but I give myself to prayer” (Psalms 109:2-4, NKJV).

The accusation has been made. Not just the kind of accusation that rolls off your back like a duck in deep water. This accusation is an earthquake. It has shook the very foundation of your life. The bridge that brought you close to God in the first place is on the verge of crumbling. The pillars that hold your strength erect are breaking at the seams. Your reputation could be stained to the point of no return. The accusation came forth with so much force, yet with no warning at all. All of a sudden, your friends seem like long lost strangers. The phone that used to buzz your hip day and night is either broke or not being called. Unfortunately, your phone is brand new, so it must be the latter. The invites that used to be left on your desk seemingly every week have stopped coming. Oftentimes, with an open accusation comes an even more open shame. You drive in the rain, and yet your eyes are the ones that need windshield wipers. You go to the store to get some things for the house, and the pain is so distracting that you wander from isle to isle, forgetting the grocery list altogether. No one trusts you anymore. You do not even trust yourself. The accusation has turned up the temperature in your life, and you are at the point of boiling.

Are you strong enough to stand up against the accusation?

You want to move as far away as the east and the west would allow the divide. You long for that “easy button” that you see on countless commercials, but none of those exist. Why did this happen? Where did this come from? The welcoming arms of the church have become the shutting door in your face. The rapport between you and the pastor have become numerous, unreturned voicemail messages. Even the light that would accompany your family at the very sight of you has become dim. The kiss that greeted you at the door every evening from the one you swore your life to has departed. The hot meal that awaited you after a hard day’s work is now a frozen dinner, or no dinner at all. The conversations that brought a gratifying end to the hustle and bustle of the day are now arguments riddled with degradation. Slowly but surely, the“I love you, baby!” that meant so much has been replaced with “I hate you!,” “look at what you have done!,” and “you have ruined our lives!” The hugs have become slaps in the face and articles of clothing thrown onto the front porch. The pictures that hung on the wall are cut up into mere confetti, worthy of being thrown in the garbage can as if the memories are trash. Everything you thought was unbreakable is being destroyed right before your very eyes. You have no idea what else to do or say. The accusation is winning the race and you have lost your breath trying to catch up. Suddenly, it comes…

“Then I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, now salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brethren, who accused them before our God day and night, has been cast down” (Revelation 12:10, NKJV).

You wake up one morning, encapsulated with bleeding wounds and despair. But, this morning is different for some reason. You hear birds serenading you off in the distance. The inviting scent of coffee brewing and children playing in the offing begins your long journey of getting out of bed. You wipe the sleep out of your eyes and look around. Even your surroundings look brighter and more  vibrant than usual. Did you hire a decorator and simply forgot about it? That is not it. Do you have a  butler or a housekeeper on the payroll? No, you do not. A sunbeam bathes you before the morning  shower, and it instantaneously sets off fireworks in the deepest trench of your soul.

“For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, and being ready to punish all disobedience when your obedience is fulfilled” (2 Corinthians 10:4-6, NKJV).

That sweet, still and subtle voice that you recognize so well says it is time to fight! This accusation that was made against you is not about YOU! This accusation almost blew you away, but the blow was not meant for YOU! You are meant to touch the world in a miraculous way. Everything that the  LORD has ordained for you has absolutely nothing to do with YOU! You are His vessel, specifically chosen and assigned for a specific purpose. You are meant to the touch the lives of a people broken and completely battered from head to toe. You are justification for the unjustified. You are inspiration for the uninspired. You are the smile for the saddened and Kleenex for the teary eyed. This accusation was the plot of the enemy to assassinate your assignment.

This is the final showdown at the OK Corral!

This fight is for all the marbles, and the enemy has brought every bazooka and rocket launcher in hell’s inventory to wipe you out. Your murmuring, complaining and complacent attitude are but little knives, not sharp enough to cut a tomato or give your fingers a hangnail. The enemy has brought theheavy artillery to WAR against you, and you step up to the plate with butterknives. The fight for your soul and the souls assigned to you require more than a utensil only fit to butter your toast! How do you take the fight to the enemy?

“The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much” (James 5:16, NKJV).

Get on your face and rebuke devils in the name of Jesus! Do you want your life back? Do your want your name back? Do you want your love back? Do you want your smile back? Do you want your want your reputation back? Do you want your relationships back? How dare you be endowed with power, love and a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7) and bring knives to a gun battle! Demons TREMBLE at the mere mention of the name of Jesus (James 2:19). Your greatest fight is fought on your face, praying and supplicating before your God. He will heed your battle cry and supply you with all that is necessary to win the battle. Your prayers will avail you to the winning side. Your prayers will avail you to the finish line. Leave the knives at the steakhouse and come to the battle with an arsenal of weaponry. That arsenal begins and ends with prayer.

Are you strong enough to stand up against the accusation?

Yes you are. Pray, and watch your telephone start ringing again. Pray, and watch your children shower you with adulation again. Pray, and watch your boss suddenly give you a raise. Pray, and watch every lie and deception spoken about you die a painful death. Pray, and watch your smile slowly return.

Pray, and watch your reputation return to you better than ever. Pray, and watch the enemy pack his bags and flee the scene! Above all else, pray, and watch the LORD bring the victory, no matter what the circumstances are against you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Damainion L. Ewell is the Editor-In-Chief of Gospel Highlights, an all-new Christian lifestyle and gospel music magazine. The magazine was launched in May, 2009, and can be viewed at http://www.gospelhighlights.com. He has been a freelance writer for almost 12 years, and his work has been seen by readers all over the world.

Damainion relocated back to the Washington, D.C. area in late 2008, and his pen is on fire for the glory of Jesus Christ. Along with his magazine endeavors, he is working on his first book, the tentatively titled “The Articles Of Inspiration,” and is enjoying the perks of being the father of three beautiful children.

Damainion can be reached via his official website: http://www.godswriter.com.

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