Month: April 2019

It really wasn’t that long ago when I had nowhere to call my home. There may have been couches I could crash on, sure. Maybe for a night or two I could stay at a friend’s house (that I haven’t spoken to in years). Maybe they hadn’t heard who I have become yet. I definitely wore out my welcome with any family members. Everyone of them knew I was a thief and a master manipulator. They all knew the lifestyle I was living. In hindsight, I recognize that there was never a lack of love, and candidly I believe most of my family just couldn’t stomach watching me kill myself anymore so they waited and hoped and prayed.

My days were all the same. I’ve spent too much time in this blog describing what they looked like, but for the purpose of this short story I will offer you a snippet because it’s relevant to recap.

I want to share with you that during my last couple years of getting high, my son suffered. He went without. He lacked the guidance that he deserved. He missed out on attention. He was robbed of security. He was lonely. He was unsure. He felt betrayed. He felt unloved. He compared himself to other children…and he ended up feeling less-than. He was deprived of the lessons only a father can teach their son. He was moved from house to house. From family member to family member. He moved from school to school. He cried. He felt lost.

Meanwhile, I was out everyday trying to get heroin and cocaine. I was out robbing people. Boosting from stores. Hurting others. I hurt so many people. I was stealing everything. I was selling drugs (real and fake). I was picking up strangers for money. When it comes to ways drug addicted people get money, I did everything except prostitute myself. Everything.

I thought of my son often and the pain I was causing him. In fact, not a day went by that I didn’t think of him but I wasn’t able to do anything about it at the time. At least on my own I wasn’t and I was very convinced that I was on my own.

Those days were filled with the darkest, most destructive, demonic type of pain anyone can experience. There is a loneliness that is coupled with drug addiction and it’s something that for some is big enough to intentionally end it all. Canaan is the only reason I refrained.

Last week my son, wife, our friend Courtney and I went to tour a house that we were thinking of buying. I just want to say that again because honestly it’s just so surreal to me.

Last week my son, wife, our friend Courtney and I went to tour a house that we were thinking of buying. We went in together but I broke off from the group because I was completely overwhelmed with emotion. Lately my son has made a point to be attached to my hip anywhere we go. I love it so much. We go to the store, he walks next to me. We are at the mall, he’s right next to me. We are in a restaurant waiting to be sat, he’s in my ear burning through story after story. In any case, I’m walking through this house inspecting it. I am a very visual person. I think I see the world differently than most. I was seeing my kids playing in this house that was completely empty, but I could see them jumping on the bed. I saw them running down the hall. I heard them laughing. I saw my special needs pit bull, Pig chasing his tail frantically for absolutely NO REASON AT ALL CONSTANTLY. I watched my wife cooking. I smelled the food. My imagination is childlike sometimes and I hope I never lose that. So here comes Canaan catching up to me and we’re both in awe of the house.

He tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Hey Dad, you know what’s cool about this house?” And I said “What’s that?”

He looked me dead in my eyes and said:

“That Keegan won’t have to grow up like I did.”

Normally you would think that would be a crushing blow, but it wasn’t. I responded that yes, he was right, but I have tried my best to be a good father to him since he was 7 (he’s 17 and a half now) and he agreed.

Then we both stopped and I said “But I want you to stop and think about something. Think about the first 7 years of your life and think about those struggles, and think about who I was and my struggles.”

His face started to change.

Then I said “Now stop and think about the last 10 and a half years and the trajectory of both of our lives. Think about how different things are. Think about that everything we have is a result of me simply relying on God and being the type of man I think He wants me to be. We could buy this house today and it is solely based on that.”

His eyes filled up, so did mine…as they are right now while I’m typing this. God has the ability to change lives in ways that we just don’t know. I can promise you that when I made the decision to ask God for help, I wasn’t expecting a fraction of what He’s done. I shortchanged the shit out of God.

Jeremiah 29:11

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

When I was younger I was constantly curious and abnormally creative. My imagination was seemingly much larger than my peer’s. I was always questioned about it and encouraged to use it for my art. Eventually I opted to rely on my skill set rather than my imagination and I am happy about that as there has still never been a shortage of creativity in my life and my hand skill gets better every year that goes by.

There has been growth as a result of gained experience, influence from others, failures, dead ends, successes, addictions left behind and a relationship with God.

Yes, I believe God has gifted me something most don’t have. If you are offended or bored by that, stop reading now.

So, what’s my point? Why am I talking about my artistic talent, the progression of that and its connection to spiritual growth? Because the same factors that have polished my art have polished my life.

My spiritual condition is no exception.

When I was around 16 and a half years old I was severely addicted to heroin. I did it everyday. I did lots of drugs but heroin was the focus. I was living on my own and had no one to really stop me. I remember so many times that I would be in Baltimore looking around at my surroundings and how exciting it was. I watched the people. I admired them. They seemed so unconcerned with anything other than where they were heading. I would watch the cars fly by and embrace the wind from them. One thing about the city that has always touched me is how early in the morning it goes from very peaceful to extremely loud in a matter of minutes. I watched the birds flying above everything and thought about how desirable it would be to live free like that. It was beautiful. Then I would snap out of that and make very destructive decisions. I remember the danger involved in doing what I was doing and how that was almost as desired as the actual drug I was getting. I gained a lot of experience on how to handle myself in that way of life. I remember people showing me the ropes, the same ropes I would later show others. I remember getting threatened by people. I remember weapons drawn. I remember my car intentionally rammed by another car and the circular burn mark their tire left on my driver’s side door.  I remember my window getting kicked at a stop sign because “What the fuck you doing here, white boy?”  I remember being chased multiple times for many different reasons. I remember cops abusing me. I remember so many things. I remember escaping by the skin of my teeth countless times.

I remember avoiding death more times than any teenager should.

I remember priding myself with the idea that I was responsible for my own safety.

I remember an absence of God. I remember ego. 

Today it’s almost the opposite. I have been seeking God not out of pain (which has always been the catalyst in the past) but more out of curiosity. I think my creativity has shifted in me somehow and changed into open-mindedness. I have been revisiting the idea of God and who He is exclusively based on love fueled curiosity and imagination. I have been day dreaming of what it would be like to be even closer to God than I’ve been in the last 10 years. I used to think it was impossible to drift from my idea that I would never truly know who God is; only know He is real and it wouldn’t go any further than that.

I have been speaking with a friend of mine for almost two years about all things spiritual. About an old understanding of God with a fresh pair of glasses on and it has refueled an old flame. Not a flame that has dimmed, but a flame that deserves to be an enormous fire. The kind of fire that makes you shield your face with your inner arm simply from the heat. It’s exciting and just like I have grown my artistic skills after people told me I couldn’t get any better, I feel like I am growing my relationship with God in a way I never thought I could.