My mother was once engaged to a man in the military. At the time of the engagement he was stationed in Kentucky while my mother lived in Indiana, just a few hours away. It was Valentines Day weekend and they had made big plans to spend the weekend together in my hometown of Columbus. But due to military duties he had to cancel. My mother became quite upset but soon felt something come over her, telling her to just go down to Kentucky and visit him. So she did. And when she got there she found her fianc頷as living with another woman who had already had children of her own. My mother was shocked and left Kentucky to never talk, see or hear from the man again.

My mother, being distraught, hopeless and thirty-two, gave up on all hopes of getting married. Her state of depression led her to the bars where she began to drink alcohol and eventually date my dad. Their relationship began and was based solely on sex. I believe after only a few weeks, my mother gave up on my dad because he constantly talked about his ex-girlfriend. After a month or so, my mother found out she was pregnant with twins (my brother Travis and I). Knowing that my father had already had several children of his own and that he was not the most stable of men, she decided not to pursue any support from or relationship with my dad. She did send him a letter about her pregnancy saying he could have a role in her children's lives if he wanted to. But he never wrote back.

So my mother, who had been living in her parent's house, decided to have her children and raise them on her own. We grew up in our grandparent's house along with my mother. My grandparents had just gotten rid of their one daughter and her son who had been living with them. But now they had to live and put up with two more children. This brought great resentment from my grandparents. Because my mother had to constantly work to support us, we were often times left in the supervision of our grandparents. Not wanting us in the house, they would send us outside and tell us not to come back until dinner time. My grandparents thought the worst of us. I remember my grandmother would often times call us the devil. My grandfather once got so mad at me he picked me up by my legs, swung me around the room and knocked my head upside a coffee table. Not only did I catch wrath from my grandparents, but I also caught it from my mother when she got home.

My mother felt enslaved and entrapped living in her parents? house. My grandfather was a navy man who fought in three wars. Because of this he was almost fully deft. All day long he would turn the television as loud as it could go. If he ever talked, he would scream. My mother could never get any peace and quiet at home. The one place where she supposedly could escape to or find refuge in was the one place that brought the most stress into her life. So if we ever made my grandfather yell, she would discipline us. And by that I mean spank us.

I remember one time my brother and I was in the bathtub together taking a bath. We were laughing real loud and making a mess in the bathroom. Just being little kids. My grandfather got to yelling so loud from downstairs that my mother ran in the bathroom with her belt and began beating us. She couldn't see what she was hitting. Our legs were high in the air trying to protect our bodies. Our arms were stretched out trying to catch and grab the belt. My brother and I were real close back then too because I remember us trying to cover one another with our bodies to protect us from being hurt.

My mother only heard us crying when she was done. I believe she was doing some crying of her own. My brother and I used to always cry really loud and hard after we were spanked to make her feel as if we were really hurt and really sorry (although we usually were neither). She didn't know it until I got out of the bathtub but I showed her the redness of my private parts where she ended up hitting me several times. I remember her breaking down and crying even harder. She told me how much she loved me and how much she was sorry. Although I was really hurt, I remember that I immediately forgave her. Even though there were no scars left on my body from those blows, there were scars left on my heart from experiencing such an environment filled with pain, suffering, hatred and despair.

My brother was my best friend and we were always together. We would throw the baseball back and forth both inside and outside the house, ride our skateboards up and down the block, take a blanket and turn it into a karate mat, and basically do anything just to have fun. It wasn't until first grade when we began to have other friends. The first week of elementary school we met other boys who lived in our neighborhood. We began to go over to their houses to play in their yards and driveways. We began to expand our territory in the neighborhood and venture into parts that we had never been to or were allowed to go before. Not only were we seeing new parts of the neighborhood, but we were seeing new things that we had never known existed.

One day we were sitting in the living room of my friend's house after school. We were watching television or playing a game or doing something at the time. Then, out of nowhere, I witnessed something I had never seen before in my life. My friend's father opened up the front door and walked into the house. My friend and his sister immediately ran to the door to greet their father. Then my friend's mother came to hug and kiss him. The sight was so amazing and so extraordinary that I thought I was in a movie. In fact I swore to my friend that his father was a movie star, someone I had seen before on a movie or maybe in my dreams. I could not comprehend what his father was, what his role was or what he actually did. I had never actually come into contact with a real father before. I remember he went into his room, changed clothes and began to play basketball with us. He was so good, so graceful, so kind, and so gentle. Man, why did I not have someone like this in my life? Is this what I have been missing?

Later that day I remember going to my mother's room late in the evening. I would always venture into her room late at night when I couldn't sleep or just wanted to stay up a little while longer. I would often times sit on her lap or in front of her and she would gently brush her fingers up and down my back, tickling me until she felt nothing but goosebumps. I always loved it when she tickled me. It would sooth my soul and ease all my tension.

But this night was different. I didn't need my soul soothed. I didn't need my tension eased. I needed a father. I remember sitting on my mother's lap and just crying my heart out asking, "Why don't I have a father? She then said, "I didn't know you wanted a father." And I then said, "I never knew what a father was." We cried for hours. My mother would often times start laughing to get me to cheer up. I believe she did this to stop herself from crying as well. But once I stopped crying, I felt no more pain. I felt no more sorrow. I felt no more longing or yearning. I had cried my heart to the heavens, and my Father heard me.

Growing up without knowing my dad fulfilled a great purpose. It made me the person that I am today. Even though I faced grave struggles and obstacles of growing up poor without paternal guidance, it actually made me stronger. We must realize that God knows us before we are created. He knows our parents, community, situation, environment, and all things that He creates us in and that we will go through in our childhood. He gives birth to us in that specific situation and in that particular environment so that He can mold our hearts to love Him.

Although I have never met my dad, I can now say that I know my Father. He saved my life and brought me out of a world of sin. He resurrected me and made me reborn of the spirit. I am now a part of God's family.

This story is living proof that God can use all bad things for good. His will is greater than our own. It is proof that we all have a great purpose in this world and that we are no mistake. I know it is true because my mother's fiance was sterile and could not have children. That something that told her to go visit him was my Father, the Lord Jesus Christ.

God Bless

Happy Father's Day!!!