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A Prisoner’s Point of Grace

I have lived a life of hardship, leading up to a point of grace, which changed my life forever.

My childhood home was not any thing like a Christian home. My father was hardly ever around until he left for good on my eighth Christmas, but my problems started long before this.

When I was a young boy, only four years old, a teen age boy whom I looked up to raped me. His threats evoked a spirit of fear within me so that I could no t tell anyone what happened. This secrecy led to a long series of rapes and sexual exploits by him and his friends. Later some men who frequented my mother’s wild parties in our home found out about those exploits, and they too began to force themselves on me.

ONGOING ABUSE

One night, my mother walked in while this was happening, and I thought that surely I was saved. Instead , she placed the blame on me and beat me severely. My mother’s reaction destroyed me, and I lost all sense of hope. Instead of putting a stop to the abuse, my mother saw an opportunity for enterprise. She began to charge a fee for men to come and have their way with me. With my mother’s endorsement behind them, my abusers became even more forceful.

As I grew older, I began to rebel against my mother and my abusers, which resulted in more severe beatings. So at age six, I attempted my first escape . I left home one Saturday night not knowing where I was going. I wandered around until morning when I found a church and entered a Sunday school class. I was intrigued by the love the church people showed each other and me. But my mother was waiting outside the church when the meeting was over.

A WAY OUT

I tried to run away many other times but never succeeded. Finally, when I was 13, I was strong enough, wise enough, and determined enough to get out of town, not knowing or caring where I was going. I wound up sleeping in an abandoned van under Union Street Bridge in Nashville, Tennessee—200 miles away from my Appalachian Mountain home. To survive, I learned the ways of the streets while at the same time became hardened and bitter. I could not trust anyone and showed no emotion, for emotion could be taken as a sign of weakness. I was consumed with anger toward God, often thinking, “How could He allow these things to happen to me, a child?”

Out of these shambles, I tried to build a life for myself. I became engaged at age 16, lived with my fiancée for three years, and got married at age 19. My daughter was born shortly thereafter. I desperately wanted to bury memories of my past experiences in hope they would go away for good. But old fears and abandonment issues resurfaced often, and I struggled with depression. I wasn’t able to share with my wife the reasons for my depression. I kept telling her, “It’s not you; it’s me. I have to find myself.”

We decided having another child might strengthen our marriage, so my son was born when I was 24. However, over time my depression grew worse. I sought help by attending “spiritual workshops” and “inner child” meetings. I went to palm readers and psychics, trying to lift the curse from my life. I also began to use all sorts of drugs, thinking if I couldn’t heal the wound, I would at least mask the pain.

I felt totally shut off from my wife because I couldn’t bring myself to voice the traumas of my childhood to her. I bottled the memories of childhood abuse up inside, and that led me down a path of destruction.

A VOID TO FILL

At age 31, I left my wife for good, and obtained a divorce. Shortly after that, I experienced a complete mental breakdown, attempted suicide, and ended up in a mental hospital. At this point, I realized that I could not take care of my children, who had been living with me, so I sent them to live with their mother. Perhaps the freedom from responsibility for my wife and children plus my total loss of hope led to increased drug use and carelessness once I was released from the mental hospital. I was searching for something, anything to gain some sense of control in my life, some sense of spirituality. So I began to study witchcraft.

Witchcraft led me to even more serious drug use and risky behavior. This behavior landed me in prison. In prison, I had time to re-evaluate my life. I realized that all I had worked for was gone—my wife, my children, my home, cars, and business; it was all gone. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the witchcraft I had turned to in order to find power and meaning in life had instead made my life worse. I was empty inside, spiritually void. I didn’t know where to turn, and once again I contemplated taking my life.

A NEW LIFE

However, in prison, I met a volunteer chaplain who asked me a question that changed my life completely. He asked me simply, “Son, just what is it that you are holding on to that is keeping you from serving the Lord?” Of course, the answer was, “Absolutely nothing.” It was all gone.

This question worked on me hard, and that night in my cell, I began to call out to God, “Lord, I’ve tried living life my way and this is where it’s got me. I’ve made a mess out of my life, but God, if You will help me and ease my pain, I’ll give You what’s left of my life.” The words of a Bible verse came to my mind, “Come to me all you that labor and I will give you rest.” I needed that rest. I had carried pain around with me all my life, and I couldn’t do it anymore. I prayed, “Please help me, God!”

My prayer was not a particular “sinner’s prayer,” but it was from the depth of my soul. I was real with God. And I didn’t quit praying until I got relief. The sweet peace of God flooded my soul that night, and I haven’t been the same since. The Bible says I became a new creation, and I believe it’s true. God gave me a desire to learn His Word, to pray, and to seek His face. And He put a new song in my heart.

WALKING VICTORIOUSLY

In truth, I’ve had some struggles with forgiving all those people who hurt me as a child. My mother is deceased now, and that made it even harder to forgive her, but God has coached me through the whole process. I have learned that forgiveness isn’t about them; it’s about me and getting release and relief for my own soul. Once I let go of the hatred, my relationship with God rose to a whole new level.

God took away my sense of abandonment and assured me, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” He took my fear and cast it out by His perfect love. He took my suicidal thoughts and gave me a new life and a desire to live it. He took my loneliness and gave me a new family of Christian brothers and sisters who love me.

Now every day for me is not just a challenge but a beautiful opportunity to live the victorious life found in the Lord Jesus. He has helped me overcome, and I will glorify Him forever.

Paul Hatfield is an inmate in a prison in Nashville, TN. He is currently working on a book expounding on his life story

Article Link: http://ccmusa.org/read/read.aspx?id=chg20070203
To reuse online, please credit Challenger, Apr-Jun 2007. CCMUSA.