Source: Patriot Post | VIEW ORIGINAL POST ==>
“You’re never going to amount to anything! You’re going to be just like your father!”
I was six years old. My mother, an alcoholic, had her own issues. Still, that’s hard to hear, over and over again. I was an identical twin, but I reminded my mom of my father. That label stuck with me for years. Nothing I seemed to accomplish could replace the fear that, sooner or later, I would be exposed as a loser.
My Marine Corps career, subsequent criminal investigation profession, and awards and accomplishments were simply efforts to paper over who I really was — who I had been labeled as years earlier. But then God, who sent His Son Jesus to die for my sins, revealed His love for me. I was trying to learn to accept myself as the person He saw, not as the person I saw in the mirror.
We went into ministry and began working with young adults bound by addictions. We saw success, and I was very careful not to take credit for what God was clearly doing. Still, it felt good to be a part of seeing radically changed lives for Christ. Subconsciously, I waited for the day of being exposed as a phony. It came way too soon.
One summer morning, I received a call from our women’s home; there had been a fire, but everyone was okay. It was an old mansion, so I assumed there had been an electrical fire. I dressed and drove toward the house, my mind on everything I needed to get done. I wasn’t prepared for the fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances around the home. The house was still burning.
I parked and ran across the street to where the women and staff were standing, watching the firemen working to put out the fire. I asked one of my staff, “What happened?” Steve looked at me and said, “Roger, Sandy is dead!” I was stunned as he repeated it. Sandy, one of our girls, was dead. I then saw her body by the rear of the house covered by a sheet.
The fire chief found me standing in front of the home watching my “dream” going up in smoke. He told me he thought the gas stove in the kitchen had killed the person they found inside. I felt like a sledgehammer struck me in the chest. It was my fault. I had asked a deli owner for his old gas stove.
As I stood there watching the effort to put out the fire, I heard someone behind me say, “You’re a failure. You will never do anything for the Kingdom of God!” I turned around to see who was talking, but no one was there. A shudder went down my spine. As tears streamed down my face, I silently prayed, “God, I really need to hear from you right now.” My prayer was answered that day. A friend called that morning, giving me this scripture:
“Persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down but not destroyed.” (II Corinthians 4:9)
The gas stove did not explode. Sandy, who had been rejected by her father too many times, gave into the lie “she was not loved” and took her own life, pouring gasoline over herself in our kitchen. Her death caused me to seek God like never before. As a result, He wrapped His arms of love and compassion around me and called me His son! We are only failures when we give up or walk away. How could I walk away from the only Father who loved me, accepted me, and made me his son?
We are living in a broken world. Addictions and other bondages, physical and emotional, have left millions feeling hopeless. They’ve never known the love of a father. No matter how much hurt or rejection you may have suffered, don’t give up. We are never without hope! There is a Heavenly Father who loves you unconditionally. He will never leave you! Just receive His love. Your life will never be the same.
Something to pray about!
Semper Fidelis
