The Courage of Success

By C. Patrice Hagans

The Courage of Success is an autobiography of how you can overcome whatever life may throw at you because, with God, all things are possible. In every area of our lives, we must possess some level of courage to succeed, spiritually, relationally, financially, physically, and mentally. It takes courage to move beyond where you currently are. I take courage to step out onto uncharted waters in faith, which is always a risk; however, when you begin to shift your thinking, the ability to conquer anything comes. Obstacles may come to block your progress and all that God had promised you, but never give up! Resilience is the key to success.

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685262556

Book preview

A Lost Jewel

It was winter 1985, January to be exact. I was in first grade enjoying class time when one of my relatives showed up at my school, which seemed kind of odd. They also picked up my baby brother who was two years of age at the time, the youngest of the bunch. We arrived home only to find that there were people there we had never seen before along with the immediate family. I was wondering in my six-year-old mind what was going on. I was then told that my mother had died. My mother from what I remembered was a vibrant, beautiful, peaceful, loving, and extraordinarily talented woman. Surely, they could not be speaking of my mother. Maybe they meant to say that someone’s mother that I knew, but without any doubt, it was ours. She had been preparing breakfast for my dad and brother that morning when she got a little disoriented and missed the pan that she was cooking in. One of my older brothers noticed that something was not right and informed my dad what just happened. My dad had then rushed her to the hospital, not knowing that this would be the last time we would ever see her alive. She was the age of forty, a beautiful soul drifted away from an aneurism of the brain. She left behind a husband with seven children, that of five boys and two girls.

I recall bits and pieces of her funeral as she lay in her shiny pink casket, wearing a pink dress with a sheer overlay of pink chiffon, a corsage pinned to her dress. The choir began to sing as the church was silenced with tears of bereavement, and the family sat together in a band, comforting one another in our great loss. My baby brother still did not understand what was going on, so he asked my dad, Is Mommy sleeping? This question caused there to be even more overwhelming sorrow, and the reality finally hit that she was gone.

After all was over, weeks had passed, and decisions had to be made. Will all the family stay together, or will we be separated? My dad made the decision to keep all the children together. He did have the assistance of both grandmothers who would occasionally take the kids a few weekends and help to raise them, but he would never separate them to be raised by anyone else.

A Gift Stolen

A few months after my mother died, my dad felt like it was time to move on and that he now needed help with the kids. In June of the same year, he remarried. My stepmother was young and vibrant, and of course, she could raise kids, not really, but she had to start somewhere. There were many occasions where there was the opportunity to get to know her, but of course, as a young child, the thought was, She is not my mother. It took a while, but we began to respect her because this was what we were told to do.

A few weekends out of the year, we would visit with aunts, uncles, or even grandparents and sleep over with a few of our younger cousins. It was enjoyable, until I was at one of my aunt’s houses during the day napping on a palate in a back room with another little girl who was also staying for the weekend. One of my teenage male cousins came in and molested me while the other little girl was asleep; however, this was on more than one occasion. There were many times when I would wake up from sleeping through the night with my panties around my thighs not realizing what happened while I was asleep. On occasion, I would be awakened, and I would be alert enough to realize what was going on even though I did not understand. I did not really feel anything emotionally at the time; I was too young to understand that it was not my fault. Of course, I couldn’t tell my parents; surely, they wouldn’t believe me. They may think that I may have seduced him in some way, so instead of telling, I kept it to myself thinking that it would convince him to stop, but it only got worst. Times after that, he would bring me to his room, close the door, and strip naked in front of me, sharing his private part and telling me to touch his penis. Often when there was a group of us at my parents’ house, my parents not being there, he would follow me to the bathroom and perform oral sex on me. I did not know any better. I was only between the ages of seven and eight. He was even bold enough to ask me to open my legs while sitting at a dinner table with my family while he watched from a distance. I had gotten so used to doing that that I didn’t realize it until my dad told me to close my legs. One day, I got up enough courage to go to my parents and let them know what was going on. As I stood in their room and told them that he was touching me in ways that he should not be, the response days later was shocking. He continued for a while after that, but to this day, my parents never told my aunt or grandmother what happened. I was hurt and felt unprotected, even by my parents. I felt as though they did not love me, or they did not care. My stepmother’s response was that my grandmother would have said that I was lying. However, it no longer mattered. I felt betrayed even at the age of eight. If I have ever felt alone in the world, it was at this very moment; my parents had uncovered me and placed me in the hands of a pedophile. I promised myself from then on that I would never allow my children to share with me something so sensitive and do nothing about it as a parent.

After a few months, things began to change in that situation, and he no longer came around as he did before. When one of my older brothers found out what was going on, he was ready to beat him into a pulp. I knew then that this would be the person that I could trust to protect me in the years to come.

My stepmom was starting to get more settled in; and less than a year of being married, she had her first child, my little sister, and then two boys a few years later. It was an interesting journey, blending two families, but it would also be a challenge. Comparing me to her nieces and other girls my age was a new normal and sometimes a daily act. Not truly seeing myself as being good enough in whom God made me to be, I began to not care about my appearance. What good would it do? Clearly, I was not good enough anyway. I guess she failed to realize that I was only about eight or nine. What did I know about taking care of myself? My older sister had gotten married and moved out a few months before, and I was pretty much left in the hands of my stepmom. It was a bit difficult as a young child to take on someone else being your mother, but it was a learning experience. My dad worked a lot, and this is what he wanted to see in us. At times, it appears he did not love us, and he only wanted us for labor. Hasn’t he heard of child labor laws? I thought. Once, my brother and I were pulled out of school to clean the house, and after we were finished, we were dropped back off at school. We were angry for days, not understanding the reasoning behind it. Even though he made outsiders think that he was all about education, there was never really a push to do more in life as for going to college or fulfilling your dreams as an entrepreneur. I had already made up in my mind. When I am old enough to leave, I am out of here. This is not where I envision myself starting a family.

One day, my parents decided that it would be a good idea for me to stay with my paternal grandmother. Of course, I did not feel that it was a great idea at all. I would have rather been locked up in a padded room alone. I would’ve had a little more freedom than I did living with my grandmother, granted I loved my grandmother, but not living with her every day. Yet it was only for a season, and it was one of the longest seasons of my life. I was being micromanaged every moment that I lived with her. There were enjoyable times every now and again; however, the scary part was when my grandmother had gotten sick and had spells in connection with her diabetes. At first, I thought that it was very annoying, not knowing that she was sick and needed my help. Once I finally found out what was going on, we were able to get her the assistance she needed. That was one of the better reasons for me living with her so she would not be alone in those situations when she wasn’t conscious enough to know that she was going through these issues. Life has a way of working all things together for a purpose.

Puppy Love

My dad was a pastor, so unlike normal preachers’ kids, we were wise enough to think about the consequences before doing something crazy. As a young girl, just like any normal young lady, I became interested in boys. Once the young men found out who my dad was, there was an instant disinterest in me, and this had gone on for years.

As time went on, I started high school and began to get involved in extracurricular activities, and by this time, I was no longer living with my grandmother. I attempted to keep my grades up along with the activities; however, it became difficult to do both, so my parents told me that I could not do certain activities for a while. But one of the things that really bothered me was the fact that whatever activities I became a part of, they were never there to support me. I would participate in track, flag corps, and some other extracurricular activities. Going out to football games on Friday night and marching festivals on Saturdays was interesting. Eye candy all over the place! Which one would be more appealing? Thank God that no incidents happened with my interest in these young men.

Once in my early teens, I met a guy and thought that I was in love. This had to be it, right? We shared a long-distance relationship for over a year. Surely, he must love me; he made it a point to call me every weekend no matter where he was. Holidays were sweet, cards, money, or stuffed animals. But of course, I have always been taught that if a man gives you money, he is going to want something in return, since he is not paying for nothing. Our conversations had gotten serious to the point where he told me that we have his mother’s blessing if we were to get married. My thoughts were, I am only fifteen, and what do I know about being a wife? So I kind of brushed that out of sight and out of mind until one day, I tried to contact my boyfriend, but he never responded. He must really be busy not to return my call for days. Once I finally got in touch with him, I was informed that he had found another love interest. I guess that I was not moving fast enough in my actions or didn’t want to share with him my secret that was under lock and key only for my husband. When I finally spoke with him, he went on to say that he had married her a year later and that they had a kid together. We spoke after that; however, the conversation did not end on a good note. I was furious at the way he responded to the matter. I did not hear from him ever again. However, I realized that this added on to me being even bitterer toward men due to the rejection. I had a few guy friends, but never really wanted to get too close. Knowing that my dad was extremely strict, I was limited to my interaction with the opposite sex. I refused to go down that road again; it was not worth it. Yes, it was only one incident, yet it was a learning experience. This experience carved a place in my heart that I was not good enough to be loved; of course, I was young and had so much to learn. I would talk on the phone and maybe hang out at the most, but that was it. Who would have known that that one incident when I was younger would scar me for years? Guys would never have a chance with me; I thought, They may as well give up trying. It was so bad to the point where I would dream that a guy would touch me with one finger and I would upsettingly tell him, Do not touch me! Granted I did have a boyfriend, he had never gotten that close as to even hug me for a long period of time.

As time went on, I had gotten past this stage in my life; my parents took it upon themselves to have me step down from being in the band because they felt as though my grades were slipping. However, they did make it a point to put me into piano lessons. I learned to play by ear, since I could not do what I really wanted to do; I had to come up with a different activity that I enjoyed. Fortunately, with playing the piano, I did get more of the support I needed from my parents. I played for a few years but found during the process that it was short-lived.

Moving Forward

It was my senior year of high school. I did not do too well in one of the major courses in my junior year, and this in the end caused me to lag my senior year. So I took it upon myself in my senior year to complete a course alone in my teacher’s planning period. That was not a wise decision at all, because she informed me that she would do it, but she couldn’t give me the attention needed as though I was in the actual class. I failed miserably, and this was another disappointment added to my life. How could this be corrected? It could not. My siblings had even counted on me graduating with my class and took it upon themselves to reward me for it. On the night of my graduation, I could hear my high school graduation taking place a few miles away in our town. It was so compressed that we could hear the events from our backyard commencing. That night, I received a phone call from those who were rewarding me. I was already hurt by that fact that I felt like a failure. I would receive one phone call, and then the next telling me how stupid I was and how I could do this to them.

As I hung up the phone, I could feel layers of bricks being laid upon my heart. Clearly, I did not do this intentionally, but at that moment, it was all about them. I was crushed and felt like dying at that very moment. If I’d upset them that much, what was the purpose of living, let alone going to a place that I’m not wanted? What they did not realize was that I’ve contemplated suicide several times, and this was adding to the thought. My father came into my room that night and told me that he was very proud of me that I didn’t give up and that there are times when people don’t think that what they are saying is hurting you even more. Those words of encouragement literally caused a layer to be removed from my heavy heart. One of my older brothers also came in a little later and tried to comfort me, but the pain was so excruciating that I just cried myself to sleep. The next day, I did receive a phone call of apology from one of my relatives and asked me to still come and enjoy myself that summer. I did take a vacation for a month and afterward attended summer school to receive my diploma. I did not give up!

A year after finally graduating from high school, I felt the need for a change of scenery and get away. I was given the opportunity of getting out of the country—first, living in Albuquerque, New Mexico, for ten months and then Atlanta. I moved in with family, it was interesting, and I learned so much about family members that I did not know. I also had the awesome opportunity of spending time and getting to know my niece and nephews. What an adventure! Just a few months before, I was given the opportunity to watch real-life childbirth and become a nanny to my niece from the age of two months to nine months. Sleeping in her room, feeding her, bathing her, and taking on a live-in nanny role, which I do not take for granted, it was a beneficial learning experience. I never knew how much work is in caring for a child, but I was willing to wait until the right time to take that step.

After moving to the big city, I had the opportunity of meeting different people and being in surroundings that I was not used to. I thought to myself, This is going to be very different from the country. I ended up with a few people that were kind of considered the wrong crowd, but not to the extreme.

It was my twenty-first birthday, and I had gone out with a few women that I met when I first moved to Atlanta and began to work in a local grocery store. They took it upon themselves to take me out and show me what it was like to turn twenty-one. Of course, they knew that I was a Christian and that I did not drink or was not out there. So one of the young ladies picked me up for dinner to meet with the other ladies. We talked, laughed, and ate dinner. Finally, it was time for the gifts, and I already knew that some of the gifts would not be able to be pulled out of the bag. Some were genuinely nice, until I got to that gift bag, full of garbage! I felt that it was very insulting. The bag contained a Playgirl magazine, a wine cooler, and a condom. What was I supposed to do with this? I do not drink, I am not into pornography, nor did I have a man and was not going to be sexually active outside of marriage! And, furthermore, if I did have a man, he would need to be my husband, not just any man. It put me in a place of recognizing that this was not who I was or who I would want to become, so slowly I drifted from this group of women. It was only by the grace of God that I could slip out of those relationships peacefully.

I also recalled a time when God’s protecting hands covered me, and I did not truly realize it until years later. I was working at a retail store almost twenty minutes away. One night, I decided to take a back road, which was normally resulted in a quicker arrival. Well, on this night, while driving my dark gray 1987 Cutlass Ciera, I was quickly reminded that I should not have taken this route. Only a few miles from my destination, my car broke down in a dark residential area, where the nearest streetlight was a few feet away, but not close enough for a speed racing car to come around the corner to recognize that I was sitting there before they possibly crashed into me. As I sat there wondering how I was going to get out of this one, I began to pray and ask God for protection and to send an angel. Almost ten minutes later, a truck driver noticed my car and that there was someone in the vehicle. He stopped and helped to push my car to a safer area away from oncoming traffic. He asked me where I was headed and if I needed a lift, and I informed him that I was on my way to work at the retail store around the corner, so he agreed to drop me off. On the way to the store, he mentioned that his niece also worked at the same store. He then dropped me off for a safe delivery. Looking back, I was so grateful to God for His protection, because anything could have happened to me that night on that dark road, and the truck driver was the only person who saw me that night. Wow! The thought never crossed my mind that I could have been raped, held hostage, or even worse killed. But God had His angels surround me that night at that moment.

As time passed, I began to get more involved in church. And going through years of others’ approval, if I did not do things a certain way or think a certain way, I wouldn’t be accepted. I began to take classes and enroll in school because others thought that is what I should be doing. I joined a local church and got involved in it while staying with my family. After a year of staying at their current location, my family decided that they wanted a change of scenery; however, I seemed to have liked the area that I was currently in, so I was in search of my very first apartment, though there was no way that I could afford an apartment. I didn’t have enough in savings for that. So, upon getting more involved in my local church, I was referred to a member that was renting a room in her home. I went over to look at the home and went through a short interview. It seemed nice and cozy, and the roommates appeared to be very friendly. So I decided to move in, and a few weeks later, I was out on my own away from family. Wow! This was a big step for me.

One of my roommates was courting, so we kind of already knew that she would be married soon. Less than a year later, she was moving out prior to being married, so my current roommate and I made plans to change her former bedroom into a study hall or craft room. It looks as if everything was changing smoothly, until one day I arrived home after church, and my roommate requested to talk to me about something. As I sat there, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She mentioned to me that when I first moved in, she was overcharging me for rent just so she could have extra money in her pocket, and she didn’t feel guilty about it either. She went on to say that she needed me to leave by the end of the week because she was getting ready to sell the house. After the conversation, she then left and went upstairs. I sat there astounded at what she had just shared with me, and I was hurt again. I sat there thinking, What did I do to deserve this? I could not think of what I had done. As I sat there crying, I felt betrayed, used, neglected, and of course rejected.

The next day at work, I received a phone call from my roommate requesting that I disregard what she’d said the night before, but the day after, I received another phone call requesting that move out by the end of the week and that she was to the point of physically hurting me. I became confused and had no idea how to respond to that comment, so once I got home, the cycle started again to disregard it. It was clear that she was showing symptoms of being bipolar. It was time for me to move on, but where? I had nowhere to go, so another young lady decided that I could stay with her for as long as I needed to. Well, that did not pan out too well after some of her personal items came up missing. She soon did the same thing; she needed her space. Around the same time she had made this decision, I had gotten laid off yet approved for an apartment all at the same time. I was confused, rejected, and hurt once again. I spoke to a family member who offered me to come live with them, but my heart was so heavy that I did not have an answer for them. They began to share my pain and assured me that it will be okay. There was a part of my heart that was beginning to allow me to see that even the people in the church will turn their backs on you, but I couldn’t allow this to fog my view of who God was to me.

One of my former coworkers at the time reminded me that I was lacking faith because my plan was to get away from everything and everybody. She asked me, Who is your faith in? My thoughts were, Who are you to ask me who is my faith in? She then told me that I was giving up too easily on life and that I need to give it another try. I have been approved for the apartment, which was the hard part. I took her advice and took that leap of faith and then moved on to searching for new employment.

My First Apartment

My first apartment was an interesting adventure. One of my good friends decided to have a housewarming for me. She sent out invitations and prepared the food and everything required to put together a wonderful event. I just knew that it would be wonderful. A few people even called me to confirm the time and location of the event. The day had come for the housewarming, and two people besides my hostess showed up. I had received a phone call earlier that day that a couple of others were also coming, but they never showed up. I was heartbroken. Is there something that I did wrong? With so many disappointments, I held back the tears long enough for my guest to leave. I was done with people. I will never be able to understand why my life was turning out the way it did.

One of my siblings attended the gathering, and they could see that my countenance had fallen due to what was going on. They then shared with me not to be discouraged from this. I heard them; however, I was not listening at the time. The heaviness of my heart became louder than the encouragement. After everyone had left for the night, I sat crying and confused. More disappointment was being added to my heart’s record, and faith in people was diminishing.

As the days had gone by, I still was not able to find employment, so I started applying wherever there was an opportunity. I had not only rent to pay but also a car note to keep up with. I ended up working a full-time and part-time job while braiding hair on the weekend to make ends meet. But I soon found that the only thing that I was gaining from it all was not enough rest. Even major holidays would be a time of rest for me. I was too tired to celebrate. Although I was working several jobs, I was still struggling with my finances. How could this be? Shouldn’t I have more than enough to work with? Not quite. It had gotten so bad that I would cash my savings bonds to have money to put gas in the car. This could not be explained, because I was working a full-time and part-time job and doing hair almost every weekend, but the struggle was getting more and more intense. Surely this cannot be my life. I had come up with an idea despite my struggle to do something better, or so I thought. Maybe I could start a business doing weddings. And I considered that. I spoke with a friend at the time, and she told me that I was dreaming and that I may as well hang up that dream. I thought to myself, What a dream crusher! I will never share another dream with her. This made me realize that those who are too afraid to move forward with their dreams will stomp yours.

Over time, I became more involved in my church and got to know more people. My brother even decided to move in with me, which was an adventure. We had our ups and downs, but we realized that it was all a part of being a family. We had stayed at the current residence for a few more months and decided to move to a larger location. We found a townhouse for rent that was convenient for both of us. We had gatherings with friends, parties, and visitations from family.

One morning, my brother and I decided to go to the gym at 5:00 a.m. We had gone to the door, but it would not come open. It only turned around and around. So my brother went through the patio door to come around and open it. We made our way to the gym, and once we had gotten down the side street that we normally take, there was a terrible accident. The street was backed up and there were flashing lights everywhere. God had spared our lives that morning. He just wanted us to wait a moment!

In the Hours of Darkness

There was a season in my life when everything seemed dark, but I never noticed the darkness. Bitterness was rooted in unforgiveness, jealousy, and anger. In addition to these things taking root in my life were food allergies, skin diseases, and weight gain. People would begin to look at me as though I needed to be quarantined, or some even thought that I was pregnant or just gave birth from the heaviness of my midsection. To me, it was the norm; surely there was nothing wrong with me. Surely, I knew that I needed to take care of these things, but it could not be any different from anyone else dealing with the same situations. Friends that surrounded me were acting as though I was okay and never mentioned anything; however, the dreams that I would dream in these seasons would say otherwise. When the Lord speaks, we should move into a new direction in life. He never does it to harm us, but to bring us to a place that we are useful to the kingdom of God and that we will not have to lift our eyes up at the gates of hell.

As time went on, I had not realized how much my past hurts—anger, jealousies, resentment, unforgiveness, and bitterness—had built up in my spirit. I would see close friends with significant others all the time, from one person to the next. I was thinking what was wrong with me. Of course, I would be interested in guys, but they would not be interested in me. I was either not educated enough, too dark, or too thick for them to handle. I would never understand. Were we talking or is it a job interview?

I tried for so long to hide it, yet sometimes I was embarrassed in the process because some guys would make it a family joke that the plus-sized black girl was interested in them, rather than letting me know that they weren’t interested, or took it upon themselves to make up a lie that they did not have time for a relationship when all along they were currently seeing someone else. On more than one occasion, they would even hide from me just so I would not know that they were in the room. My thoughts were, Wow, if this is what I must look forward to, I will just remain bitter and single.

At one point, I thought that my healing was completed, and surely, I was ready for a relationship. I was on a networking Web site one day, and a guy sent me a message, inquiring about his interest in me. I was astounded that someone located me and was bold enough to express their interest. Well, after going along with this so-called relationship for almost a month and a half, it was revealed to me through dreams that this was a trap set up by the enemy. The potential prospect turned out to be a scam artist, and I was one of his prey. How could this happen? In my desperation of desiring a relationship, the devil did whatever he could in my moment of vulnerability. Was I so mesmerized by his words that I could not see this coming? The con artist had given me a sob story after communicating with him for over a month that he needed financial assistance, and yes, I did send a little financial assistance; however, if it wasn’t for God, it would’ve been much worse. Once I found out that he was a scam artist, all hell broke loose; he was getting ready to be exposed for the criminal that he was. I knew right then that I was not completely healed and that this never would’ve happened if my eyes were completely opened to the truth. I even recalled attending a midweek service around the time all this craziness broke loose. The pastor stated in his message, All of the red flags were there, and it wasn’t that I wasn’t hearing from God. It was mainly because I was impatient. I can see that God would show me in a dream, but instead of me asking for an interpretation of the dream, I try to interpret it myself. He had shown me several times that this was a stop sign being revealed through my dreams.

A few months after this incident, I was out shopping and minding my own business. A guy approached me and was very polite and asked if he could get to know me. I politely said, No, thank you. Of course, after leaving the store, my emotions had gotten in the way, and I felt awfully bad for saying no, and he was being such a gentleman for approaching me in the manner that he did. But the major turn off for me was that I was by no means attracted to this guy. I spoke to the Lord that day and reminded the Lord that I cannot wake up to just anything. Surely, he just wanted to get to know me and not marry me, right? Well, the next day, having been led by my emotions, I went back to the store and located the guy and apologized for my behavior the day before. I gave him my number and gave him permission to give me a call sometime. What was I thinking?? I began to receive phone calls and text messages from this interesting guy, but I was not impressed at all. One day while at work, I received a text message stating that he knows what he wants, and it was me. After only a few days of speaking to him and never over the phone, this guy boldly stated that he wanted to marry me. What! You just met me, and you sound like a psycho! He had even gone on to quote scripture, Faith without works is dead! I’m putting my faith to work. Don’t quote scriptures to me to fit into this mess, was what I wanted to say. My thoughts were, There must be some mistake. What did I do to deserve this? I felt at that moment that God was punishing me. I was by no means attracted to this guy, and he was not attractive at all. He said that he was in his twenties, yet he looked like he was in his sixties. I had even mentioned it to my brother, and he had gone on to say, Do you think that God is punishing you? My response was, Definitely! He thought that it was funny.

I was reassured later that week that God was not punishing me. I attended church service that week, and the pastor reminded us that God will never give us someone that we do not want or not attracted to. He’s our heavenly Father, and He already knows the desires of our heart. He had gone on to say that we should never feel as though we are being punished by God either. He also reminded us that every good, every perfect, and every acceptable gift comes from God. When God says that it is good, it is great, and when God says it’s perfect, it’s perfect for us, and the gift will be acceptable to us. I had a lot of growing up to do spiritually, but God was right there walking with me and holding my hand through the process. So, during our final conversation, he asked me why I would leave a church that I had been attending for eleven years and how he thought that this could not have been God telling me to leave. I sat there and said, Lord, you are going to have to get me out of this one. I am not attracted to him by any means, nor do I want to continue to speak with him. Suddenly, my brother called me and kept trying to get through for the next five minutes. I apologized that I had to go and mentioned that my brother has been trying to contact me in an urgent manner. I praised God for releasing me from this trap, never to look back again.

Prior to this situation, I was attending small groups and prayer groups thinking that there was nothing wrong with me, that it’s them, and that they have personal issues. Once while attending a small group session, the leader prayed over me and my walk to be obedient to God’s will. Of course, I had no idea what was truly going on or what the prayer was about, let alone what His will for my life was at the time. While attending a few prayer meetings, a minister came to me on two separate occasions and informed me that it was time to get rid of my bitterness, anger, and unforgiveness. I’m thinking in my mind, What am I still holding on to? It’s them Lord, not me. I was in denial of what was going on in my own heart. I had gotten to the point where I was immune to the person I had become. The minister had gone on to pray over me in the second meeting, but this time, it was very intense. She had gone on to say that she saw chains of those things holding me in bondage and that it was time to release them. It was time to ask Jesus to set me free completely. For the next hour, intense deliverance was taking place, screaming at the top of my lungs for Jesus to personally save me from the rebellious life I currently lived. She even told me that there are people that need me, but I had to get free first. It is difficult letting go of something that you already felt you were free from, but it is also hard to hide it from others, let alone God. I felt freer than I’ve felt before in my life after that, but surely it is a process. It doesn’t happen overnight, and this was only the beginning.

Once I was working as a mailroom specialist with a corporate office of a formal wear company. We had daily pickups and deliveries from one of the major parcel services. The delivery driver informed me that I was so bitter and short-tempered with him on several occasions in the beginning stages of my employment to the point that he was going to request that his route be changed immediately. I was in shock; surely, he couldn’t be talking about me. He went on to say that I’ve changed to be so much better and that he didn’t follow through with it. I was in awe of what he was saying and mentioned it to a coworker. The coworker suggested that I ask a close male friend that I’ve known for years. I was taken aback even more by his response. He said, Yes, you were very bitter, and there were even times when I would say something and you would snap instantly, then turn around, and say that you were just kidding. But then after laying it all out, he turned around and said that he forgave me. I didn’t realize how much I truly hurt others. The statement is so true that hurting people hurt people. I apologize to him and then called my father and apologized for hurting him with my words a month prior. It was revealed to me at that very moment that it’s time for a change because I can’t live like this. If I continue this path, this is only going to lead to my destruction, lifting my eyes up to receive a one-way ticket to hell. I began to understand why I was still single—God couldn’t allow another person to be married to me. They would be so miserable being married to me, and I would either run them off or chew them up and spit them out. He had some serious work to do in me. There was even a time when I decided to lead a small group, and we’d started with twelve people. Wow,