Please feel free to leave comments or suggestions

Thursday, February 17, 2011

What I learned from my father

Here is a nugget I found from the past.  It was written a few years ago and is unfininshed but I felt I should post the original up as it stands on it's own with out the closing.  Enjoy!
.
.
.
At the age of eleven I started working summers with my father. Mostly I scrubbed mats, tires and washed cars but it was work and I was paid for it like any other laborer. It was the worst of times in South Louisiana and this was the bottom for the economy. That environment would shape who I would become decades later but more so It would shape the man my father would become to me. Every morning my father woke up very early, made his coffee and sat down to read his bible and promise book then pray. One morning I awoke to hear his low crying, something was different. His prayer that day will always stick with me: “Lord, If I am going down, I’m going down on your word”. I was never the same after that day. God did arrive, at the last second in a way no one would have dreamt. A phone call from my Uncle, His brother, with the long term answer to his problem. I do not have a problem with believing God can rescue me. I have seen first hand what God can do and My father was willing to hold on when all seemed lost. It took many years to dig his way out but God is faithful and the family made it.




Lesson 1: Never let go of God, ever.



Around the age of 12 to 13 I had my loss of mental cohesion phase, AKA Stupid. I got into trouble twice in a few month period and my father dealt with it differently the second time than he did the first time. For six months I managed to weave a story of why I never had homework. It was a good story, very believable. All lies. The most important rule of lying is to never let the people you are lying about ever speak to the people who you are lying to. This is Paramount, failure to do this will result in pain. Trust me on this one. My teacher, tired of me never having my homework decided to drag me to the office and call my parents. My father picked up the phone and my life as a homework free biped with the ability to walk without a limp was over. My poor teacher tried to smooth it over but she had opened Pandora’s box and all types of evil were about to ensue amongst my rear end and anything that got in the way. I know what inmates being walked to the electric chair feel like. That was the longest walk from the bus stop of my life. There is a difference between a beating and a spanking. Spanking involves metered swats and explaining to the child what he did wrong. It is kind of like having tea with a side of stinking backside. Beatings involve the child fully knowing what they did was wrong and the wrath of Daddy is about to be poured out. More of a angel open the scroll, water turns to blood and you are praying for the rapture or death to come now. The rapture did not occur. Death did not embrace me for the fear of getting hit with that belt. THE BELT. A steel belt from a tire wrapped in leather from an ancient brahma bull that was harvested at the full moon on the 3rd day. Indestructible justice. I paid the price for my sins that day and I deserved it and more but he had to go back outside and finish working.

Lesson 2: Be careful what you plant because the harvest you get may not be what you wanted.



The second Time I got in trouble involved the Police. I knew I was not going to be found when he was done. My Mother came and got me from the Police station because I assumed he didn’t want any witnesses for this slaughter that was to be the end of my short life. I got out the car and walked towards the house but He looked up and I caught the look in his eyes. It wasn’t anger or rage. It was total disappointment. I wish he would have beat me ten times for what I did that day. He never spoke of it to me but the look in his eyes broke the stupidity off my life. I had hurt him so deeply and It had never occurred to me that I was hurting him. Deep down I still think that beating is coming. He just hasn’t found a belt with sharp enough spikes yet.



Lesson 3: There are things worse than physical pain.



These are the three principles that laid the foundation for the real lessons in my life.

.

5 comments:

  1. That was GREAT Jeremy!!! Your stories and the manner of their delivery always crack me up. You will have to clue me in about the police incedent,I am most curious.

    ReplyDelete
  2. P.S. This is Kelli

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thank You, Feel free to explore the rest of the writing on the site.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Really enjoyed your article.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I liked this. Thankfully I never got into enough trouble to elicit the "beating". :)

    ReplyDelete