Surviving the Hell

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS...........................................................viiINTRODUCTION...............................................................ixCHAPTER 1 SURVIVING SOUTHEAST WASHINGTON DC................................1CHAPTER 2 THE SPIRIT IS REAL AND HE SPEAKS.................................9CHAPTER 3 WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE?.........................................15CHAPTER 4 HEARING THE CALL.................................................19CHAPTER 5 SURVIVING A BROKEN MARRIAGE......................................23CHAPTER 6 SURVIVING THE HELL, EVEN IN THE CHURCH...........................28CHAPTER 7 DOORS CAN OPEN WHILE HELL IS RAGING..............................33CHAPTER 8 GOD'S DIVINE PURPOSE IN YOUR HELL EXPERIENCE.....................37CHAPTER 9 DON'T LET YOUR HELL MAKE YOU BITTER..............................40CHAPTER 10 YOU CAN GO THROUGH HELL AND SURVIVE.............................43ABOUT THE AUTHOR...........................................................47

Chapter One

Hell is defined as the eternal place of torment, reserved for Satan and all of his angels and those who refuse the Lord Jesus. Other resources, however, state that hell also is any place of pain or turmoil and the cause of difficulty and suffering. This definition is not to be compared to the scriptural definition of hell (eternal punishment), but there is a level of pain, turmoil, difficulty, and suffering that individuals deal with here on earth. Hell on earth refers to the situations that we encounter that cause emotional and sometimes even physical suffering.

You can't escape or get out of the hell until God's purpose is fulfilled. Rest assured that we all experience hell on earth, regardless of our culture, financial status, or social status. Hell will find us, and no one is exempt. It is important for parents to know that they can raise well-rounded and productive children, even if they are not fortunate to raise their children in a well-to-do community.

Some may conclude that living in Washington DC in the '60s wasn't that bad, but there were some unseen dangers of which I wasn't aware until later in life, and some dangers I did see as a child.

The projects were low-income housing that provided affordable rental property for low-income families. I could not say that the housing was for African Americans only because our next-door neighbors were Caucasian. I recall very clearly on one side of our street were apartments and on the other side were attached row houses with an upstairs. Southeast Projects, where I lived, carried a reputation of being a rough area of the city, and to this day if you mention Southeast to some people, you usually will get some type of reaction about its being the roughest part of the city. Low income wasn't the only problem in Southeast; there were other challenges as well, such as drugs, crime, and even killings from time to time.

I clearly remember late one night when a DC transit bus drove through our neighborhood, and we received a knock on the door that awakened our entire house. It was a bus driver, saying he had been robbed and beaten. My mother phoned the police, and we watched out the window at the driver until the police arrived to ensure he was safe.

I also remember the presence of drugs, alcohol, and teenage pregnancy in the projects. In those days, becoming pregnant before marriage was frowned upon. I recall one teenager girl in our neighborhood who moved suddenly to live with other family members in the South. We were told later that she was sent away because she was pregnant. What has happened to the shame of sin in our communities and churches? It seems that sin is being normalized and sometimes even celebrated and flaunted. What has happened to our convictions when we find ourselves acting with hell-like behaviors? Please understand that I don't feel we should judge or condemn people. We should meet them where they are and love them.

My mother didn't play. She was very strict when it came to our safety and the choices we might make that could damage our lives. We were well aware that she would not tolerate any of the above issues. My mother's parenting style was so effective that it made the boundary lines very clear, and I'm not sure exactly what she would have done if any one of us crossed those lines with her knowledge—and I think we all didn't want to find out.

Realistically, for me, growing up in the projects was not as bad as some might have experienced. I have precious memories of our community being close-knit during an era when you knew your neighbors next door, across the street, and even around the corner. What I mean by a close-knit community is that when one suffered, we all suffered together. Food was an issue for most of us in the community—having second helpings at dinner was not an option. Sometimes, the entire meal consisted of a bowl of lima beans.

My mother worked at the local elementary school and at the end of her workday, she would bring home the leftover lunches for us and others in our community. My brother and I used our red wagon to deliver those leftover lunches to those neighbors my mother thought could use a helping hand. Other neighbors did the same whenever they had extra—they would share with us and others in our community. Today, I am not proud to say that in my current neighborhood, where I have lived for the past five years, I know possibly three of my neighbors.

One morning when I was a child, there was a lot of uproar on our street and many of the neighbors gathered outside to find out what had happened. There had been an altercation between a married couple, and the wife had stabbed her husband. He made it out of the house and collapsed in a field across the street, where he died. This couple had five children, and I often played with two of the sons from this family. Our mothers would often visit each other in their homes. The family seemed like a normal family. It took a while before things were back to normal, but this family remained in the community for years, and the community supported them through that hell. Eventually, we all played together again like nothing had ever happened.

One thing city life has taught me is how to move on and get past the past. I'm grateful to my mother for being the woman she was—strong, a fighter, and a praying woman. She raised five children on her own and always would say, ""What else could I do? You have to do what you have to do so you can survive."" This is an encouraging word for single mothers who feel at times that they can't make it. Know this: strong women have gone before you and paved the way; they serve as an example.

Our society is changing, and I would like to encourage our brothers who now find themselves in a single-parent situation. Always remember, when in your place of torment, test, and challenge, to look for Jesus in the midst of your heated circumstances. I survived living in the projects in DC because my mother made Christ a part of our home. In addition, my mother was very present and watched her children and other children in our community like a hawk.

In the summer there was no central air conditioning in the homes in our neighborhood, so our parents would gather on someone's front porch, and the kids played outside until...