The Sacrifice

I grew up in a small city outside the walls of East. St. Louis, Illinois. I was blessed to have the warmth of a two parent home, and a great deal of siblings. Even in the early years of my life, I realized. I was different from my sisters and brothers. True enough, I loved my family with my whole heart. But, I began to drift into a small world of my own. At an early age, I began. What some would say was a peculiar relationship with a stranger? Bizarre as it may seem, I felt comfortable with the closeness; we shared. I was not ashamed to tell others: he was a true friend of mine. In fact, I spent many hours of the day building a relationship with him, which someday would be my only hope of survivor. Likewise, he was just attentive to me.

Although I loved the outdoors and looked forward to outdoor activities, the indoor was my idea of happiness. I knew the noise level from outside would break my concentration inside. It was not that I was all that different from other children. Without a doubt, I enjoyed the hobbies of jumping rope, playing basketball, and just everyday play. Yet, reading was my favorite hobby. Therefore, I looked forward to the inside chores. I would read stories after stories, memorizing as much material as my brain could absorb. This was one of the best moments of my life. Nevertheless, it was nothing like the time; I would spend with my savior. Oh! How I treasured the richness of his presence?

Day after day, I longed to be in the arms of the savior. Strange as it may seem, I know; he enjoyed my company too. It was like spending time with my best friend. Nonetheless, this friend was like no other. I could talk to him about anything my heart desired. There was never a time when; he ignored my plea. So, I spent the majority of my free time, gaining the knowledge to be a helpful individual to those that needed me.

As I began to mature in age and grow spiritually, the communication expanded even more. Many people would say; I was wise beyond my years. It was at that time; I realized. God was strengthening me, for the battle of my life. No doubt, I thought the battle was to run for Jesus. So I started the mission of building up a strong relationship with God, as the devil plotted pointlessly to bring me down to my knees. Rest assured, I never feared the Devil, or the plans he thought; he could use to sabotage my life. So I continued to reach to higher heights and deeper depth. It was not about the religion; some thought I had. I knew in my heart; it was about the relationship, which someday would test my faith.

Struggling to understand God's purpose, I prayed daily for answers to be revealed about his son, and how humble he was to his father. Many times, I wondered. Why God had chosen me? However, I knew the day would come, and my faith would be tried by the fire. Oh! How I wanted to prove. I was really ready. It was no doubt that I could conquer whatever came my way. So I constantly reminded God. I was ready for the battle. Moreover, I was armed for the war. Trusting that God would deliver, I asked him to place me in whatever setting. He saw fit. Quite often, I asked him to let his will be done. Yet many times, he reminded me; he was still working out things on my behalf. I believed. He was God, and I wanted more than anything to prove. I could be humble and obedient. But the more I surrendered, the more he reemphasized that my day was still to come.

In my heart, I knew. I was a missionary fighting for a good cause. So I longed even more to be just like Jesus. Although I was young, I had very little in common with my peers. It was no doubt that I was different from the way; they were. Not that I was abnormal. I just had a different outlook about the things, which was important to me. It was not about popularity, but getting acquainted with this stranger. My parents had befriended.

At that time, summers were very long, and hot. The sun appeared to literally burn the top layer of your skin. Sweat would pour from the body, giving the illusion. Our bodies were dissolving from the intense heat. Oh! But I enjoyed those hot summers. It was a time of recuperating from the bitter cold winters. Indeed, it was a time to warm up physically and spiritually, and let the fire flow through my soul. These were the days when; children were children. For the most part, they were mindful of their actions and had respect for one another. Likewise, parents were parents in those days. They were active in all aspects of their children's lives. In addition, neighbors were the eyes for the young. Church folks were involved in helping one another. In those days, school teachers worked beyond just teaching. They were self-motivated about the welfare of the children in their surrounding communities. Moreover, those were the days; families showed a true sign of togetherness.

Growing up in a very poor community, I took pleasure in the time. I spent at church. This was an event that allowed us, as a family to spend the day away from home. So every Saturday, our parents would prepare us to worship with fellow believers. This was a time, which. I could learn more about God, and the desires. He had for my life. For most of the young children in our congregation, Sabbath school was the most interesting part of the day. However, I enjoyed the moment of worship. This was my cue to find out even more about. The God I often prayed to.

As the preacher would bless the congregation with the word, I carefully took notes as he painted. His vision of; who God was? I was so moved by the sermons that I would play them back and forth, in my mind like a human tape recorder. It was an invitation for God himself to dwell in me. I wanted to be filled with as much of the Holy Spirit as God would allow. At this time, the only dream I had was to live for Jesus. Slowly the sun began to set; our day of worship was coming to a close. I can remember being so excited. I couldn't wait to share all the great news. I had learned with my friends. Often times, Saturday nights would slip away peaceful, because the majority of the day was spent in the house of worship. It was like a reunion, and I looked forward to it every week.

Bright and early on Sunday mornings, I would rise up, give thanks to God for all his blessings, and indeed. They were blessings. I knew that I had a long week ahead. But I had to hold on to the message to carry me through. I had to challenge myself to be strong, and trust God to deliver. Moreover, I knew the Devil would defy me also. Unsure of what each day would bring, I continued to embrace the God that I served. Eagerly waiting for the middle of the week, I knew; once again, we would be reunited as one. Prayer service for the foundation of the church, which I attended, was every Wednesday. But with limited gas and inadequate funds, our parents elected to have service at home in our living room. There was no such thing as missing in action. In addition, tardiness did not exist. There were no excuses outside of being sick. In other words, Wednesday night prayer service was a requirement, not a recommendation.

Giving a double dose of unity weekly, I was able to keep God close to my heart. I truly loved him, and his son Jesus. And I wanted more than anything to show him how much. I visualize; what he was like? Although his outer appearance was never part of my apparition, I wanted to have the characteristics of God, my father, and I prayed for him to show me favor. Unlike many children in my age group,...