He Didn't Give Up on Me

I have been in prison the last five years for selling drugs.

I am also a single mother of four beautiful girls, ranging in age from seventeen to five years, and the oldest of three siblings. I’ve made mistakes in my life but God hasn’t given up on me. He’s used people and prayer in my life to bring me back to Him, even in prison.

In elementary school, I was picked on because my mother was poor and we couldn’t afford nice clothes. I got so depressed by my mom’s addictions that I ran away from home when I was twelve. I was scared to tell anyone about what was going on because I didn’t want them to put my sister, my brother, and me in foster care and throw my mom in jail.

I took a bunch of pills and hid under a bed in my grandma’s house. But she found me and I was taken to the hospital. My mom had me admitted to a mental hospital, but after a couple weeks, my grandma got custody of me and took me home. She told me not to worry, she believed in me and God was gonna see us through.

While living with my grandma from age 12 to 19, I was taught to love and trust God. I was baptized before my thirteenth birthday and started going to Sunday school. My mind was finally set free. I felt safe and protected.

My grandma taught me to never fear anything, to pray and trust God, believing Him to see me through because He has a plan for me. I finished school, moved out, and then I turned my back on God and started running with the wrong crowds. One day, my grandma pulled me aside and said to me, “Shaun, Jesus loves you.” But I was so caught in the world that I didn’t want to hear it. She said before I left, “There will come a time when you gonna come to cry and ain’t nobody gonna be there but God.”

Years later in a prison gym chapel service those words came back to me. I had started serving my time in 2003. February of 2004 I was lying on my bed and two friends of mine, She’meaka and Latoya, asked if I wanna go out and walk around with them before the grounds closed. I said sure. They brought me into an auditorium where church services were held, but I didn’t know that since I’d never been there. They told me to grab a chair and follow them. That night my whole life changed.

The pastor talked about how Jesus died for us while we were still sinners; even though He knew we would be tried and tested, wouldn’t be perfect, be brought down, give up, deny Him, not believe—He died for us so we could be saved.

I sat there and thought, “I guess that’s why He gave me a drug-addicted mom, a step-dad who tried to rape me, and a grandma who had to work on a farm to help us kids survive.” I felt He didn’t protect me, so why would I believe in Him? That’s when it hit me: how I had a praying grandma who had spent my whole childhood telling me about this God she served and how He gave her strength to make it through.

When I was growing up I watched my granddad and grandma work on a farm to provide for us. Even when my granddad died in 1988, my grandma kept working and providing for all her grandkids and kids. I watched her work every day and still come home and cook lunch and dinner, taking care of her needs and her family’s – the whole time singing and praising God. To this very day she is still healthy and stable, praising God and holding me up in prayer, as well as her family and her church family.

That night, sitting in that gym, the pastor made an altar call. I opened my eyes and the tears started to fall. I heard my grandma and I heard my heart. I hadn’t prayed in so long or thought about how God had saved me when I was young. Now, at age 30, I found myself getting up out of my seat and starting toward the pastor. When I got to the front, I fell on my knees. He touched my head and I repeated a sinner’s prayer.

Before I left, the pastor grabbed my hand and told me that God was gonna use me, and that He planned my footsteps before my birth. When the pastor told me that, I had this feeling come over me and I knew that I had to get my life together because the road I had taken was headed to hell.

The next day I met again with my friend She’meaka and we started to pray each morning before we ate and each day before the grounds closed, and soon other girls were watching us. They started joining us and our circle grew.

It’s five years later. I’m still bound-n’-chained, but everywhere I go throughout my incarceration I’m a witness. God sends many people to me, both in prison and through the mail. I give them the message I’ve grown to know and trust. I learned that even when my father and mother forsook me, I had a Father in heaven who has been with me since before I was formed, who had already ordained me and my footsteps. Even though I wasn’t set free to go home, I was free on the inside.

Each day the ladies and I meet at different times to pray and be encouraged to be real. I tell them to be bold enough to confess to God. I tell them the only way they will make it is to give it to the Lord. I remember our circle praying for Heather, a friend of mine. Her daughter was taken away from her because of Heather’s drug addiction. She thought it was too late, but God didn’t! Heather went into recovery and we stood in prayer, stood touching and agreeing.
Heather recovered and her daughter was brought back home before her eighth birthday. God made a way even when the courts said she couldn’t come back. That showed our whole prayer circle that man does not have the last say. God does.

When I went to prison, I thought I would lose my kids and my family support. But with every visit and every letter, I’m reassured I serve a mighty God, a God of second chances. I am very grateful for my grandma and my other family members for helping take care of my girls while I’ve been incarcerated. Every other month they get to visit me in prison for two hours. It’s a day where tears and smiles fill our faces and we all are so anxious for the next time to come. By God’s will, I’m closer than ever to my girls, and my family is behind me no matter where I go. My grandma is still by my side and standing strong at 80.

I know it’s God. He made a way for me. Today I don’t count how many days I still have in prison. Today I march toward the goal of getting to heaven and bringing as many followers as I can.