My rage turned into abuse. I started targeting the young teenage girls I hooked up with — harming them physically. I remember one night a young lady got tired of my violence and fought back. Her reaction unleashed a rage in me I hadn’t seen before. She pressed charges, and I found myself with an aggravated assault and battery charge on the cusp of prison with the big boys.

For a moment, my life flashed before my eyes, but the charges were eventually dropped due to the mercy of the young victim’s mother who thought I deserved another chance to get my life together. With a free pass, I picked up where I left off, with little remorse.

Life was dark. I was completely lost and alone.

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In the absence of a father, my anger and emotions had become my master. I was blind to anything else but my experience and my pain. I thought I needed an earthly father and mother present in my life to have what my heart desired most. I thought the good life flowed from perfect parents and a perfect home. And when things broke down, I thought I had to fix it myself. I became my own captain, responsible for what I wanted and needed in life. Justice was mine to avenge and dish out. That’s what trying to find your way in the dark looks like. I needed a new set of eyes, a new master to follow, and the light to see things clearly.

But instead, I was trapped in a tunnel of rage, looking for the next head to knock. That’s when I got blindsided.

“I can’t do the things we used to do,” a good friend of mine said. “I’m a new man. God got ahold of me. I got saved.” What? THAT guy? I was in total disbelief. He wasn’t as bad as me, but he wasn’t a good guy either. I thought only certain types of people could become Christian, and in my mind, he and I were near the bottom of the list. I was so confused. But I couldn’t get his story out of my mind. There was this glimmer of hope I couldn’t shake — if God could reach a dude like that, maybe he could look out for a guy like me? The rest of that day this voice kept whispering the answer over and over in my mind, “ It’s for everybody … it’s for everybody … it’s for everybody.” What is that? Who is that?

I thought I was unreachable. I thought I was too far gone. But the nagging wouldn’t stop, so that evening, when I got home, I lay down on my bed and cried out to God the best way that I knew how. I said, “God, if this is you, if you’re trying to get my attention, if you can do anything with this life, here I am.” There wasn’t a pastor, no church, just a quiet moment. That night I accepted Jesus into my life. Everything wasn’t magically better, but slowly I began the journey of healing, following a leader I could rely upon.

My mother had done the best she could, but she couldn’t teach me manhood. Looking back now, it’s clear she knew what I needed most. As many times as she was unfairly caught in the crossfire of my pain, she was always merciful. She would pray over me and speak the word of God to me. She never quit on me, and that always stuck with me.

Despite my actions, Christ demonstrated his unconditional love for me, and he proved to be my only way out of the darkness. He’s offered me peace when life around me, even inside of me, was anything but peaceful. He says he’ll never leave me or forsake me, and he’s proven that time and time again. He saw value in what I couldn’t recognize. He knew my worth and identity in him, when I couldn’t see it for myself.

My only regret is that I couldn’t see clearly sooner. Imagine the pain and suffering caused by my bare hands that could have been saved if I had trusted Christ long ago to serve as my guide and beacon? So now I share the merciful power of his love with anybody and everybody. Christ wants to make himself known to you, and make a home in you. He loves you regardless of any life choices you made. He just wants you to choose him. And if you think you’re too far gone, well that’s a lie. I’m here as living proof. That’s plain to see.