Today I awoke; Crying.
I heaved in painful sobs
with emotional strain until
I cried myself from sleep.

"Why"? I questioned. I have a good life.
My children are happy and love me,
as does my wife. My future isn't bleak.
I have purpose as a Chaplain to the Streets.
"Why"?

While stirring my coffee the answer came,
staring at me in the distance.
Sadly I recalled the pain; though,
it came with much resistance.

I remembered sitting in Algebra class
frowning at my teacher
and cheating on a test to pass.
Cheating, because I didn't care
to learn the facts of pi equals this
or how to square that.

My concern wasn't whether I could count
in fancy figures or figure the amounts,
when just the night before I slit both wrists
in trembling fear of what I'd find,
lurking behind death's door!

But anything; anything would be better
than my father's wrath and slaps;
and kicks and hits; and empty gun clicks
to the head, screaming,
"HEY! SO YOU WISH YOU WERE DEAD"?!

"Dad, NO! Please! NO don't kill me"!
I cried; cried until the the anguish
heaved my breath away,
and the taste of death
was in my sweat,
running to my lips
in salty bitterness!

"No Dad, pleasssse!
I don't want to die"!
were the words that surfaced
from the sub conscience grave
where I had buried them
that day.

He made me cry.
Cry until the shakes took me over
and I hiccupped blood
from a choke hold to the throat.

"Ah, STOP your crying!
It's not even loaded!
See..."! he said,
clicking the rifle to my head!

"I'll make him pay. Wait and see!
He'll be mad that I stained the walls
and floor!
When he pulls the carpet
to remove my blood,
I can see him now; mad that he
can't abuse me anymore!

He'll clean UP the blood,
and redo the floor
wondering what it was
he didn't do enough,
or what he did the more!

But he'll never clean, never clean...
the memory of me...
the one who use to cling, use to cling...
to his arms when he was in the Army....
Army...ARMM'Y...

Holy God! Help me!
Holy Jesus can't you see
what my dad is doing to me?
Ahhhhh God have MERCY!

What should I do?
He beats me black and blue!
Write a poem? Yeah Right!
It'd make a good one all right,
but the poems aren't in me tonight!

Nor is my blood! Oh God!
It's running down my hands!
I just want to cry. Can I cry?
Or is that unlike a man?

If I die what would it right?
If I live will I make it through
the night? Alive? With a mind?
Oh Lord hear me? Pleasssse!
I'm just fifteen... just fifteen..."

In the pause of the stillness
while my chest bore the fall
I saw within my heart
a purpose for it all!

Though I thought it didn't matter,
if I lived, or if I died;
I knew I had to hold on
though I questioned why.

He couldn't love himself!
And therein laid the pain!
He couldn't love himself enough
to stay his hand from his youngest
boy's face,... the one that looked the
most like him, out of all the boys he raised!

So as I pondered these words,
I restrained my hand from the path
of self murder that day.
However, it was not the fear
of what's beyond this life
that stopped the blade
of the knife.

It was the choice I made for me
to ESTEEM myself enough, ..just enough
to trust and believe in the Good Lord
when I accepted His challenge to be
with these spoken words in a vow:

"I... I will... live... live... LIVVVVV'E!...,
to be SOMEBODY" !

TODAY I AWOKE © Copyright 2001 ~ by Chaplain Scott.
All rights reserved to www.chaplainscott.com

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Today my father is filled with the Holy Spirit, love and humility, and has been since 1974.

It was just over three years later after this attempted suicide that I was directed into the ministry where the Lord guided me to win my Dad and whole family to Christ, which they in turn have won many others.

Dad has been my best friend since. The love we now share is precious beyond spoken or written expression. And though the abuse took it's toll, I have truly learned what it means to forgive!

I realize now God had a plan. He was not the source of the evil, but His plan involved using me in a miracle of His to bring my whole family and many others to Jesus. I was possibly a focused target for evil, early on, assuming the evil one had some knowledge that the Gospel call to the office of prophetic ministry was upon my life. If he had succeeded in aiding to end my life, what chain of different events might have occured?

We all have our purpose. We all count for something! We all are "somebody" in His sight for the glory of God!!

When mercy comes calling, it cleanses what lies within.