Over the next few years, quite a bit happened in my life. Some of it was glorious and some of it wasn’t. There is not a lot of detail that I want to give about everything that happened. Ultimately at the age of ten my parent’s divorced. There is not a lot of detail about the divorce that I want to give out, but it was hard. I was now the man of the house and had to really help take care of my brother who was now four. Things were hard for us. My mom worked her tail off to make sure that we never went without. She did an amazing job with two kids. My dad was involved in our lives and he did the best that he could do as well. It was not a truly terrible situation for us, but it was not a good one either.
I had watched my family fall apart. I had teachers asking me if I was okay at school. In talking with my mom, she says that I lost my childhood when the divorce happened. I was forced to grow up too quick and be the man. I tend to disagree with her, but that is because I know that the events of those years made me who I am today. They were the events that put me on the road that I am on today. While they were not “great” steps, even Christ asked that the cup be taken from Him before He was arrested. And that is why this is the start of my journey to crucifixion.
I was at a wrestling point with God. I couldn’t figure Him or His plan out. I was mad at Him some times. I could not put together why He would save my brother and then split up our parents. How does that work? How does God allow that to happen, but it did. And it changed me. The heartache and rough moments that occurred in my life during this time, obviously did little to increase my faith in God. I never doubted His being there, I just doubted at times that He really cared about His creation. I still went to Sunday school and learned all about Him. I still went to church with my family and even believed that God was going to change the situation.
For me though, the divorce was the equivalent to Christ being sentenced to death. It was a punishment for a crime that I didn’t commit. I was just a kid as was my brother, but we suffered tremendously for this. While we were able to see both of our parents, it was not the same. No mattered how much they both told us we were special or that it was not our fault, it did not change the way we felt. At the heart of every argument was something that said this was my fault or that I could fix this. If I was just a better kid then this would end. It didn’t.
I was now firmly on the road to being crucified with Christ. I can only say that because I have the luxury of looking back on my life and I know that the crucifixion of Christ was not the end, but merely the beginning. This time in my life marked the first steps down the road to being resurrected into a new person with Him. Over the next several years, I would grow to understand and know that my parents were not going to be together. I would also slip and fall, but as my brother grew older, he helped me with my cross and all the baggage that I carried. He would see the hurt in me and would encourage me. He would see me at my worst and love me. He was always just content to be with me. We didn’t have to go anywhere, he just wanted to be around me and that was all I needed to continue down the road.
The road though scared me. It was full of pain and agony. It was a time of not knowing what the next step would bring. As I got older and started into high school, I battled depression. I battled the feelings of worthlessness. They did not destroy me, and I did not fall into anything “bad”. I was still an above average student and had plenty of friends. I just knew that something was missing in my life. In order for it to be filled though my life would travel to the edge. Before I graduated from High School, the depression would get to me.
I would ultimately have to choose to die.