As I stand here and take a whiff of the night air on my porch, I inhale with my eyes closed and remember where I came from and exhale and open my eyes and see how far God has brought me. My wife, my kids, my gosh… Sometimes I think they have been through more than me simply trying to bear with me. Oh, excuse me. My name is Shakir Davis. I am 33 years old and I am a newly found Christian. My road to altar wasn’t easy. Most thought I would never get there. If you don’t mind, I’d like to share my story with you…
You see, I have always been a hardworking man. However, I never realized that was also going to be my downfall. My belief was work hard and live life. My wife however… Let’s just say you couldn’t keep her out of church. Every time the doors were open she was there. She took my kids too. Then one day, that question came up and my wife finally wanted talk.
She asked me, “When are you going to come to church with me? You promised me you would come and the kids are starting to wonder if they have to go or not if you don’t.” I’ll never forget that moment. I felt the compelling guilt drop into my stomach like the gulp of beer I swallowed before I answered her question. I answered with, “Baby, I’m coming, just on my own time. Tell the kids I have to work.” I look back now and I can’t believe I asked my own wife to lie to my kids. Afterwards, I felt to guilty, I got so drunk I couldn’t make it to work the next day.
I woke up that evening to 14 missed calls, disgruntled kids and a quiet wife with a black eye. I asked, “Camile, what happened!?! Who hit you!?!” She sat for a while and stared at the television then turned and looked at me slowly and said, “You need to stop drinking.” I looked at my kids Tristen, who was 6 at the time and Destiny who was 9. I told them to go to their rooms while I tried my best to apologize to Camile. It was to no avail, so I started sleeping on the couch because she would lock the room door at night. I knew I needed help, but like most, I thought I was strong enough to kick the habit on my own. The first of my many mistakes.