Read Online A Sad Soul Can Kill You by Catherine Flowers - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catherine Flowers
Ads: Link
made.
He had grown up in a two-parent household. His mother and father had raised him to know Jesus, and had loved and nurtured him along with his two older sisters. But Tony had been a follower not of Jesus but of the wrong crowd. When he was eighteen years old, he allowed the negative behavior of his friends to rub off on him, and he became a rebel without a cause.
Whatever his cohorts did, he did. He became a thief, a liar, and when he foolishly experimented with crack cocaine, he became an addict. And the unpretentious life heâd once lived was disrupted for five years.
Unfortunately, Tonyâs life had not been the only life heâd disrupted. His parents and sisters suffered right along with him; their days and nights filled with untold anxiety each time he went on a binge and disappeared for days at a time.
âCanât you see what youâre doing to your mother?â his father had asked pointing to her shrinking body. Tonyâs mother had always been a full-figured woman, but the worrying she did about the safety of her son had caused her to slowly lose weight.
He still remembered the day his father had lost patience with him and had forbidden him to come back to their house.
âWe didnât raise you this way,â heâd said full of anger. âIf you want some help, act like it and weâll help you. If you donât, stop coming around here worrying your mother like you do.â
Tonyâs two sisters understood the ways of a crack addict as well, and although they loved him dearly, they were wise enough not to let him take advantage of their emotions which even he admitted he would have done had he been given the opportunity.
When heâd asked if he could stay with either one of them, theyâd both said, âNo.â
âClean up your act!â theyâd yelled between tears. âGet it together!â
He remembered standing in front of them wondering why they were crying. He should have been the one crying because what they hadnât understood was that he didnât have the power to get it together. He couldnât clean up his act. Heâd tried. Many times.
Heâd uttered prayers to God for deliverance. But they had been heartless prayers because his thoughts had been consumed with how and when he could get his next high before the high he was on wore off. Back then, the longest Tony had gone without using had been two days.
While he was in bondage to his addiction Tony had done some things he wasnât proud ofâlike the time heâd snatched an elderly womanâs purse from her shoulder. Heâd been following behind her as sheâd walked slowly down the sidewalk. When she stopped at the crosswalk, he ran past her, snatching her purse as he passed.
He had pulled the purse from her shoulder with so much force that heâd caused her to fall forward, hitting her head on the pavement. But he hadnât looked back as heâd heard her scream, and heâd been gone before anyone had a chance to catch him or identify him.
Later that night, he remembered watching the news and hearing the story about an elderly woman whoâd had her purse snatched, and how sheâd suffered a concussion and a broken arm in the process.
There had only been fourteen dollars in her purse, and for a long time afterward, Tony would hear the womanâs screams even after he had consumed enough drugs to eradicate any sensitivities he may have had left. Sometimes, he would have drug-induced auditory hallucinations, and he couldnât tell if the screams he heard were that of the woman or of himself.
It wasnât until he found himself homeless and rummaging through garbage cans for food that he began to have a true change of heart. It was then that he earnestly called on the name of the Lord for deliverance. And it was then, prodigal son that he was, that God heard his cries and had mercy on him.
Now, twenty-two years later, his
He had grown up in a two-parent household. His mother and father had raised him to know Jesus, and had loved and nurtured him along with his two older sisters. But Tony had been a follower not of Jesus but of the wrong crowd. When he was eighteen years old, he allowed the negative behavior of his friends to rub off on him, and he became a rebel without a cause.
Whatever his cohorts did, he did. He became a thief, a liar, and when he foolishly experimented with crack cocaine, he became an addict. And the unpretentious life heâd once lived was disrupted for five years.
Unfortunately, Tonyâs life had not been the only life heâd disrupted. His parents and sisters suffered right along with him; their days and nights filled with untold anxiety each time he went on a binge and disappeared for days at a time.
âCanât you see what youâre doing to your mother?â his father had asked pointing to her shrinking body. Tonyâs mother had always been a full-figured woman, but the worrying she did about the safety of her son had caused her to slowly lose weight.
He still remembered the day his father had lost patience with him and had forbidden him to come back to their house.
âWe didnât raise you this way,â heâd said full of anger. âIf you want some help, act like it and weâll help you. If you donât, stop coming around here worrying your mother like you do.â
Tonyâs two sisters understood the ways of a crack addict as well, and although they loved him dearly, they were wise enough not to let him take advantage of their emotions which even he admitted he would have done had he been given the opportunity.
When heâd asked if he could stay with either one of them, theyâd both said, âNo.â
âClean up your act!â theyâd yelled between tears. âGet it together!â
He remembered standing in front of them wondering why they were crying. He should have been the one crying because what they hadnât understood was that he didnât have the power to get it together. He couldnât clean up his act. Heâd tried. Many times.
Heâd uttered prayers to God for deliverance. But they had been heartless prayers because his thoughts had been consumed with how and when he could get his next high before the high he was on wore off. Back then, the longest Tony had gone without using had been two days.
While he was in bondage to his addiction Tony had done some things he wasnât proud ofâlike the time heâd snatched an elderly womanâs purse from her shoulder. Heâd been following behind her as sheâd walked slowly down the sidewalk. When she stopped at the crosswalk, he ran past her, snatching her purse as he passed.
He had pulled the purse from her shoulder with so much force that heâd caused her to fall forward, hitting her head on the pavement. But he hadnât looked back as heâd heard her scream, and heâd been gone before anyone had a chance to catch him or identify him.
Later that night, he remembered watching the news and hearing the story about an elderly woman whoâd had her purse snatched, and how sheâd suffered a concussion and a broken arm in the process.
There had only been fourteen dollars in her purse, and for a long time afterward, Tony would hear the womanâs screams even after he had consumed enough drugs to eradicate any sensitivities he may have had left. Sometimes, he would have drug-induced auditory hallucinations, and he couldnât tell if the screams he heard were that of the woman or of himself.
It wasnât until he found himself homeless and rummaging through garbage cans for food that he began to have a true change of heart. It was then that he earnestly called on the name of the Lord for deliverance. And it was then, prodigal son that he was, that God heard his cries and had mercy on him.
Now, twenty-two years later, his
Similar Books
