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Gang Life: In The Words of Gang Members

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Call me Paradox. I’ve been teaching 14-24 yr.olds for two years, with piercings, tattoos, alcoholic/drug parents, called little f’rs, told they’re a mistake, bruises left on them by "Christian" parents, kids mixed up in witchcraft, drugs, locked up for selling, hung out in the crack house, dealt with classmates who committed suicide, saw their friends shot and killed, near gutted for getting out of the gang, high school drop outs, molested, & in a gang or having a brother/friend/ or classmate in a gang. Most have been around religion. The numbers have grown and dwindled more than once, but I don’t look at the numbers. Jesus only had twelve disciples yet He ministered to the multitudes. He didn’t collect them. GOD named our group, CHRISTIAN GANGSTERS, embroidered in a cross. The name is a paradox, seems like a contradiction. We honor Christ, and all who have and are, being treated like criminals despite their innocence, and murdered for the gang’s cause! A gang is simply a group of people united and working together toward the same goals. But those are not terms that will be accepted by many in Christian circles. They can take it up with the One who named us! Our name is also true because God has called me to minister to those in street gangs. To any who would stick their nose up, I would be quick to ask them what makes them think their soul is more valuable to God than mine or yours? GOD gave us our gang colors: black for the guys, pink & black for the ladies. He gave one student a CG rap song. I believe Jesus IS the greatest gang leader who ever lived! GOD gave us the words: Lay It At The Cross with our GOD-given emblem: a cross with a hand gun at the foot of it!

A student discovered this site. I am now a regular reader. The other day as I was having a personal talk with a G, he said he liked me, that I was real. Said he’d met too many fake Christians. I told him I hated pretense. If I can’t be real, you can’t real, then the relationship can’t be real. God is all about Relationship, not religious rules. Students say that I relate to them. I would like to share with you why I also relate to all the hearts who are poured out on this site.

The 1st song I ever learned was Jesus Loves Me. A simple child’s song would carry me for years and play a part in my longing to know Jesus.

I remember being four. My mom tried to get help from the police. Like today, it’s hard to get help until it’s too late. I remember my step-dad whipping me every morning, locking me in the laundry room. He sat me on a bar stool. My arms and legs had nothing to hold on to. Then he left me sitting in the dark. Why? He said it was my fault that I wet the bed. For years I couldn’t understand why my mom would just watch it all happen and not do anything, except look sad from across the room. I know now that she was afraid. I had just turned five, when I woke up one night from the shot gun blast. I ran to the door of her room. My mom was lying on the bed, shot. I couldn’t get to her because my step-dad slammed the door in my face and ordered me to get back in bed. THEN the police show up, but for what? My step-dad only served two years in prison, so I learned quickly that the Justice System wasn’t justice. For years, that smell, you know it, the funeral home odor, kept haunting my nostrils. I went to live with my dad. He remarried to provide a mom. They later filed for divorce. While they were separated someone broke in, beat her really bad. She died from a brain aneurysm. My dad married again. By the time I was 8 I’d had five parents and two deaths. This step-mom was verbally abusive, said that the older I got the dumber I got, threatened to mash my mouth, throw me through the wall, she read my hidden diary, spied on me at school, lied, said I danced like a prostitute, could not wear the color red, that it meant sexy, would not allow me to date, go to the prom, have phone calls, friends over, would ground me to my room frequently for two weeks at a time to come out for school, baths and chores. I got use to being all alone, and she put bars on my bedroom window. Claimed it was to keep out burglars, yet our house was in nowhere land and funny thing how I never did get a key to the lock. I wondered if she secretly hoped the house might catch on fire? She would coax me to trust her with things that were personal, then later stab me in the back with it, so trust has always been an issue with the ones that were suppose to be there for me! My dad died a few years ago and he left everything to her. Go figure! At 17 I was sure no one would ever want me, so I literally married the first man I ever dated. He was 11 years older than me, had two kids, recently divorced. I gave up my virginity, got pregnant and ended up with two step-kids before my daughter was born, then discovered I married an abusive pervert, who for years would call me a whore, accuse me of sleeping around, would come home from work, look in the closet/under the bed and ask how many men I had that day. For two years I thought he was joking! How could he be for real when I was being faithful? He threaten to kill me many times, had severe mood swings, fine one minute, angry the next, & over time I discovered how perverted he was. His standard cruel response to me after sex, was that I did okay but would’ve done it better for some other man. I could never please him. If I gained weight he satisfied himself with porn mags filled with skinny women. If I lost weight, he did the same, only with porn mags that had fat women. He visited adult book stores and had sex with men, went to his mom’s to masturbate where she could see him, caught him hard with his clothes on once with a small child on his lap that I was baby-sitting, took a naked photo of me and showed it to a co-worker. After 12 years of torment, in which we also had a son together whom he was verbally/physically abusive to, I decided that even death would be better.

One day after work, I told him that if he was going to kill me, he would have to do it that day. If he did not kill me, he was getting out. I had nothing left inside of me to give. He looked into my eyes and knew I meant it. He was finally out! He now owes me about twenty thousand dollars in back child support and is in jail for molesting his eight year old niece.

Now single, working 3d shift and trying to hold my own. I spent my entire first marriage taking my children to the health dept., getting rides when we had no car, no phone, having their Christmas once furnished by the Salvation Army, standing in lines for gov’t cheese, and on food stamps for 6 yr..My kids ate ketchup in a bowl with a spoon or popcorn when the food ran out. At times we walked to get a hot meal and had to bum a ride home. Now on my own and working, I didn’t want to go backwards. I was sure marriage was still a good thing with the right man, so in hopes of Mr. Right, I allowed myself to be sampled by some. I was still haunted though by the one night stand I finally did have in my first marriage, because as I said in anger one night, "Since you keep calling me a whore, I’ll do whatever the hell I please." I was not a Christian, so I had alot of choice words and I wanted to get back at him the only way I knew how. Then, right before we separated, I had a brief affair. I was closer to committing suicide than I had been since I was 16, when I first started contemplating it. I was taking nerve pills, pills to stay awake on 3d shift and pills to sleep during the day. I felt like I’d already lived three lives. I was hurting so bad emotionally that it had turned to physical pain inside. All my life, it was very hard for me to cry. It was one way to survive. I was determined not to give further satisfaction to those who abused me, to see how bad I hurt. When I did, it was in secret, or on the inside so they couldn’t see my tears.

Like the recent write up "They Ask Why We Cry" and she ends it by saying, "I think you would cry too," you don’t know what you’ll do, until you walk in someone else’s shoes! Jesus said that he who hath not sinned may cast the first stone.

I married a second time to "Prince Charming". Never assume that what you see is what you get! When the Charm wears off, the "Character" is what you get! I was a Christian now, but out of sheer stupidity and the fact that "he was too good to be true", I overlooked him working in porn! As a buyer, he reviewed toys, flyer layouts, videos, lingerie, books, lube, even met porn stars! He was hard working, traveled on business and went to expensive meetings with top executives who dealt in mega bucks. A far cry from welfare, bankruptcy and a husband I had to beg to keep a job! Yet all that glitters is not gold. By our 1st wedding anniversary I had bruises. The next few years, he would knock me to the floor for wanting to go to a prayer meeting, tear me down verbally, get mad over nothing to the point I tried not to speak for fear of setting him off again, demanded what child support checks I got in the beginning, demanded my pay check, left bruises conveniently in places where people couldn’t see, called me many names and when I’d go to the bathroom during the night, he would wake up, and demand what I was doing! I began walking on egg shells/unknowingly I became very jumpy! During this we were raising my two biological kids. Then he starts going to church, said he got saved, changed jobs and became a pew warmer. He’d scold me if I took notes at the wrong time, scold me for making some facial _expression he didn’t like, and forbid me to go to the book room since it was fellowship time. When I did socialize, he said I embarrassed him or got mad because I told somebody something that I hadn’t told him. If friends called, he’d stand by the phone with an attitude, listening. Off the phone he’d scold me for talking too long or argue over what he heard. He timed my showers and was angry because I wasn’t fast like him. Nothing I ever did was right! I wasn’t allowed to leave the house after dark unless it was for my job or with him. He said I would never leave him except in a body bag! I took the kids to a shelter for abused women/children. I didn’t have a dollar to my name, even though I worked full time. In court, trying to get a mandatory order for him to attend Anger Management, the Judge made me look like a fool! Said he got worse bruises working around his house! Again, the Justice System treated my life like a joke. The church did not think I should leave him or take him to court, but that I should return home! My husband said he didn’t know if he could ever forgive me for having him locked up! Once he was in the program, 2 kids, no where to go, and now my son was out of control, I did go back. Those who say all you have to do is leave are ignorant.

The first 6 months was better, but soon the war was on. On top of it all, my son was trying to cope. At age 5, he would slam his bedroom door in my face, scream, "I hate you, I wish I was dead". He grew into his teens chasing his sister with a knife, saying he would kill her, sliced the bathroom door, broke 3 more doors, called me a bitch, said I never did anything for him, got into drugs, cutting himself, listened to satanic music, huffing gasoline while lighting a cigarette lighter and saying he wanted to die (I had him hospitalized and the system was a joke), and the previous child psychologist made things worse. He had learning disabilities, never fit well in school, got in a fight with his step-dad which brought the police, social services and a child protection agent to our home! Thank God, a year ago this month he gave his heart to the Lord! He is now 17 and a blessing! So you see, I got hell from every direction. It seemed I would never finish paying the dues that I some how must have owed this life!

Christian counseling was pointless, since it kept circling back to me not submitting enough! My husband said I was a failure as a wife and mother and couldn’t possibly be anything God wanted me to be. Then came the night when he cornered me one more time. I just couldn’t take it anymore. It took everything inside of me, every ounce of faith I had, to keep from bolting across the kitchen to grab a butcher knife and killing him! For the first time in my life, I was more afraid of what I might do, than of somebody else! I was a suicidal Christian, a paradox. My being saved didn’t stop his abuse. For about a month, I cried out to God for dear life, while every time my husband opened his mouth it was like finger nails clawing a blackboard and my guts were wringing out inside! I begged God to do something! If He didn’t, I was going to jail for murder! I came too close to the edge to ever think I’m better than others. Over the next 3 years of my life, God sent 6 miracles. I did not know it at the time, but looking back, I know now that they were! God first brought me my new baby. His name means God Hath Remembered! Not only does his birth name represent God’s Remembrance of his life, from the conditions of which he was brought out of, but also the condition of my life, in which he was brought into. For the first time in 4 years, I had joy and hope and a renewed reason to hang on! Putting us together, God would transform both our lives! At four months old, he came to us through a teen friend of my daughter’s, who wasn’t ready to be a mother. God filled my heart with such love for this baby, that had I given birth to him ten times over, I could never love a child more. In my heart, this baby was my flesh and blood! Second, God answered my desperate cry to know Him! I couldn’t survive learning about Him. God showed up in such an amazing way, that love replaced every ounce of emptiness I had ever felt as a wife. Despite my circumstances, I was complete inside for the first time in my life! Third, God gave me the courage to stand up to my husband and tell him I would no longer work a public job, so I could be a stay at home mom and become a God chaser! Fourth, God brought me (by myself) out of the church we were attending! He drew me into various styles of modern praise music & into worship! Fifthly, God compelled me to go to a Bible College an hour away, one week each month, earning an Associate Degree in Theology. The courses were not about God, but deep revelations given to Pastors all over the U.S., of WHO God is and the meat of His Word. Those 3 years impacted my entire relationship with the Lord! Sixth, God ushered me into my divine destiny - to teach the youth that many do not want in traditional churches.

I learned to be a thankful victim, a paradox. Had I not suffered through all those years of experiences, I would have settled on some pew with some average man, and never would have experienced the deep relationship I now have with the Lord, or have matured into this destiny! God began molding HIS Character of love, mercy, forgiveness, trust, faith that all things are possible, patience and humility, so that I could fulfill His plan for my life, which in time will effect a multitude of lives, through the lessons in which God taught me how to survive from His Word, to be a strong, brave warrior.

As my divine destiny began to unfold, the strongholds of control, fear, and manipulation that my husband oppressed me with, began to drop off. I now train in Martial Arts 3 times a week, starting 7 months ago. God’s plan led me there through ministry. As I further train, my husband is reluctant to ever corner me. God is turning the tide! The verbal abuse hasn’t stopped totally but I know now he’s cursing his own life when his words cut me. I trust God with my life now, so I am able to forgive and go on. Hiding the check book he keeps me penniless. Whatever money I need I have to ask for with a reason. Now I trust God as my source & Vindicator! The paradox in our home is living with a loving abuser: mean spirited to some of us, yet so loving to my youngest son, who he makes a point of hiding his treatment of me from, so if mommy ever gets upset with daddy, then it makes me look like the bad guy!

God continues to tie my destiny into gangs. He opened doors, giving me interviews with leaders & members of the Bloods, Crips and Folk. He led a student to this site, knowing I would be effected. At times I can’t keep from crying as I read the words & feel your pain. God’s heart is impartial. Therefore so must mine be. God is just as thrilled to save a Crip as He is a Blood. Being trapped in a situation is not about color, age, or set. Oppression is everywhere.

The words of one gang leader are stamped on my heart. He said, "I cry when no one can see me and every night I pray and ask God to do whatever it takes not to let me go to hell." The agreed 1 hour interview had turned into three. He kept saying he didn’t know why, but he felt he could trust me. I told him it was because this was God’s deal and I wasn’t a threat to anybody. He said he liked what I was trying to do. I asked what the responsibility was like as leader.

He said it was awful, because he has his part to keep and has to fix everybody else’s messes. Through out the interview, tears kept streaming down his face. So I wonder, which is the greater trap, being the leader or the follower? If every Christian were as dedicated to God as gang members are to their sets and willing to die for a cause, Satan would not have a chance in hell at destroying the destiny of God’s seed. I’m now reading: Gangs to Jobs by Rev. Roger Minassian. God is the reason I am still sane! Having a heart for gang members & say that I am sane, is a paradox in the minds of most. Jesus makes life worth being a paradox, a Jesus Freak, 24/7/365 ready to die, or live 4-Him in every way, and unashamed of it! Here’s a prayer request for all you prayer warriors out there: that God send me someone with real heart for gangs, that can set up a Web site for Christian Gangsters.

God gives me paradox titles: Love to Hate and Hate with Passion, Tattoos Can Be Holy, Spiritual Intercourse, Your Problem Is Not the Problem, The Games That Satan Plays, etc. Every lesson is supported by God’s Word! My heart is to make them available to gang members, everywhere, who either want out but you don’t know if you can survive another day, or you’ve gotten out but you’re not being spiritually fed.

Those who live the paradox of normal dysfunction, only breed misery. But those who live desperate dysfunction, breed a demanding spirit for change! Not everyone can just leave their circumstances. But I’ve learned that the greatest change that carries the most valuable weight, is the change within. I believe that’s why God has called me to be a Survival Teacher, in which I teach RLCC: Relationship, Life, Controversy and Courage!

What’s in it for me? I already have everything I want. Jesus! I tell my students, "You don’t owe me anything. If you are grateful, tell it to Jesus. If you are ungrateful, tell it to Jesus. As for me, I am just the vessel who is in love with Jesus. And for that, I am grateful!"

Questions, comments, or prayer requests? E-mail christiangangsters7@yahoo.com

Paradox

P.S. One of my favorite CDs is the Gospel Gangstaz / Exodus! To all "The Fighting Temptations", check out their song: He Still Loves Me! To all the "Dangerous Minds" who are asking, "How you goina save me from my life?" the answer is, I can’t. Yet, God can save you! But should you come and ask for help, I will not send you away, because you forgot to knock!

CHRISTIAN GANGSTER’S PRAYER My Hero, My Beloved, Saturate the Bloods, the Crips, the Folk and all that follow, With Your Holy Spirit, Your Manifested Power and Your Presence, Seal them Lord, with Your red, warm and living Blood; By Your Name, Break every curse, demonic seal and vow, that no strong- hold can resist, Pull the blinders down, causing eyes to see and turn; make their spirits yield. Inject their hearts with love, be their drug, addict them Lord, to You, Cause the hardest and the largest to melt like butter in Your hand, To know that they are thought of, more than grains of sand, One by one each hair is numbered, Your plans for them are grand, Look not on hate marred caskets, view the empty tomb of love, instead. Wash them, Lord, in Your Blood, erase the sting of pain, Take the stench of death away, the blood soaked clothes, the stains, Fire them with Your Passion, Lord, woo them to lay their weapons down, To lay them at the Cross, O Lord, that knows no gender, age or race, Where every one can be forgiven and enter heaven’s gates. AMEN