THE REAL NAMES OF PERSON’S OTHER THAN MYSELF HAS BEEN CHANGED TO PROTECT THEIR IDENTIFICATIONS

 

 

I am but one of the living witnesses of Yah's protection. There is a saying, "Yah takes care of fools and babies", and it is indeed true. Hmmm, where should I begin?

 

    There were two special things about my birth. One, I wasn't born alone. I have a twin sister, who's just 5 minutes younger than I. And two, if it hadn't been for Yah, I wouldn't have made it at all.

Mama locked herself in the bathroom, leaving herself alone with what I now know as evil spirits. They persuaded her to begin shooting drugs into her impregnated body. Noticing she was in there a little longer than she should have, my Aunt kicked in the door. After noticing what she was doing she realized she couldn't go to work and leave mama home alone. So she took her to the hospital. And there she stayed until May 26, 1987, when we were born.

Childhood began in the system. I spent the first years of my life in the foster care system until finally they sought fit to return me to my mom; which continued my stay inside the system, better known as Chicago's south side Robert Taylor projects. 

 

Mom had her own apartment now in the project building, but nothing had changed. She was still using and I could remember being home alone with my two other siblings, referred to in this story as  twin and Brother. We have another sister too, now referred to in this story as Sister, but we didn't really know her. She would come around every holiday or whatnot, but she lived with her "god mother". Now, she was my mothers child, mama actually gave birth to her, but she didn't live with us. A lot of talk has come up on how that came to be, but my mom is a sweet woman. She's the sweetest woman you'll ever get to meet, and funny! That lady will have you rolling! (LOL) And despite her addiction, she loved her children. When she wasn't influenced by those demons she did everything with us. That being, I don't think she'll just give her child away. Just give her baby girl up to someone else; I know that was not the case. 

 

But getting back to my original point, most times we were home alone. I remember I used to sit on the couch and rock back and forth until mama came home. Those demons were so strong, that sometimes she came home with men, and traded sexual favors with them for drugs in front of us. I remember sitting on the couch in the living room watching as she sucked a man down in the open kitchen. I'm telling you, when demons take a hold of you, you’re not the person you were before. People have to understand, demons can make you do anything they want you to do, if not put in their place immediately by rebuking them in the name of Yah, through the messiYah Yahoshua. But if you don't know Yah and Yahoshua, how can you rebuke those evil spirits? The project building themselves was a home for demons. No human being deserves to live under the conditions that existed within the project building. We literally lived in filth. Rats and roaches were abundant and violence prevailed. I remember being escorted home from school during a gang war. Bullets literally flying over our heads. So, in the summer of 1996, when my Aunt came over and said we were moving out the projects, we were ecstatic

 

THE CAR ACCIDENT

Life is funny, one minute I'm outside playing with my friends and the next I'm rolling off the top of a car.

'Da da da da, da da da da, da da da da da da don........pop goes the weasel!' The ice cream truck sang down the street as we made it in front of the house. Remembering I had money I said, ‘hold my stuff Twin I'm bout to go get some ice cream right quick.' 'No  c'mon, mama said to come in the house”, complained Twin. 'Ok I'm coming!' I yelled.

 

While running across the street I looked both ways. But I must have been too late because the white car to my right sped right along dragging my tiny body along with it. I was told that I flew in the air and landed on top the hood of this stranger’s car. But all I remember is rolling from the top of the car, sliding down the window, and unto the ground. I don't remember hearing any screams, any cries, and not even the ice cream truck songs playing in the background, although I was told this all took place. I lay on the ground surrounded by silence and I felt no pain. It's as if my body went into shock. (But I now know that was Yah protecting me.) Then out of no where my ears opened up and I heard voices saying to pick me up. As my eyes followed the man approaching me, my brain screamed 'No! No, don't pick me up! I want to lay here!' But my mouth didn't move as it felt like my heart had stopped and I couldn't breathe when the man picked me up. I literally could not breathe when he lifted me off the ground. Feeling cold and damp in what turned out to be grass I was now laying in, my heart got to pumping blood and I could breathe again. This is when I felt a sharp piercing pain in my right leg. I looked and for the first time I saw a thigh blown up twice the size of mine. 'No, I thought. This thigh couldn't be mine!' But it was brown like mine and as I connected the pain realized, 'This thigh is mine!' As I turned to my left, a lady (the one who hit me) was squeezing my hand pleading about how sorry she was. All my feeling had come back so I felt how hard she was squeezing and how sorry she really was! Too afraid of death to cry, with no tears in my eyes I silently prayed, (being ten years old and not knowing Yah at the time) I said, 'Lord please don't let me die, please don't let me die!' I recited this over and over in my head as I looked at this huge crowd of people.

 

When I awoke from my surgery, I was in a more comfortable room with a hospital gown on. From a little above my knee to the end of my thigh was staples. As tears welled in my eyes I counted, twenty-four. Twenty-four staples lay holding my skin together. I went home on a walker. And I'll never forget that because people have died from being hit by cars. I was very small then, I was the skinniest little girl ever. That car could have cracked me in half, had it not been for Yah.

 

ANOTHER MOVE

After less than a year  it seemed that out the blue we were moving. I didn't know it then, but it was because we were getting put out. But Auntie did a good job at making us; children think it was because we just wanted to. We had visited Milwaukee once before, and it was fun. So when asked if we wanted to stay there (as if we had a choice) we readily accepted. Big mistake. It is here where the struggle for survival really took a turn

We moved into a great house. Our first house and we thought it was huge! We enrolled in school and everything was fine until when I started noticing things were slowing down. My clothing and shoes started to last longer than they should have. Next thing I know, I was flooding and getting teased daily at school. The kids were very mean to me. I hated boys because they always made it a point to tell me how ugly I was, and the girls, well, no one ever put their hands on me. But they made it clear I was not liked, and for a 10 year old, that means a lot.

Next thing I know, one thing led to another and Auntie was leaving. She had packed her bags and said she was moving to Alabama. We didn't know why and she didn't tell us, she just said it’s not because of us kids. This is where my anger started getting stronger. See, Auntie, she was the reason we had that house. My mom didn't work and neither did her daughter. So how did she expect us to keep going on after she left? I guess the thought never really crossed her mind because she left. And her daughter left too, she went back to Chicago. So now you have my mom alone in a big house, with four kids and no way to take care of them. I remember countless times, being home alone again. And our Sister, who was just eleven at the time, having to fix us dinner. We lived out the rest of our days in that house until they put us out.

 

Now, my Aunt Z lived in the city, and she knew our situation, but she would not take us in. We were homeless on the street and the only person she wanted to take in was Brother. Because he was getting checks every month because some people thought he was "slow". She just wanted him because of his money, and because people had a knack for taking advantage of my mom, he ended up living with her after all. So, while he stayed with her and her sons, Twin, Mama, Sister, and I resided at a woman's shelter. Can you believe that? The only family we had in the city would not take us in. The scripture "money is the root of all evil", I know first hand. It’s what broke my family apart.

 

The shelter was like a huge gym room with twin sized beds everywhere. And along the walls were bump bed sets. That's where we set up shop. Every morning around 6 am we would have to get up. Take our showers, eat breakfast, and wherever it was we needed to do for the day had to be done between after breakfast and let's say about 9:00pm. It was a women's shelter so just like a jail is run, the shelter was run. We were still in school but we had no clothing like the other students had. There was not a uniform policy, so it was noticeable that we wore the same things over and over again. We were clean, but just had to wear the same thing. Our shoes were old and our clothes were worn out. So of course we were teased. For some reason it seemed I was teased the most.

Nevertheless, I would go sit by myself at a table because I knew I was being made fun of. Especially since the school made it a point to announce that we rode the shelter bus. See, when we lived at the house, the school was so far away we needed to take a school bus. But when we were at the shelter, the shelter had their very own bus for us to ride to school in. Like I said, it was very much like a prison system. This pushed me to my limit
I disliked life very much. I did not understand how people could struggle so much. I didn’t understand the curses. Simply put, I didn’t understand Yah. And so I disguised a plan to get rid of myself because of it.
My teacher said that I needed to go and see the school psychologist. And I had to do this daily. But  I didn't tell her too much of anything. I think my name is about all she had written on that paper. I had bottled up all my feelings and anger, and everything, into my heart, and no one could get to it. The only thing I was concerned about was my mom. I didn't want her to think I didn't love her.

 

Our time at the shelter ended. And we went this time to stay with cousin J, Z's sister. And she was a lesbian. J and her lover had nothing to hide, they often engaged in sexual behavior right there in the house, where we were present. The only thing we could do was close the door, to close out somehow the abominations. I know my mom was hurt we had to be apart of that.

 

J had a daughter as well. She was 16 years old. Twin and I was still 10, and Sister was11.  J’s daughter as it turned out, was a thief. And she taught us how to steal as well.  We would rack up on new clothes. We also stole food. Because in J’s house was also drugs, so no one really thought about eating. We would go into Walgreen's and get chips and candy bars all the time. Not necessarily food, but it tied us over. It got so bad; we stole when we didn't have too! We thought it was fun, and we had the things we needed. But I can tell our stealing habits were taking a toll on J’s daughter. She would sometimes look at us with that, "Now why'd you have to take that & you had money", look. She didn't like what she created.

 

It finally came time for us to move out of J’s house, and into someone else’s home. This time it was an uncle. This is a man who had a reputation for child molestation. So, here we were, all women, moving in with a man who took joy in having sex with young girls.  We only moved in with him because we had been put out again. J got tired of supporting us I guess. (If you’d call that support) And that man was her Father, the only one left we could live with in the city. He's also the man who molested J as a child. This in turn might've contributed to her thinking becoming a lesbian was the right thing to do. He molested her sister, Z as well. And he attempted to molest my other cousin, Auntie's daughter but wasn't successful. But Yah is good. Because the whole time we had to live with him, he never molested us. Three girls, and a woman, and he never put a finger on us. HalleluYah! Our stay with him was short as well, because when my Aunt's daughter, my cousin he attempted to molest found out we stayed there, she was on a greyhound bus back to get us. For fear he'll try the same with us. But I was sad, because once again my mom was left out. She'd talked to me the day before and said we were going out to McDonald’s to talk. Just me and her. But that day never came. Not because she didn't keep her word, but because we had to go. I was sad that bus ride back to Chicago. McDonald’s doesn’t mean anything to me, but I really looked forward to that talk. Furthermore, mama wasn't riding back with us. Brother was though, my cousin made sure to get him, because he came with a check.

 

When we were back in Chicago, our new home was again, not ours. This time we stayed with the grandmother of my cousin’s son. The stay there was cool.  But soon we were moving again. This time we moved with my cousin's friend. (It was the summer time so for now we didn't have to worry about school.) It was fun for a short spell. Having someone to play with.  So it was fun, until we got hungry and found there was no food to eat. And no one around to buy. So we disguised a plan that was dangerous, but it guaranteed food. My cousin had a male friend, who was a cab driver. He was real cool and we knew him. So Sister called him and asked if he can drop me, her, Twin, and brother off at her “god mothers” house. He said yes, and so we left. This is a grown man I remind you. And there was no adult with us. Brother was fourteen, sister was twelve, and tiwn and I had just turned eleven. But we were hungry. Again Yah was there to protect us, because we arrived at our destination safely, and free of charge. So the “god mama” took care of us once they all found out. Mama had come back too. I don't know how. I don't know when. But she was back. She lived there too. But only for a little while. Before school started back we were moving again. Not sister though, and not brother. Sister, the “god mama” considered her child. And brother, well, we all know that story, he came with a check. So once again, twin and I were on the move. The “god mama” found out our grandmother lived just down the street. This was our new home. Don't know where mama went though. I remember lying on grandma's couch with tears in my eyes as I overheard the “god mama” explain to my grandma how she didn't want to care for us anymore.

Once again we were being thrown away. I cried that whole night. Twin was already asleep, so she didn't hear the conversation. But I did. I heard lots of stuff. I knew what people thought of my mom, and I didn't like it. I knew that my cousin J liked other girls. And I knew people only liked brother because of his money. I didn't like that people thought he was slow. I heard all conversations. So, I wasn't your average eleven year old. I didn't have time to just have fun, and be a kid. I was too busy simply, trying to survive. I don't think anyone knows of that conversation, but me and my grandma. This lady basically said she didn't want us anymore because of our mom.

I hated it there. Oh how I cried. I couldn't understand how one family could suffer so much. Why us? I would think? Why did our family have to struggle? Not knowing at the time of the curses that exist in Ysrayl. Not understanding that almost all Hebrew or "black" families suffered just the same.

 

Grandma took us to school when it came back around.  And I'll never forget when I met my daddy.
My dad's sister, my aunt, told us daddy lived just down the street. I was nervous to see him.
We visited daddy on a daily basis. It was almost as if we lived there with them. We spent the next Christ-mess there. Until mama came to get us. And we went to what would be our next home.

 

We was taken out of the sixth grade in the middle of the school year, and placed in another school. We stayed with our cousins. They were the closest to us and we had fun there. We ate well and they even enrolled us in a park district program. Twin, our little cousin and I danced. We did all kinds of dances. We tapped danced, did "African" dances, back bends and stuff, we were athletic. We even competed in competitions.

But, we had so much fun that we failed the sixth grade! Nobody asked about school too much. Homework came up, but only seldom. After school we would go to the park district to dance, then our cousin and her husband would pick us up at dark. And because we failed, daddy came to get us. We would now live with him. He didn’t like how we failed the sixth grade, but we should have been living with him in the first place. He knew of my mother’s habit. In fact, he helped her to develop it, but he was fortunate enough to part from this demon, whereas she was not. But, we were transferring to our now, sixth school. At Scott Joplin we repeated the sixth grade.

 

 I loved step-mama.  With all of my mom's mishaps, that my set-mom seemed to fill in, it could never compare to the love I had for my mom. Who by the way had been missing during this time. I was still an angry child. I would cuss up the storm. Sometimes taking my anger out on people who didn't deserve it, like step-mama. This is around the time I began to write. I was twelve years old. I wrote poetry, and short stories. But I still locked a lot of anger in my heart. And nobody had the key. So I thought. When I think back on the experience I had there with my dad and his wife. And I look back on my life now. I see it as something Yah wanted me to go through. As if he was preparing me for a life similar. Where I'd be with someone who also has two little girls. Isn't Yah brilliant?

 

ALMOST TWO YEARS LATER, MOM IS STILL GONE AND DADDY IS SICK....

My paternal Sister, (daddy's eldest daughter) came to visit from Mississippi. And when she went back, twin and I went with. It was a great vacation. Except for one thing. Couple weeks  later, we got a phone call.
July 28, 2000, daddy dies of cancer. We went back to Chicago on the grey hound bus. To this day I don't know what kind of cancer he had. But it wasn't just cancer. I remember laying in bed at home, before we went to Mississippi. And the ambulance had to come get him. They asked step-mama, what was wrong. She said Cancer. They said anything else. She said, "Let's go out in the hallway, away from the kids." (lol, she knew I was awake.)

 

August 28th was the funeral. I remember sitting in the limousine upset with everybody in there except my twin sister, and my dad's son, my brother. Because all everyone else talked about was who his things would go to. Who'd have his car, and his clothes, and his this, and his that!  Even Step-mama was in the conversation. I was disgusted! For some reason, everybody thought he had money stashed away, which would of course go to us. But that man aint have nothing but debt! It's like that song by the temptations; all he left us was a loan! (LOL) But everyone thought otherwise.

So the family began to play tug-a-war with the twins. Everybody wanted us to stay with them now. No one was innocent. Even granny was in on it. They may not admit it now, but like I said, I knew almost everything that went on around me. Even before daddy died, my older sister, his very own daughter, was calling around while we were in Mississippi, tryna enroll us in a school down there! I wish I could say that it was because she knew daddy was going to die, and wanted to take care of us and maybe that was the reason, but I have a hard time believing that was the case.  They were a little too geeked that day on the ride to his funeral. And be the main one's falling all out. Stop it! Please spare me the dramatics!

 

MOM RETURNS.....

About a week after the funeral, two very familiar people woke me up out of my sleep. The first was my mom. Out of no where she was back. And she looked great! The other person was my Aunt.  As it turns out, she had been clean for about 6 months now. She looked so good. But they were there to take us away from step-mama. And since her and daddy wasn't legally married, there was nothing she could do. That was a sad moment. We all cried.

 

With all this anger still stored in my heart, I would lash out. My mouth was as unclean as swine. The scripture that reads "Honor thy mother and father"; I really take to heart now, because I was not that person. I was very disrespectful when it came to my mouth. I eventually ran away from home for the second time. After the police brought me back, I never did it again. All because I saw the look of sadness on mom's face.

 

TEENAGE YEARS
I lashed out a lot during my teenage years. My family would often talk about how I needed anger management. My Aunt tried to talk with me a few times. Asking me why I was so upset all the time. And when I told her I didn't know, it was obvious I needed help. (I didn’t know for real. I was internally searching for a truth I didn’t know existed) But of course my family didn’t understand that and since they couldn't afford to send me to a shrink, they dealt with me the best way they could. I would get into fist fights with my aunt, and I thought about running away again, but I thought about my mom, so I didn't. That didn't stop me from sneaking out the house though. I did this for a while without being caught. But despite my behavior, I was a good student. My grades would often overshadow my behavior when it came to company. Auntie loved to brag about how good twin and I was in school. Entering high school, it was recommended I take all advanced courses.

I didn't get involved in any extra curricular activities like my siblings.   I didn't do anything. I couldn't dance, so I didn't join the pom pom team. I actually tried out for cheer leading with my best friend at the time, but it was lame, so I quit. I was told I was an excellent runner, so I tried track for a while, but I eventually quit that too.But I did join a poetry group. They taught students how to write poems and express themselves on paper. This kept me sane. I didn't even go to the games or anything. I didn't go to homecoming. I don't know that stuff just wasn't interesting. I know Yah had to be with me, because I'd often wish I did some of those things. Sometimes I wished I was more like the other students. I knew in my heart I didn't enjoy that stuff because it didn't seem like something we were supposed to be doing. This world is corrupt, everything in it is a distraction to hide its corruptiveness, and I knew it, even then. I think it’s safe to say, that with everything I'd been through and experienced, nothing was fun, or let's just say, nothing surprised me anymore. So I thought.

I'll never forget this day. I was seventeen years old, a junior in high school.  I came home from school. And my brother, now twenty years old and out of high school. He ushered for me to come downstairs in the basement. When I did, he said, he just got through from talking to Auntie. She was crying, because she'd just found out, that mama, was HIV positive.

By this time she had already started back using. But you never expect something like this. The saddest thing was that, she'd had it for some time, but didn't tell anyone. She was embarrassed so she kept it to herself. But what she didn't do was throw away the papers, and that's what Auntie had found. I felt, I felt sad, but I didn't cry. It didn't really hit home until I saw all the medication she had to take. Monday through Sunday. Sunday through Monday she was taking medication. She and Auntie went back and forth to doctor's visits. People began to treat her different. I had taken health in school, so I knew it wasn't contagious. I remember one incident that happened though that had us all scared.

 

Mama woke everyone up out of their sleep, crying. She sounded like she was in great pain. Like she was throwing up. When we went to her bedroom to see what was wrong, she was in deed throwing up, but she was throwing up blood. A grocery bag filled with blood. Coming from her nose and mouth. We were all crying, we were all scared. We called the ambulance and she was rushed to the hospital. That was the first of many visits to the hospital. One of the reasons she was so sick in the beginning was that she was still getting high, despite her disease. After a while after high school, my sister and Auntie got into a real big argument and fight. And after that Auntie was leaving again. This time she would move to Georgia. Mama was getting social security and brother was still getting his checks so the bills would get paid this time. But who would do it now that Auntie was gone? That is where I come in. She left me the responsibility to do everything.

 

GROW UP! FAST! 

I had to grow up real quick. I had to go down to the social security office, and become both my mom, and my brother's payee. That means, the checks would no longer come in my Aunt's name, but in mine. And when they did, I had to cash both checks. Separate the rent, gas, lights, and phone bill money. Make sure everything got paid on time. And give my mom what was left to spend on her. Same with my brother. Only this time he had a lot more to spend to himself because Auntie would usually take his money and spend it on cigarettes and drinks. And since I didn't do either, he got a chance to enjoy what was rightfully his. I also had to shop.

 I went to the grocery store every month with my mom's link card and bought food. I bought household items as well. Then, if that wasn't enough for a 19 year old to handle, I had to make sure mama had bus fare to get to her doctors visits, and make sure she was taking her medicine. Plus I went to school. After high school I enrolled at Chicago State University full time. I even had classes on Saturdays. Balancing study time and taking care of my family became too much. And eventually my hair began to come out from stress. I would often envy the girls I saw coming to class with cell phones and the hottest clothes, bragging about their jobs. I disliked them because they had no responsibility whatsoever. I was jealous because they were able to be young and have a “life”. Their mothers had good paying jobs so they took care of them, not the other way around. I hoped it would all end soon, and I could be the young worry free teenager I never got a chance to be, but the next set of events proved it would not.

 

Auntie had died. She had a heart attack while taking a shower. It got extra hard after that because you had the jealous adults who would say that I was spending my mother’s money. People came over to the house and did whatever it is they wanted to do. And I couldn't control the chaos. Who was listening to a nineteen year old girl? On top of that, my boyfriend was becoming possessive. He was a very jealous boy, and it began to show. (Dragging me down the stairs, pushing and choking me up to walls, e.c.t) But Yah is good. I'll never forget the first day I saw the man that would later become my husband.

The end of the semester was fastly approaching and although I was not ready to plunge head first into another relationship, I was afraid I'll never see this man again. So when Moshe, wrote me a little note, (because we always wrote each other little notes in class, back and forth), telling me he would love to be in a relationship with me, I happily accepted what I knew was the beginning of something very special. This was going to be a different experience because he also had two daughters. And I had never dated anyone with children before. It always ended badly I heard because of the mother of that child. But I look back on my experience with a step mom, and how she loved us, despite our mother's flaws. When I look back on her discipline, her strength, I think about how strong I can be with these girls. And how I can make a difference in their life. Especially since their moms are rebellious to Yah's truth. But I can show them how to be a woman, teach them that a real woman is a woman of Yah. That a real woman puts Yah first. Then they'll have that balance, because Moshe can teach them what it means to be a real man. That it doesn’t have anything to do with his pocketbook, but how strong he is in Yah. So when they choose their husbands, they know what to look for in a man.

So I took a risk, I trusted us. And it turned out to be something very positive in my life.

 

GETTING TO KNOW YAH........

   During our relationship Moshe would often mention Yah as our creator and something about Hebrew Israelites. But being stiff necked, I didn't really pay it a mind. I didn't believe in believing in something because someone else did. And so, I continued to live my life according to how I always have. When thanksgiving rolled around I happily accepted the invitation to my family's thanksgiving party. And when Christ-mess rolled around I happily went to my sisters’ house to celebrate. But my conscious was eating away at me. I knew this was not right because I'd been told it was not right. But still, I was rebellious. Until, one day, on Moshe’s old computer he gave to me, I was sitting at home, when I was still staying with my mom, and I seen something very interesting. Saved to the computer was a document entitled, Christ-Mess, from a website hebrewisraelites.org.

 

And when I read that, Yah had opened my eyes. I couldn't believe what I was reading about Christmas. So I went to the website from where it came. And I read the message to Christians, the message to Muslims, the message to Black Nationalist, Afro-centrics and I read and I read and I read, and I couldn't believe it. I was so excited at this knowledge I had run across, so I ran and told my family. They were not impressed. And because I didn't understand Yah at that moment, I remember not understanding how they couldn't see what I had seen. It was as if they weren't reading the same words I was reading.

 

And I remember being so shocked because I'm like look! Don't you guys see what this says? Aren't you reading it? How can you not understand it? So I went back and I downloaded some words of the week to a flash drive so I can put it on my computer which does not have the internet. I remember all I did was listen to the words of the week and read the info on the website. I mean I was hooked, like good dope.

 

I remember when I first announced I wasn't celebrating holidays anymore. It began with Christ-mess. New Years was approaching and they were taking down the tree. I stood there looking at it. Kinda like investigating it. Then thinking back on what the document said about it. I was like, well, I'm not celebrating Christmas anymore. At first I just said Christmas to see what they were gonna say. They looked at me, and had the nerve, to smack they lips and say, "how you not gone celebrate Christmas, all these kids we got."
What went through they're minds, was the fact that Moshe didn't celebrate holidays, so they thought that's why I didn't either. I was hurt. I never celebrated holidays again. I didn't care that they thought, or still do think I'm not doing it for myself. All that mattered to me was my salvation, and my life, and my being after this life is over.

 

I didn't want to tell them about my walk anymore. Instead I decided to lead by example. Who would take anyone seriously if they didn't practice what they preached?  Every since that day, I have not celebrated one holiday. Including birthdays. On my 21st birthday, I got on my knees and I praised Yah for allowing me to see another year. Because if you know better you have to do better. You find out your favorite food has poison in it, are you gonna still eat it? Or are you going to educate yourself on it and stop? I've gotten distant from my family since then. Yah has definitely protected me from a lot of things. I am truly blessed to have come into this walk when I did.

 

Yah pulled me out of the fire before I got burned. I've never smoked weed or cigarettes, after seeing my mom, I was always afraid to smoke anything. I told my self that because of her addiction, I didn't want to smoke at all. Never been much of a drinker. I've never been to a club, never got any tattoos, and I never got a chance to vote. I was always too young to do any of these things, and when I finally got of age, Yah had already pulled me from the flames. So all I have left to say is halleluYah, praise you Yah! 

 

And if I die today, or tomorrow, I won't be afraid. Because I know I have lived my life according to what thus says Yah, and not what thus says man. No matter what my stiff necked genetic family may have said, because they've said some hurtful things, and no matter what they are saying, I know I have believed in Yah, through the messiYah Yahoshua to the very best of my ability. I have changed my life for Yah's truth. My entire world revolves around this. I put my life on the line for it. My whole existence is built on my relationship with the most high, and I'll die for it. I have never been so happy in all my life. My anger is gone, and I have a family, a real Hebrew family. And before I go back to my past lifestyle, I'll die. I'll die before I turn my back on Yah, and the messiYah Yahoshua. For my life shall be given back to me because of it.

 

AND THAT IS THE END OF MY TESTIMONY, SHALOM.