Author Approved Excerpt
Chapter 1 WORLD WAR ME You have only two things in life: your image and your integrity. While I was a college student at Morehouse, one of my mentors expressed to me, “You have only two things in life: your image and your integrity.” Regrettably, I only listened to half of what he said. I digested the part on image but discarded the part about integrity. To the outside it would appear I had everything anyone would want. By thirtyfive, I had obtained a Bentley, two houses on the water and consistent appearances on several television networks—BET, TV One, and TBN. I was looked upon as one of the upcoming leaders in the community and profiled in magazines and newspapers. I led a dynamic ministry of ten thousand members, all in less than ten years. I also had a beautiful wife and gorgeous children, yet it was not enough. Money was never an issue, but I did have issues. I flew around the world; preached; lectured; taught in coliseums, arenas and convention centers; and conducted conferences. I do not know the exact day, time, or moment I made Author Approved Excerpt image a priority and integrity an accessory, but it happened. Nor did I realize I was in a war every person is required to face—the fight between image and integrity. Every war has a price, and the cost of my battle was extremely expensive, almost to the point of having to file emotional, spiritual and psychological bankruptcy. I lost the trust of an exceptional wife, compromised the confidence of the Christian community, blemished the foundation of a strong family name, and jeopardized my relationship with the Lord. By writing this story, it is my intent and aim to assist every person whose eyes touch these pages in obtaining an aerial view of the war you may not know you are in. When an alcoholic begins with Alcoholics Anonymous, the first step of the 12-step program is for the person to admit he has a problem. I admit the war never ends—every day is a struggle. Each day has within it a new battle. The good news is each day the war is winnable, but it is still war, and war many times has casualties. In this war, the casualties are divorce, debt, depression, distance, and disaster. In my war, I suffered all of these on the front line. I never participated in ROTC (Reserve Officer Training Course), went to boot camp, or served in the Armed Forces. It was never my experience to have a sergeant awaken me early in the morning with a whistle. I was never assigned to a platoon nor did I spend one night on a military base. Due to this lack of
training, I was neither able to recognize the war within me, and I didn’t know how to do battle against it. Immediate on-the-ground training was required if I was to survive. It is my hope that what took me years to learn; you will have a strong understanding of by the time you reach the end of this book. Afterword THE VETERANS HOSPITAL “The church is the only army that gets rid of its wounded soldiers.” Anonymous Recently, I heard an older preacher say, “The church is the only army that gets rid of its wounded soldiers.” Regrettably, in far too many instances, that has proven to be true. I’ll never forget an occasion I had to speak at the Veterans Hospital in the nation’s capitol. It was one of the most startling and inspiring moments in my ministry. Along the corridors, I passed people with missing limbs, eye bandages, wheelchairs, crutches, breathing devices, and body casts. The realization that all of them were wounded in battle fighting for the freedom of others is absolutely humbling. Their names weren’t in the paper, their pictures weren’t on CNN, they wore no medals on their chests, but they had absolutely Author Approved Excerpt no shame, guilt, or embarrassment. They were proud of what they were a part of and considered their sacrifice a labor of love. Before I spoke, the chaplain whispered to me, “Don’t feel sorry for them. They are soldiers! They may be wounded in body, but they are strong in spirit.” As I write this, I want you to know that I am a patient in the Veterans Hospital. God is still healing me as He is doing for many of you. You might not recognize me right now because I have on eye bandages due to my sin. I lost sight of my priorities, which were my family and my ministry. Some days I’ve been in a wheelchair going to the pulpit because I didn’t think I’d be able to stand, to speak on God’s behalf, or face the thousands who I disappointed. There are moments where I’ve hobbled along on crutches leaning on the wisdom of my mentors, the encouragements of my friends, and the prayers of my parents. Honestly, my limbs have all been intact but there were nights I woke up feeling like I had lost heart because depression was creeping in, anxiety was always around, and stress covered me like a blanket. The only thing that kept me alive was the breathing device of praise and worship. It was David that declared in Psalm 150:6, Let everything that has breath praise ye the Lord. Praise has sustained me when life has deflated me. Whatever you do, don’t feel sorry for me. I am a soldier. What I went through is not what the devil made me do. It was a lack of self-discipline, selfishness, and greed.