Here's a challenge from one human to another. It don't matter your race or creed, or what you consider to be right or wrong. Take five minutes look into the mirror and tell me what you see. I'm not talking looks, your body's as perfect now as it's ever gonna be. Ask yourself the hard questions and answer them looking at yourself in the eye. And I'm not talking the hard questions you'd let others know. I mean the hard questions; that only you know. Like have I lived up to my own standard. Take your time answering remember an ever earlier standard before the one compromise. If the you you are is substandard in heart to the you of your youth, have you not compromised? I'm not talking upgrades due to learning, I'm not talking money, sex, drugs, or whatever. We said we'd do better, we've done worse. It's not all your fault that you carry either; it's others. Either out of pity or wrong choice or a choice made by others you've carried that. I'm going to tell you my life in fair detail; the truth of my life. I'll spare you boring details that aren't important. You may agree with me or disagree, either way is cool with me. Disagreement is normal for me. I don't care if you believe me it's my story, just like your life is your story. I don't know how much of my story I can tell you without you hating me. Not that I would blame you; I've hated myself. My story began in Lewiston Idaho on a warm summer night in July of 1986. I was born prematurely by a little over a month. Little did I know that would kinda be the theme of my life; jumping headlong into things I wasn't ready for. For the first month of my life my mother couldn't even hold me. I was kept alive in an incubator and all my mother could do was watch and pray I survived. Many times in my life I'd think back to that incubator and wish I didn't survive. My family was like night and day from my mother's side and my father's side. My father's side of the family was all about making a good appearance. They regularly attended the United Pentecostal Church and were very good at putting on a good face; in public. They were all about rigorous rules, good eating habits, and gossip. It was pretty normal to hear them bad mouth anyone they didn't agree with. They condemned any use of any controlled substance but it was no secret that they did it in secret. In other words they were professional hypocrites. Guys couldn't have long hair, earrings, tattoos and even when casual should look very presentable. My mother's side were hard working no BS hillbillies who in spite of having many flaws they didn't try to hide it. My grandpa would regularly have a coffee royal every morning and although I didn't know what he meant half the time he talked a lot about Mary Jane who I assumed was an aunt I hadn't met. They were into hunting, fishing, mechanics, camping, hard rock, and a lot of alcohol. That's just to give you an idea of the interesting family ties. My first memory was in a run down old church with wooden chairs, rough carpet, and water stains on the ceiling. Old hymns played with old instruments echoed through the sanctuary. The pastor was a very good older gentlemen who truly followed God. But he kinda reminds me now of Moses, a good leader leading a bunch of hypocrites and only liked by two and hated yet respected by the rest. I was about four years old coloring in a sword in the stone coloring book listening to him preach. He talked about the Gospel in a loving way as if his old tried lips savored every word. He quoted Jesus saying unless you become like a little child you'll miss the point of the Gospel. Then he quoted the famous John 3:16 "for God so loved the world that He gave His only Son. That whosoever believes in Him will not die but have everlasting life." It was at that moment that I believed for the first time. And I think that in spite of being very young that's the reason I kept going. Cause honestly especially in the next few years to come I may have died if I didn't. And it was this first belief that helped me hang on tight so I could see just what they meant by amazing Grace. My thoughts were honestly quite lofty even then; I was so sure God was going to work miracles through me. At five years old my parents fought a lot, not physically (usually) but there was a lot of yelling. Silly me I thought it was normal and I didn't know divorce existed. Until one night I woke up to my dad coming at my mom with a butcher knife. Luckily he seen me and put the knife down but mom disappeared after that. Not permanently thank God and I understand now why. So I tried to relate to my dad, but he kinda was the kind that didn't relate. If I wanted to do anything with him I had to do what he wanted. Thus I got into pro wrestling, in particular Hulk Hogan. This is also how I got into football. After some time my father left our big red apartment and moved in with his folks. Thus my first real nightmare began.