Jerry: Escape from Fate

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     When my mom and dad fought, I would push between them and beg, "Stop it!" Several times, Mom picked up a loaded pistol and went out back to put an end to the craziness and misery. I'd follow her begging, "Don't do it. I love you. We need you." I talked with her as long as it took to convince her to live and continue as my mother. Sometimes, it took twenty minutes of my tearful pleas.

     Once after an intense fight, I heard a shot from the backyard. My heart sank as I rushed into the yard, dreading what I expected to find. My mom had fired the shot into the air. Traumatized, I persuaded her to put away the gun.

 

Not Like Our Parents

     "We're not going to be like our parents," my cousins agreed. Not all of them were cousins, but kids thrown together while our motorcycle gang parents partied. The adults drank heavily, fought and took drugs on evenings during the week and throughout the weekend.

     The "cousins" shared a common bond of neglect and dysfunctional parents. The adults kept us up late on school nights and made a lot of noise even after we went to bed. We craved attention from our parents, but they were more concerned with their fun than doing what it took to raise children. Unfortunately, their fun involved family-destructive behaviors.

     Our house served as the "party house." Drunks and druggies argued and fought in the house and on the front lawn. Glass ashtrays flew through the air and furniture broke into pieces.

     Weekends, the families partied at the lake. The cousins played while our parents sat around the fire drinking and taking drugs.

     Often, kids can't wait to participate in adult activities. Instead of looking forward to partying like our parents, we cousins had no intention of imitating those kinds of behaviors.

 

Rare Attention

     My dad seldom took me anywhere, but when I was 11 he invited my two sisters and I out to eat. It thrilled me to get by his personal attention, but at the restaurant the purpose of his attention brought me down hard.

             Dad told us, "It's not working out." He announced he was moving out of the house and in with his girlfriend. Deeply hurt, I searched for answers. Doesn't it matter how we feel? Don't they care about us?

     My dad moved back in with the family after a year, but a pattern of separating and getting back together continued through my middle school years. With each separation, Mom and Dad attempted to convince us to take sides against the other. They pressured us to choose one of them.

     Life wasn't much better for Jerry's cousins. One of them lived with us after his dad went to prison and his mom killed herself.

     My dad served several stints in prison as well. When he wasn't locked up, he continually let me down. Dad would tell me to expect him at my little league baseball games, but seldom showed up -- even when he coached the team. I couldn't bring new friends home because I couldn't predict what they might see--a big fight or illegal activities which might get my parents in trouble.

     Ashamed of my dad and my family situation, I promised myself, "I never want my kids to experience these things. I'm going to be a better parent." I made up my mind to find a good wife and raise my kids right.

 

Just Like Their Parents

     Drugs became part of the life of the cousin who stayed with us. He hadn't been able to hold a job and has fathered two children with girlfriends.

     The other cousins got involved with drugs in high school and continued the lifestyle afterwards. Imitating their parents' behaviors they formerly abhorred, they began partying during the week. Weekends, they went to the lake where they sat around the fire drinking and drugging.

     My older sister began to take and sell drugs, just like our dad. Continuing another family tradition, she spent time in prison. She bore six children, all of whom grew up in different homes. Only one of her children completed high school. Three have dropped out, so far. Two weeks ago, one of her sons attempted suicide. Her children want to do better, but seem unable to pull it off.

     My younger sister had two children, neither of which she was able to raise. She later married and divorced.

 

"This is Not What I Want to Do"

     It felt like my destiny to fall-in with family and friends. Everyone around me lived in the alcohol/drug culture. The only girls I knew partied hard. Even though I didn't participate with them, I found myself surrounded by it. Some nights, my dreams showed me a future of immersing myself in that routine. In spite of my best efforts to escape that way of life, it appeared to be my fate.

     My cousins finally persuaded me to smoke marijuana. They were pleased to see me break down after holding out for so long. They welcomed me to their traditions and felt relieved after hearing me say I would never take drugs (just like they used to say), and seeing me resist all those years.

     Afterwards, I told myself, "You know, I'm not going to do this. I'm not going down this road."

     One weekend, my young nephew came to stay with me. He told me, "Grandma usually takes my sister to church Sunday mornings. I wish someone would take me."

     I recalled a small a bus used to pick up my sisters and me and take us to Sunday School. Nice adults drove the bus and talked with me at church. They even gave me a Bible. I couldn't read it at the time, but I kept it on my bedroom desk, like an important trophy.

 

A Life Defining Moment

     "I'll take you to church," I told my nephew." I not only took my nephew, but attended the services myself. That decision became a defining moment in my life.

     My epiphany involved an understanding that I couldn't do what I wanted to do solely on willpower. I needed to separate myself from my friends and even my family on occasions when they drank and took drugs. I dedicated myself to reading and studying God's Word and Christian books.

     I realized my focus had been all about putting out the effort to avoid becoming sucked into my family’s and friends' culture. It had been tough. I'd spent many lonely times, sitting home alone, struggling to stand firm. Then, I got it -- that wasn't going to be enough.

     Instead of refusing to give in, I dedicated myself to serving God by serving people who needed help. So it became about impacting other people rather than all about me. At the same time, it made my life better.

     I volunteered as a camp counselor and church youth group helper. On mission trips to Mexico, I helped with construction projects, entertained children with puppet shows, played games with them and fed people. I joined a prison ministry even though I was really scared. People with problems accepted my counsel. I visited my sister in prison and my dad in the hospital.

     The youth pastor at church was my age and he let me hang out with him. He gave me a book that helped mold me into a strong, confident, caring man. Melody Green's No Compromise, a biography of her husband, portrayed Keith Green's compassion for people. He didn't let what others were doing affect him. He refused to compromise his dedication to serving God and people in need, even when he was the only one. Green's great effort helped struggling people succeed, serving as a model for the desires developing in my heart.

     Part of breaking free involved conversations with my then divorced mom and dad. I came to understand Mom and Dad didn't neglect us purposefully; they just didn't have the tools or have a clue how to make a family work. My dad just carried on the traditions of his alcoholic father.

     I confessed my hurts and anger and responded to their accusations and arguments with, "I'm not going to argue with you. I love you." Forgiving them did not take away my memories of hurting, nor their anger, but it released the tension between them and they chose to leave the pain of the past behind. Forgiving them stands out as a healing event for me and my relationship with my parents. They ended up respecting me for escaping their family history of dysfunction and trouble.

 

Living the Dream

     I did find a good wife and partner with her to raise our children. We are always nearby for our three kids. Adult cable channels are not available in our home. We've established behavioral and geographical boundaries for our children and we all interact with each other throughout the day. The children have a bedtime and quiet environment when they go to bed. All of these concepts were foreign for my childhood family.

     I credit a couple of families who gave me a glimpse of how functional families work. When I was young, one friend's parents provided a place where I could go and feel valued. They let me stay overnight and fixed me breakfast. I got a taste of normal family life.

     The second time my dad went to prison, I stayed with an aunt and uncle for a year. Living with and watching them gave me a model of parenting I later adopted.

     Early in our marriage, my anger problems sometimes surfaced. I immediately felt sorry after an outburst, telling myself, "My family deserves better than this." I realized I had to address my behavior right away. I spent a lot of time in prayer, petitioning God to remake me into a patient husband and father. I understood the angry lashing-out was not making the situation any better, but threatened to destroy my family. I couldn't continue to blame anyone and improve things. I accepted ownership of who I am as a human being and acknowledged my responsibility to become who I wanted to be.

     I tell myself, "Every day is a chance to do better than I did yesterday. Instead of holding onto the past, there's always a today to improve. Being sorry is not enough -- I don't have to live that way today. The decisions I make today define who I will be tomorrow.

 

 

Jerry’s Advice for Kids

●Find someone who’s doing things the right way and attach yourself to them.

 

●Be willing to listen to adults who are living life the way you would like to live it. Accept their wisdom.

 

●There’s nothing more powerful than having someone help you and show you the way. It greatly increases the chances of you doing it yourself.

 

Jerry’s Advice for Adults

●If you went down the wrong road, it wasn’t intentional. You have to be able to forgive yourself. You deserve forgiveness and your children deserve you to become the parent you hoped to have been earlier.

 

●Attach to people you look up to, especially those who overcame similar situations. Befriend them and connect with them and they can help you in the process of getting past your past

 

 

Jerry Mullins helped his father accept Christ as his Savior. His dad’s demeanorand attitude demonstrated joy and peace prior to his death. Jerry’s mother accepted Christ before she passed away as well, telling Jerry, “I don’t want to live this way any more.” She was a big part of both of Jerry’s sisters receiving new life through Christ. Jerry served as a full-time youth pastor for seventeen years.