I grew up poor on the east side of Detroit, in a small, crowded home shared by my four sisters, cousins, aunts, and anyone else who didn’t have a place to go. We often slept in the same room, sometimes in the same bed, because there wasn’t enough space or money. Food, clothes, and stability were never guaranteed, but one thing was—we stuck together. We didn’t have much, but we had each other.
My grandmother was a missionary and made sure we attended church regularly. Church was one of the few places that felt safe and consistent. At home, things were very different. My dad was mostly absent, in and out of jail, and deeply involved in the drug trade. He had a respected name in the streets, but he wasn’t present as a father. I watched other kids get guidance, protection, and affirmation from their dads, while I learned early on how to fend for myself and not expect much.
When I was five years old, my four-year-old sister died during surgery. She never came home, and our family was shattered. My mom was overwhelmed with grief and fell deeper into addiction, and my dad disappeared entirely into the streets. At that age, I didn’t understand loss— I just knew home no longer felt like home.
As the years passed, poverty and instability shaped my choices. By the time I was twelve, I was already exposed to alcohol, drugs, and survival on the streets. I started hustling just to help get by and quickly fell into selling drugs, drinking, and gang life. I was searching for belonging, protection, and worth—things I never received from my father or the broken environment in which I grew up.
“Seeing the joy on my praying grandmother’s face reminds me that God truly hears every prayer.”
Even then, my grandmother kept me in church. Sitting in those pews, I felt something different—hope, peace, and the sense that I was made for more. But I also felt unworthy, believing God couldn’t accept someone living the double life I was living.
As I got older, the streets consumed me. I wore a tough exterior but inside I was still that scared little boy who never felt chosen. After moving to Green Bay, my addiction grew worse. Jail, drugs, and alcohol became my routine. I hit rock bottom more than once.
God eventually stopped me in my tracks, and I gave my life to Christ. I married, had a daughter, and believed things would finally be different. But when my mom passed away, I turned back to addiction instead of God. I lost my family and spent years trapped in darkness, even after trying multiple treatment programs.
At my lowest point, a pastor reached out and pointed me to Adult & Teen Challenge of Northeastern Wisconsin. I made the call—and that decision changed my life.
Since entering the program, everything has changed. I’m closer to God than I’ve ever been. My health is restored, my relationships with my daughters are being healed, and my family is filled with gratitude. Seeing the joy on my praying grandmother’s face reminds me that God truly hears every prayer.
Today, I know I’m walking in God’s purpose. believe He’s calling me to teach, preach, and help others who grew up like I did find the hope and freedom I found through Christ at Adult & Teen Challenge Northeastern Wisconsin.