I was very little when I saw my biological father laid upon a mattress, a heroin needle in his arm, asleep. I was scared for him. I hated needles and I was especially afraid that it would break in his arm in his slumped over state.
My Irish grandma had come into the apartment within which she found her daughter, my mother, passed out on the couch. She, too, was in a state of illicit intoxication. I remember my grandma holding my little brother’s hand tightly with her left hand while holding my grandpa’s 38 in her right. She had scared off the riff raff inside that little spot. My grandma had last seen me in a battered state – I was a child in a circuit, not unlike chicken fights, but for children. She had determined to come with an unannounced visit from Ocala. Her ferocity was unquestionable. As we left with her, I remember a great deal of anger and yet, terror. I was concerned for my mother’s well being and I felt a shame for my father.
When we got into her little home, my grandma was methodical, militant, and organized. She did not let us dwell on that from which we were saved. She explained the chores she expected. She explained that my uncle planned to visit us with our two female cousins that summer. She had a schedule. We would not think about the past, because it is what it is.
One night, I told my grandma that I was sad for my mother and worried. I explained that I needed to be there to protect my mama. She was quiet and I could see her thinking while she sipped her tea. Finally, she spoke.
“You cannot fight demons that are not yours, nor can you fight demons until you are ready.”
“How do I get ready?”
She sat across from me quiet. So quiet, I thought I angered her. Finally, she answered: “All things in Christ. You need to know Jesus before you can fight them.”
I was little. I was scared of all things I did not know. I was scared of God. I was scared of the devil. I was even scared of Jesus. But I knew one thing: I promised, when I was old enough, I would make sure my children never felt as I felt at that moment. I would find Jesus and I would make sure the demons of my parents never made their way to my children.
Today, I am a father who could never imagine allowing demons to deprive me of my babies – from their 20s to their teens. I love them. I will protect them. I now know the Jesus my grandma told me to seek. He is a great Lord. He defeats all sorts of demons. I am blessed by His almighty love. You can be, too.
This story will continue, in Love.
Y’all have a blessed night.
There are a number of very true and powerful things to note in this story.
Certainly the faith of Mr. Martin’s grandmother and her steely, crusader-like resolution.
Her hardness which, however, for those of us who know about such things, was literally a life-saving skill.
Do you know how they train special ops guys in Russia? They start out brand new recruits by forcing them to wade through a pitch dark tunnel that has lots of buried trash in it, like drums, steel reinforcing, bricks, fence posts etc and most of it is all under blood. Yes you read that right. The tunnel is filled with pig blood and guts at least to waist if not chest height. People fall and get cut and dip their whole face in blood and guts and it’s obviously pretty traumatic. If the exercise ended there you’d probably end up one of those washouts who sits in a bar telling people he was spetsnaz and that’s why he drinks.
But it doesn’t end there.
The next thing they do is get you to run your ass off, then crawl through mud with barbed wire over your head while live ammo is fired a foot above you. Then it’s a hike and you need to do it in a set time and fire at silhouettes or whatever. And this goes on all night. By the time you are finished you’re exhausted and the pig’s blood stuff is a distant memory and you move on. Because tomorrow brings other tests and you gotta survive them too.
And that’s how they get the special ops guys to become mentally tough.
Mr. Martin had a special ops grandma. Thank God.
Another aspect many will miss is the violence required. That grandma didn’t go there pretending to care. She was ready to literally put a bullet in as many tweakers as it took to get her little nephews out.
Technically, what she did is bad, bad, illegal, evil! And probably she even had some badthink!
Well. Any police officer or LEO that would caution, never mind arrest or charge such a woman, for brandishing a weapon at the tweakers (technically attempted murder in some places), is a spineless worm that deserves nothing but scorn on himself and his entire name for being such a puppet to the powers that be that he may as well have Biden’s senile and gloved fist up his ass telling him what to say and do.
Take note. The very real threat of violence was required to do good by those innocent children.
And these are only some the secular lessons. If you were unaware of those, then be sure, you have a ways to go before you become able to fight demons. A long way to go.
You cannot fight demons until you are ready
A powerful testament from Padraig Martin
There are a number of very true and powerful things to note in this story.
Certainly the faith of Mr. Martin’s grandmother and her steely, crusader-like resolution.
Her hardness which, however, for those of us who know about such things, was literally a life-saving skill.
Do you know how they train special ops guys in Russia? They start out brand new recruits by forcing them to wade through a pitch dark tunnel that has lots of buried trash in it, like drums, steel reinforcing, bricks, fence posts etc and most of it is all under blood. Yes you read that right. The tunnel is filled with pig blood and guts at least to waist if not chest height. People fall and get cut and dip their whole face in blood and guts and it’s obviously pretty traumatic. If the exercise ended there you’d probably end up one of those washouts who sits in a bar telling people he was spetsnaz and that’s why he drinks.
But it doesn’t end there.
The next thing they do is get you to run your ass off, then crawl through mud with barbed wire over your head while live ammo is fired a foot above you. Then it’s a hike and you need to do it in a set time and fire at silhouettes or whatever. And this goes on all night. By the time you are finished you’re exhausted and the pig’s blood stuff is a distant memory and you move on. Because tomorrow brings other tests and you gotta survive them too.
And that’s how they get the special ops guys to become mentally tough.
Mr. Martin had a special ops grandma. Thank God.
Another aspect many will miss is the violence required. That grandma didn’t go there pretending to care. She was ready to literally put a bullet in as many tweakers as it took to get her little nephews out.
Technically, what she did is bad, bad, illegal, evil! And probably she even had some badthink!
Well. Any police officer or LEO that would caution, never mind arrest or charge such a woman, for brandishing a weapon at the tweakers (technically attempted murder in some places), is a spineless worm that deserves nothing but scorn on himself and his entire name for being such a puppet to the powers that be that he may as well have Biden’s senile and gloved fist up his ass telling him what to say and do.
Take note. The very real threat of violence was required to do good by those innocent children.
And these are only some the secular lessons. If you were unaware of those, then be sure, you have a ways to go before you become able to fight demons. A long way to go.
And know, above all, this: Jesus is Lord.
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