The Dubai Hotel Room, Bojangles Runs, and the Roots of the Bashan Oaks
Sitting out here on the balcony at 4:00 a.m., watching the world wake up, I am struck by the sheer magnitude of God's goodness. Most of my life has already passed, but the peace I feel right now is something I never thought I would experience.
I just finished reading the Song of Solomon—which, let's be honest, is incredibly graphic, almost like ancient word porn—and found out I am cycling back into Psalms for this reading plan. As I read, my attention was caught by the cedars of Lebanon and the oaks of Bashan. I looked them up. Some of these oaks are 3,000 years old. They were standing during the time of Jesus. What is fascinating about them is their resilience: even if their stumps get completely chopped off, their deep roots continue to grow, bringing forth new life.
That imagery perfectly mirrors the radical shift in my own life.
For as long as I can remember, I was enslaved by the heavy, suffocating bondage of sexual sin and lust. It started with severe trauma; I was abused when I was very young, having my first experience under a shower at maybe six years old. From that moment on, I was a highly sexualized person. I didn't know what it meant not to be enslaved to those desires.
The rotten stump of that life finally got cut down in a Dubai hotel room.
That was the night my second wife tried to murder me. As the blood poured down my face and I felt myself fainting, I truly believed those were my final moments on earth. My only thought was reaching out to my kids to tell them I was sorry. A part of me completely died in that room. But God, in His mercy, gave me a chance to start over. I write about this turning point in After the Knife. I packed my life into a U-Haul and moved back to Virginia from Florida. No more splitting my time 50/50. I was going to stay with my kids.
That decision didn't pan out exactly how I thought it would, but it allowed something miraculous to happen. God knew exactly what He was doing.
Because I was in Virginia full-time, I was able to drive Don—my son's friend and AAU basketball teammate—to Smith Mountain Lake Christian Academy. Don had earned a scholarship, but he had absolutely no way to get there. Taking him meant driving 15 to 30 minutes out of my way to the opposite side of Lynchburg near downtown, then retracing our steps to head to the lake. It turned into a daily four-hour round trip.
Those drives were exhausting, and feeding two bottomless teenage boys every day before and after school at Bojangles put me into a credit card debt that I am probably still paying off today. But I would not trade a single second of those trips.
I had a captive audience. I used to question how old these boys really were because they constantly acted like middle schoolers, joking around and having the time of their lives. Even though I wasn't fully living for the Lord at the time, God used me to help shape those boys and pass on some wisdom.
And clearly, something set in.
I think about the incredible holiness of my son. In stark contrast to my own lifelong struggles with lust, Cash was so disciplined. I know of a time he went over six months without defiling himself, taking constant cold showers just to control his flesh and honor God.
I look at Don, who is doing incredibly well now, playing his senior year of college basketball in Virginia Beach. SMLCA changed his life and helped pay for his education. And I think about Cash's quiet, sacrificial love. The very next year, Cash took over the driving himself, going half an hour out of his way every single day to pick Don up. It probably cost Cash some playing time, but to those boys, their brotherhood and winning together was more important. That same loyalty is why Cash ultimately decided not to return to SMLCA for his senior year, choosing instead to go back to LCA to be with his longtime friend, Terry.
God chopped down the toxic, abusive stump of my past in Dubai, but He allowed new, healthy roots to grow in the quiet confines of a car on the way to SMLCA.
Thank You, Lord, for breaking the bondage of sexual sin that held me back for so long. I am a free man, and I am ready to do Your will, whatever it is.
Today's SOAP
S - Scripture
Psalm 92:12-14 (NIV): "The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the Lord, they will flourish in the courts of our God. They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green."
Isaiah 2:12-13 (NIV): "The Lord Almighty has a day in store for all the proud and lofty... for all the cedars of Lebanon, tall and lofty, and all the oaks of Bashan."
O - Observation
The cedars of Lebanon and the oaks of Bashan are symbols of immense strength, pride, and ancient resilience in Scripture. When God humbles the proud and cuts down the lofty stumps of our own making, He doesn't always destroy the root. For the righteous who are planted in His house, He allows new, fresh growth to emerge, bearing good fruit even after seasons of extreme destruction.
A - Application
The trauma of my youth and the bondage of my adulthood built a life that had to be brought down. The violent wake-up call in Dubai was the severing of that old life. But God used my return to Virginia to plant me in a position of service. The four hours a day spent driving Cash and Don was the new root system growing. I must never take for granted the freedom God has given me from the chains of my past, and I must continue to let my current roots dig deep into His Word so I can bear righteous fruit in this season of my life.
P - Prayer
Heavenly Father, I give You the absolute first fruits of my day. Thank You for Your miraculous deliverance. Thank You for breaking the heavy chains of sexual slavery and abuse that I carried for most of my life. Lord, I praise You for the deep, healthy roots You are growing in me now. Thank You for the gift of those long car rides with Cash and Don, and for the incredible men they became. Continue to bless Don in his senior year. Keep my heart pure, keep my eyes fixed on You, and use me entirely for Your will today. In Jesus' name, Amen.
