But for The Grace of God

Some say the character of a man is defined by the fullness of his experiences, thoughts, feelings, emotions, words, and behaviors. But I know it is God who determines a man's destiny, and God alone has the last say.

I grew up in a broken home full of violence. Dad was domineering, jealous, and untrustful of my mother, accusing her of being unfaithful and often abused her. At age two he locked me outside the house, and I felt helpless and hopeless as I heard my dear mother crying because I couldn't help her or change what was happening.

I was six when she left for the United Kingdom and returned four years later to buy a home. I often visited and spent time with her, sleeping overnight. It was like living with her again making it the happiest time of my life, being in her presence.

Although I was a kind, gentle, considerate and loving person, because of my mother’s pains, sorrows and sufferings, which drove her to drown her griefs with alcohol, I wanted to take vengeance against those responsible, but she would not have it. I honored her wish though it made me feel bound and helpless. Her sudden death made me bitter and cold as she meant more to me than life itself.

At age seven I used to hang around older men who smoked marijuana, and who were also involved in all kinds of violent conduct. I would go to the store to purchase food for them when they asked and they would give me small change or pass me the chalice when they were smoking marijuana, but I never refused and smoked it several times. By God's grace I haven't smoked marijuana since 2011, or cigarettes since 2015. I haven't arrived, but I am working out my salvation day by day with fear and trembling trusting God to finish the work he started in me.

About eight years old on my way home, I was startled by the sound of gunshots. My attention was drawn to the location of the sound about forty yards away. I was traumatized by the sight of a man's body jerking each time a shot rang out from some unseen location, but I never saw the shooter.

As I reached the location I beheld a frightful sight, the man's body was twitching as he helplessly laid there on the ground as the spirit left his lifeless body.

I also was a victim of violence and witnessed many acts of violence growing up. Small in stature, I was often bullied by bigger boys until I got tired of being abused--and started using violence in my defense. I was about nine years old when I was pushed off a pier into the sea by a grown man. Drowning, I swallowed water twice each time I went under, because I could not swim. Thankfully, my elder brother came to my rescue and saved me.

In addition to many near death experiences, fear and terror became a common experience for me growing up with violence surrounding me constantly. At 15, someone threw a brick that hit me in the back of the head while I was playing blackjack in the back of a closed-in empty lot. I remember my head reverberating like a wave going back and forth--and a big knot remains in the back of my head to this day as a constant reminder.

At 16, someone threw a huge stone which could have crushed my skull in a near miss-- all because I spoke and acted in defense of a woman.

I was a fearless, daring, and adventurous young man. I once rode a stolen bicycle to visit relatives in the country--not knowing the distance was over fifty miles one way. Reaching about halfway, I saw ahead of me what appeared to be an insurmountable hill and decided to turn around and head back home. But before I could move, I saw another man riding a bicycle up the hill. I said to myself, "if he can do it, so can I," and I started pedaling up the hill following after him.

I had left home with only a few pennies in my pockets and no light on the bicycle when the dark of the night caught me heading back home. The thought did not occur to me that I might have gotten a flat tire. I had no bicycle pump nor the means to patch a hole in a bicycle tube if it got punctured.

During the long ride, I often stopped at bars along the way to ask for a drink of water. I recall stopping on one occasion to ask for a drink of water, and I drank a quart bottle of water a barmaid gave me. She got angry because she wanted to chase her customers’ white rum, a high proof alcohol, with the ice cold water I had consumed, but a patron said, "Leave him alone. He must have really needed it."

On the way back home, I held on to the back of a truck. A passenger inside the cab of the truck stuck his head out the right-side window and saw me. Then, the truck started to speed up. I held on to the back of the truck a bit longer--enjoying the ride because I felt tired. When a thought came into my mind saying, "let go", in retrospect I believe it was the (Holy) Spirit who impressed on my mind to let go. As I travelled a few yards further, rounding a curve in the road, I observed a precipice to my left going down about a hundred feet or more. Then I realized why the driver sped up.

At age twenty-five, a driver deliberately struck my bicycle's front wheel with his automobile and sent me tumbling to the asphalt paved street.

Because I underwent so many traumatic and near-death experiences throughout my lifetime, I concluded that God has a purpose for my life which is why he saved me so many times. So, I decided to seek him by studying and obeying his words and became a born-again Christian.

Experience has taught me: "But for the grace of God there go I". I am no longer filled with bitterness since I came to understand, know, and appreciate the importance and healing power of forgiveness. I am a new man. The old man died on a cross with Christ. I now live my life in the newness of his redeeming grace. For all of my experiences, I thank God.

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Errol Irving is a 76 year old Elder and devout Chrisitian. He graduated with a Bachelor's Degree from Hudson Link’s Mercy University College Program and a Master’s Degree in Professional Studies from Union Theological Seminary. Errol is well respected by all who know him and often gives the Sunday sermon in the prison he resides in.