Cry Like a Man by Jason Wilson

Author:Jason Wilson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: REL012070 Religion / Christian Life / Personal Growth
Publisher: David C. Cook

11

NO OTHER GODS

“You must not make for yourself an idol of any kind.… I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God who will not tolerate your affection for any other gods.”

Exodus 20:4–5

Every man has an idol.

Whether it’s Luke Skywalker or Darth Vader, Batman or the Joker, Black Panther or Killmonger, he will choose the one that has the best chance of saving the day or saving him. But unlike fictional characters who wear their identities so distinctly—like a comic book logo on the cover of their deeds—a human being brings both good and evil together under one unified but conflicted seal.

A kindhearted killer, a sentimental rapist, an honorable drug dealer. These polarized features in people can make a contemptible character. That is, if you don’t happen to know them, be related to them, love them. Most of us put our faith in the underdog, and isn’t that what we all want to be? To win against all odds, to redeem our mistakes, to prove that we’re not as weak as we appear to be.

I think the vast majority of us wrestle relentlessly, fearful that if we live by the light within us, it will expose the darkness in us to those around us. Insecurities, self-hate, unresolved anger.

That’s when I noticed it. I was starting to lose hope. I could feel it leaving day by day, week by week. The vision I had focused on for so long was fading. The dream was slipping away.

Plan B is never as good …

But it’s something.

If it turned out that a music career wasn’t in my future, I could always fall back on hustling for my idol—my brother Keith. There was a lot to admire about the lifestyle—the money, power, women. My brother wore ten-carat diamond rings, and $100K Piguet watches, drove expensive cars, owned businesses—you name it. Danger surrounded him, and still somehow he made it look good.

He once said, “Jason, if I turn up missing, don’t bother to come for me. I’m already dead.”

That’s why involving me in selling drugs wasn’t an option. He always believed I could do better, and he wasn’t willing to jeopardize the life of his brother. Only himself.

Gone were the days of deejaying, fallen by the wayside to leave room for producing opportunities. However, Keith continued to encourage me by gifting a coveted Akai MPC60-II sampling drum machine. Spending hours together, listening to stories, I realized our father had left the same disturbing imprint on him, which gave me fresh insight. Another broken young man disregarded and abandoned. I felt for him—for the empty part that still needed filling. And my presence was a reminder of all that pain.

It had been a long time since he had seen Dad.

I couldn’t help but wonder—was I the tie that connected them? Then, out of the blue, Keith phoned me to say he was ready to reconcile with our father. But how that reunion would play out, I wasn’t sure. Still, I arranged for them to meet after hours at the barbershop where Dad worked.

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