TinCobra

Just a redneck with a passion to write and share some wisdom that God has given me, in hopes to help others change thier lives.

After my father's murder in 2003 I struggled through life for a couple years.  In 2005 I felt God tugging at my heart, and it seemed everything I tried to do on my own failed.  So I gave up on my own will and instead pursued God's, I figured His will would never fail.  It had been a struggle to figure out exactly what his will was, everytime I thought about it, writing popped into my head and heart.  I wasn't sure if that was it though, because although I love writing for the expression, I hate actually typing.  So here I am to put some physical effort to the desires of my heart.  I love God and enjoy politics, so you can expect the majority of my hub's will pertain to these issues, or atleast relate to them.

Have had 2 major events in my life that I feel changed it dramatically.  One I will not mention because it's too personal and the other I mentioned above, my father's murder.  I was just married in December of 2002 and 3 weeks before I turned 19 my father was murdered on June 13 2003.  I didn't see my father much as he and my mother we're divorced and as a teenager, I enjoyed hanging with my friends too much.  My father had been pressing me about when I was gonna give him a grandchild, I know this seems weird because I was 18 at the time, but I was married.  I finally got some news I couldn't wait to share with my dad, my wife was pregnant (she got pregnant after we married btw).  Also my father's dream was for us to work together, the family business was concrete work and after doing it growing up I had grown to resent it.  My father comprimised and said if I would go to school and learn Auto Mechanics we would open a shop.  So here I am driving home thursday night, it's late around 10:30 p.m.  I had just left Technology school, which was the last night of my course, I would still need more schooling to come, but I felt great achievement and excitement.  I was imagining what our shop would be called and all sorts of things.  I also had this great surprise to share with my dad that he would soon in just six months have his first grandchild.

Little did I know, as I was planning and preparing for my life, my future, that just 15 miles away my father was moments from losing his.  The next morning, which happened to be Friday the 13th, not superstitous, but definately gives me something to relate to that day now, I get a call at work from my father's crying sister "your daddy's dead".  Slumped down in the chair, the only words I could find was "what happened".  She made a brief comment and we ended the conversation.  I walked to my supervisor emotionless and told him I had to go and what had happened.  Now I rode to work with my uncle (mom's brother) and as I walked through the shop to the area he worked, my emotions still stay hidden atleast from what I thought.  My uncle is always a joker, a happy go lucky guy, as I came down the ramp he made some comment which I don't even remember what it was, but I do remember it was some wise crack.  Then at the sight of my face his face mimic'd mine and he said you look like you seen a ghost, at this point the emotions finally began to rise.  Tears began to swell and as the words my dad's been killed broke out of my mouth, so did the emotions, which were instantly met with my uncle's loving and comforting arms.  He too now was speachless and it probably brought some unwelcomed emotions in him as well, because he liked my father, but also he had lost his father to cancer 6 years prior.

That ride home from work that day was the longest ride ever.  Me and my uncle didn't speak, as far as I can recall.  I was too busy thinking about how my life was gonna change now and what it was gonna be like without my dad.  Just less than 24 hours ago I was imagining what would of been a perfect life for me, with me and my father finally building a relationship.

My father was killed in a bar, not quite sure by who, since the person everyone said did it was found not guilty by the court.  I guess the constant information streaming in about my father's murder, kept my brain occupied with the mystery and saved me from even more turmoil through emotion.  It was said the man believed my dad was an informant and was trying to bust up thier drug dealing, but I'm not sure the real reason.  I will add that the man Kenny who was accused but then aquitted for my father's murder was found stabbed to death last year around September 2009. 

When the news broke about Kenny's murder people asked me how I felt.  Some even suggested it should make me feel better.  It didn't make me feel good at all, really the only emotion was sadness, because it was another lost life and now maybe the true story of my father's death would be buried with him.  I did feel some anger about it all, when I read a local newspaper article about Kenny's murder, his neighbors glorified him for being a mountain man, one even said he was just a good ol boy that never hurt anyone... I did my best to hold back my rage... He never hurt anyone???  The local paper did mention all the trouble he had with the law and the accusation of my father's murder.  Kenny was just a drunk, that lived off the land because he spent all his money on beer, not because he was a mountain man.  I don't say this because I hate the guy, only because it is accurate.  You see Kenny and my dad we're friends, I had been up to his house a couple times when I was younger.

Part of God changing my life was liberation from revenge, He realeased my from my self made prison of hate and anger towards Kenny or whoever it was that was responsible for taking my father's life.  I remember reading the Bible one night.  I came across the story of Jesus washing his disciples feet, which I found very facinating, wow God comes down and washes the feet of man, the master serving His servants.  I was inspired by this story to follow Christs example.  I filled a bowl with water, wrapped a towel around my waste and humbly asked my wife if I could wash her feet.  Yay I'm being like you Jesus, pat me on the back now, tell me what a great job I'm doing, these were the thoughts running through my head.  Then a voice entered my head "would you wash the feet of your father's murderer?" ... what? did I hear that right?  God how could you ask me to wash the feet of a murderer, especially one who hurt me so much?  "I sent my son to wash the feet of his murderer's"  I replied in arrogance No God don't you remember? the Romans killed your son and the pharisees ordered it.  "They would not have harmed a hair on his head, if man had not sinned, it was the sin of man that murdered him, for which his blood was shed"  After being put in my place I struggled first with the idea of maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me, but then I thought, how could man even entertain an idea like that?  It must have been God because I thought I had it all figured out, that's why I'm in here humbly washing the feet of my wife.  My next struggle was struggling with this idea of washing the disgusting feet of a murderous man, I couldn't even imagine the thought of shaking his hand, let alone what I was being asked to do now.  Even in the court room, just seeing him there, filled me with anger and hate, it was like we were opposite poles of a magnet, my soul was repelling from his.  That court room felt dark.

I eventually began to forgive as God taught me more and could honestly say that I would wash the feet of my father's murderer.  I know people wouldn't understand, some might even call me heartless, but I had a new father now, a Heavenly Father, whom sent His Son to die for my sin... so I was a murderer in my own heart.

As I began to grow in my faith and wisdom, I began to question my father's eternal outcome.  He was an alcoholic basically his entire life.  He did alot of bad things throughout his life.  I don't want to tear him down, but as a person who seeks truth, I don't want to paint a picture of him that doesn't represent who he was, just because he's gone now.  On the other hand I don't want people to think he was a horrible man.  He was a decent man, that like the rest of us had some issues, but he had a big heart and often gave generously to friends and family even when he knew it would come back to be a thorn in his side.  His generosity was often repaid with ungreatfulness and broken promises.  Now I can recall a few times in my father's life where he would read the Bible to me and my sister, other than that, he might of stepped in a Church as many times as he read us the Bible.  I'm not a person that believes reading the Bible and going to Church save you, but those are definately qualities of a Christ follower. 

There was one time I do however remember when I noticed a complete change in my father.  I was actually not long before he died.  If my memory serves me well, I believe it was the 2nd to last time I saw him.  He was talking kind of strange, telling me he would go crazy and have to start killing people if anyone hurt one of his kids and then said when he's gone I would have to take care of my sister and grandmother.  My father was also trying to guilt trip me by saying he wasn't gonna be around for forever, so I didn't think much of it, but now hindsite wonders if someone was threatening him with me and my sister's life and so instead he gave up his.  But I can't make that claim for certain.  But the words that really stood out was my father asked me "who is your God" I replied Jesus, because thats really I'll I've known my whole life, remember this is before I dedicated my life to Christ.  My father replied "good".  That was strange, my father was not normally... well really ever like that.

The last night I seen him was a couple month's before his death, he was going on a trip to Colorado, New Mexico and other areas.  My father was a traveler, he loved the open road.  That last night me and my father bonded like we never had in my entire life.  An older man and quite a young man, fellowshiping and enjoying eachothers company in the cool summer night.  I didn't want that night to end, because for once my father was opened to me being my own person, my own man and not following family tradition.  I even remember him correcting my cousing that night when he cursed, which is not like my dad at all, he put sailors to shame.  Even writing this reminded me that the second to last time I talked to him, he cussed and appoligized to me, that it slipped out.  When I went to bed that night, not knowing that would be the last time I would see my father alive, I felt at peace.  For some reason this thought came over me, that if it were the last night to see my father, it would be the most memorable and greatest experience in my life with my father.  I didn't think much of this, because I assumed it was the fear of him being in a car wreck while he was traveling, that was making my mind think like this. 

That was the last night though, and it is in fact the best memory I have of my father.  He had been back in town for a couple weeks before he got killed, but I wasn't aware, my aunt told me he had tried to contact me a time or two but couldn't get an answer.  She did relieve my thoughts a little and told me he knew that my wife was pregnant, because I earnestly wanted to tell him that.  Not sure if she actually told him or just told me that to soothe my pain.  She also told me my dad had quite fooling around with women at the bar and was sobering up.  Even the autopsy revealed that my father had a murky substance in his stomach that resembled coffee the night of his murder, which my uncles claimed he was drinking coffee at the bar earlier in the day while they were there, dispite the accusations that my father was drunk and beligerant and causing problems.  His blood to alcohol level was very low according to autopsy report, and I've been told your level actually increses when you die.  One of my father's brothers said my dad told him the night before that thier cousin and his girlfriend were gonna kill him.  My uncle claims he grew angry with my dad, asking him how he could say his family would kill him.  My sister also said my father had come by her work a few days prior to his death.  She was supposed to cut his hair, but had been busy, she told my dad she would have time this weekend to cut it, but my father declined saying "it's ok sis I dont have to worry about those things anymore".  My sister questioned his comment, but didn't get an answer really, but she says my dad looked pale and sick.  My father's cousin was the one who was leasing the bar and his girlfriend was the bartender that night of his death.  It has been said Richard was pushing drugs through the bar and my dad got angry when he found out.  Earlier that night when my dad's two brother's were there, kenny's nephew came in and through some drugs accross the counter to the bartender.  My dad got up in his face and was yelling at him, the situation was dissolved.  My uncle's left later that night and they claim they urged my father to go with them, but he insisted he stay.  That's when later Kenny supposedly came in and and retaliated against my father for the verbal abuse of his nephew, but my father and kenny were friends and in fact were suppose to go on a float trip in a couple weeks. 

My father's lifeless body was spotted with bruises and even when my uncle arrived at the bar the next morning when the police were investingating, he saw black bags wrapped around my father's hands, which suggest maybe he had some hair or skin in his fingernails.  The evidence definately suggested to me that he had been in a fight or jumped by multiple people, not that he was just sitting on a bar stool and hit in the head.  No one called the ambulance, my dad's cousing claimed my father wanted to sleep it off, so he just locked him up in the bar.  The next morning he came back to check on him and found my father lifeless with a drape over  him for covers and something under his head.  I'm sorry I just can't believe a man wants to sleep off a 3 inch gash in the back of his head, and the autopsy report claimed blunt force trauma to the head was the cause of death.  Richard, my father's cousin, was reported by witnesses of saying "he got what he deserved" that night when my father was killed.

For me this seemed like an easy cast to bring justice to, but to my surprise the District Attorney did not want to speak with us about the information we were hearing.  We finally decided if he wasn't going to talk to us on the phone we would go meet him.  When we arrived at his office his secretary kept insisting he was just too busy, but as my aunt and sister broke down in tears, out stepped a cowardly figure who kept his nose burried in what he claimed was my father's case file.  He did not want to make eye contact and kept his comments brief.  His behavior was the same when we saw him in the courthouse.  There definately seemed to be something funny going on, but I don't want to sound like a conspiracy theorist.  The outcome of the trial was Kenny being aqcuitted because of the loose testamony of witnesses that said they didn't see him hit my father, but heard a loud sound and turned around to see my father on the floor and Kenny with a board in his hand.  Case was closed after that.

That is the story of a major event that sculpted my life and how God liberated me through it.

I have 3 children Lucas (2003) Hanah (2007) Noah (2009)