He took that "blaze" up out my lung
and put that PRAISE up on my tongue
It's still a trip to my, in some ways, that I actually have this testimony, considering the disdain I had for smoking. Yet, smoking (cigarettes, Black & Mild cigars, and especially marijuana) is something from which God had to save me.
I grew up with parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and other adults who were smokers; I think my maternal grandmother was the only adult in my life who didn't smoke at all. I remember all the smoky car rides, the butt-filled ashtrays, and running to the store with a handwritten note from my mother or one of my aunts to buy cigarrettes or rolling papers.
But, I hated it. I thought it was a waste of money to buy those smoky things (I was also considering all the candy, chips, and pop I could buy with the money being spent on Salem Slim Lights, Kools, and Newports). I swore to never smoke cigarettes in my life!
That's not to say that there was no temptation in my teenaged years. I remember that, when I was 14, I flirted with the idea of smoking a Black & Mild cigar. Honestly, I liked the smell. Cigarettes stinked, Black & Milds smelled nice. I wanted to smoke one to see if it tasted as good as it smelled. I went tand bought a pack one time, but before I could get enough nerve to open it and smoke one, my brothers kicked in my door and saw the Black & Milds. In embarrassment, I threw them out the window, and I gave up on trying those cigars.
So, I get to college. I never smoked anything, and was a bit of a goody-two-shoes when it came to smoking and other vices. I was shocked to see classmates and dorm-mates smoking cigarettes and weed. I couldn't believe that people who were smart enough to be in college would be foolish enough to smoke [and do other stuff]! I generally tried to stay away from the smokers; I wasn't trying to be judgmental, but it shocked me, and I didn't know how to "take" my peers who were smokers.
During fall break of my freshman year of college, I decided to stay on campus and hang out (most of the students used to three-day weekend to go off campus to visit family and friends). Well, on Saturday night of the fall break, I went to check on the guy that lived two doors down from me. Unbeknownst to me, he and several of our dorm-mates were in the midst of a smoke session [with marijuana]. I was shocked to see them smoking weed, especially in our smoke-free dorm, but was intrigued because it was the first time I've ever seen Caucasians smoking weed. So, I went in the room to hang out with them, but didn't intend to smoke anything. However, one of the guys started talking this stuff about how marijuana isn't addictive and how it makes you feel good and a whole bunch of other b.s. that seems stupid now but made sense at the time (I probably had caught a contact at the time and didn't even know it; but then, I was so naive then that I didn't even know what a contact was). Then he ended his endorsement of marijuana with "I'm not trying to pressure you...".
Of course I was intrigued. So, when I was asked if I wanted to give it a try, of course I said yes! I let them show me what to do. I inhaled, and of course I choked on the first couple of hits. But that third time, I inhaled it correctly, and I held it in like they told me to. I remember feeling at though someone went inside my brain and hit me on my skull with a little hammer. Then I remember feeling dizzy and lightheaded. Then, I remember everything being funny, and laughing at everything that everyone was saying. I can't remember how long I stayed in that room, but I remember leaving and going back to my room with the munchies. I ate some Doritos, drank Hawaiian Punch, and fell asleep in the middle of the floor with a white sheet wrapped around me.
I loved marijuana. I loved how it seemed to make food taste better, how it made everything funnier, how it made my head spin, how it made me so relaxed. At the same time, I felt guilty. I had always tried to be an example to my younger siblings, and here I was, loving weed. But, I didn't stop smoking.
I also finally started to smoke Black & Milds. I went to the Ameristop on Spring Street and bought a pack of Black and Milds and smoked one of them on the walk back to my dorm. I wasn't a frequent smoker of Black & Milds, but I did love the smell of them, and they held me over until I was able to get some weed.
After I had been a Christian for about six months or so (right around the time I got filled with the Holy Ghost), I started feeling bad about smoking. Some of my brothers and sisters in Christ testified about how God delivered them from weed, so I assumed that I couldn't smoke weed or Black & Milds anymore since I was a Christian. So I stopped smoking... for about eight months.
My homegirl was leaving Miami U, and she wanted to smoke with me one time. We had never smoked with each other, and she wanted to get a 20-sack and get it in. So, despite that Holy Ghost conviction, I put in, and we got lit the entire weekend.
After that smoke-episode, I would go on weed binges, meaning that I would forsake smoking weed for a period of time (six months to two years), then I would get offered weed, and binge for a period of time (from a few days to a few weeks). Then, I would feel bad and stop smoking.
I remember having a conversation with my mother in March 2002 (two months before she passed away). I told her about how I wanted to go smoke some weed. She told me not to be like everyone else. "I smoke weed, your Daddy smokes weed, your brothers smoke weed. Don't be like us, Edward. You've always been on something different - stay that way." That conversation stuck with me, especially since that was one of the last times she and I sat down and talked before she died of a brain aneurysm two months after we talked.
I did take her words to heart, and I wanted to be "on something different". But, I was grieving, heartbroken, and STRESSED! So, I started smoking Newports to deal with the stress, and to stay away from weed. I wasn't a "regular" smoker of cigarrettes though. I would buy a pack, give 1/2 of them to beggin' niggas on the streets, and after finishing off a pack, I would forsake smoking until the next time I was stressing and found myself buying another pack of Newports.
In November 2004, while I was praying to God, He started dealing with me about how I needed deliverance from smoking. I tried to reason with God, by saying things like, "But I'm not a regular smoker", and "I went without smoking for two years - twice - so it can't be that big of a deal." But, God kept convicting me about it. He made me to realize that they only reason I stopped smoking was because I didn't have and money, or because I was in situations where I couldn't smoke (like when I was was living with my best friends). He showed me that I adtually loved the smell of marijuana and Black & Milds, how I would sit around smokers just so that I could take in the smell. He showed me that the fact I would say, "I went without smoking for two years - twice - so it can't be that big of a deal" showed just how deceived the devil had me in this area. So, I sincerely prayed, "Lord, deliver me from smoking."
And He did. About two weeks after I prayed for deliverance, I was walking from the Main Library in Downtown Cincinnati. Two guys walking in front of me were smoking a blunt. The smell hit my nose, and I was so turned off by the smell that I actually had to turn and walk in another direction just to get away from that smell. As I walked away, I asked God what was that all about; he told me that he took the taste for smoking out of my mouth. Not only did the desire leave, but I actually became disgusted by even the very smell of cigarettes/marijuana/Black & Milds.
However, there was a period where I tried to smoke again. In March/April 2007, I left God and "called" myself backsliding. After I made the decision to backslide, I decided that I was going to go back and resume all those vices, including smoking and drinking. I got hold of a Newport, and tried to smoke it. I took one puff, and almost threw up! It was as though I had inhaled a mouthful of dirt! I put out the cigarrette, and knew that I'd never pick one up again. I also tried to smoke a joint during this period. My younger brother was smoking, and I asked if I could hit it. He was hesitant to let me hit (he knew that I had been delivered, and he was disappointed that I was backslidding), but he gave in and passed me the joint. I took a couple of puffs, and NOTHING HAPPENED - I didn't even feel the smoke hit my lungs! I didn't get high, didn't choke, nothing! Nothing happened! So, I knew then that God's deliverance was bigger than my attempts at backsliding.
And, I haven't touch any of that stuff since.
#ex-smoker
No comments:
Post a Comment