Cry Like A Manنموونە

In the past, music had been my strength, and it still was—deep inside me, exactly where I had left it.

Back in the studio, I was growing, absorbing and applying all the lessons that accumulate with every personality that makes a contribution to your skill set. But as with most education no matter what the topic or how it translates to life, there comes a learning curve where we feel the bend of the metal, the uncomfortable twist of the mold, until it fits the revised us.

Have you ever wondered why “new wine” never goes into “old wineskins” (Matt. 9:17)? It was a Scripture I would learn the meaning of firsthand.

Faith—my faith—was undeniable to everyone around me. And when my commitment to that faith was challenged, it was made all the more real…

We leaned against the kitchen table as our personal views on each subject brought faint sounds of thunder. Not anger, just a slight rumble of opinion as a rapper listened to me proclaim my faith with conviction about the relationship I had with Christ. It was a compelling testimony, or so I thought, until his manager came in and voiced his own opinion—one equivalent to a lightning strike. 

“Don’t listen to him! How can he be a Christian when he just produced the song where you guys are talkin’ about gettin’ high and sleeping with hoes!”

A direct hit!

They left the room, laughing, as Yahushua gently spoke to me through an echo of Scripture.

“No one can serve two masters” (Matt. 6:24). 

I couldn’t stand hypocrites, especially in the church. To me, there were few things worse. And there I was, straddling the line, suddenly feeling nauseated.

A change was imminent—it was time to get off the fence!

Everything I attached my name to moving forward had to glorify the Most High. And though I would no longer produce music for secular artists, our personal relationships endured. My nonconformity to the world had made an impression—one they respected.

Yah’s fingerprints were beginning to appear everywhere.

I was speaking His language. Discerning His wishes. Following in His narrow path. I was finding peace where there once was pandemonium. And within that journey of discovery, Yah sent people to teach and guide me.

It’s amazing how the Most High introduces us to individuals at the most appropriate moments. His all-knowing perspective allows Him to address our needs before we’re even aware we have them and aligns people with what He’s doing in us.

That was the summer I met Shannon Gaston. We were the same age, and he was the first Christian brother to befriend me after I surrendered my life to Christ. Our souls spontaneously connected. 

The most profound quality about Shannon was his ability to “walk out” his Christian beliefs without compromise. He lived what he preached, which taught me more than even our shared Bible studies. He was a walking, talking expression of Christ’s guidance through example. I now had a growing group of exemplary men in my life proving that it was possible to live with conviction without compromising. Like Shannon, instead of looking for validation in temporary things, I was investing in the eternal.

I had found my new identity.