Motherhood is one of the hardest jobs to do; having a life depend on your every waking move is scarier than can be expressed. My insecurities in the beginning years of my journey were sometimes the most debilitating experience ever. How I got through is a miracle in it of itself. I was a dysfunctional functioning mother to say the least. The following entry is a flashback of my early years, not of my motherhood but of my childhood. You may not be able to relate but maybe you’ll understand a bit of my dysfunction.

How could a mother handle if her family was in danger from a wanted killer?   “I’m coming for you. I’m not only going to kill you, but I’m going to kill your children…” My mother could not move fast enough when the news came to her that my father had been shot. How bad was he shot? Who could have done such a thing? No one could give her any answers nor prepare her for what she was about to go through as she rushed to the hospital.

Let’s talk about what happened. Knight Rider, as he liked to be called, was a friend of the family and was one of my father’s close friends. His name was no different than any of my dad’s other friend’s names like, Music Man, Road Runner, and Dark Fist. My father and Knight Rider became fast friends. Many days after school, I came home to see both of them, along with the others watching TV, playing video games and playing cards. There were times when my mom would come home to see them smoking and drinking in the living room. She begged my dad to end his friendship with the crew, but he saw no wrong in his friendship with them. They were brothers, in my father’s eyes, and he would do anything for Knight Rider and his other friends. I heard a few arguments between my mother and father where my mother shared her detest for Knight Rider and his influence on our family.

Knight Rider and my father enjoyed drugs, drinking and vulgarity as if it was all their times together were made for. During the summer, my father would have secret BBQ’s with his friends, mainly Knight Rider. Those BBQ’s were fun as my younger brother and I ran around the park not knowing the dangers we were in.

“Guys”, my father called us over. “Do not tell your mother where you were today.”

“Why?” I asked curiously.

“Because your mother isn’t as forgiving as me. She doesn’t like Knight Rider and I don’t want her to get upset.” I was lost because my mother was never a woman to express such dislike for one person. We all would find out later why her motherly instincts were flaring.

My father and Knight Rider were driving around together and my father needed to stop at the store. My father told him he could wait in the car while he went inside. After running his errands, he dropped Knight Rider off and looked for the money he had from work but it was nowhere to be found. He knew he had it nestled in between the seat before he picked up Knight Rider. He knew that Knight Rider had stolen from him and he was not going to stand for it. My father immediately went to the police to file a report instead of confronting his friend. That was the end of that friendship.

The incident came and went and finally my mother was rid of that disgusting friend of my father’s…so she thought. My father was known for his cooking by many. He was asked many times to cater a party or he would just cook out of the kindness of his heart for his friends and family. On one particular Friday night my father came home with all the ingredients to make his famous soup for a party one of his friends were throwing. The aroma not only filled our two-bedroom apartment, but it extended across the hallways of the 4^th floor in the building we lived in.  You could even smell his soup in the staircases leading to the other floors. My older brother and I were jealous that we didn’t get any before going off to youth group that night. He was originally wanted to stay home to take the soup to the party, but he decided instead to join me at church.

My mother did not want my father to stay at the party, so he had planned to drop the soup off and come home to be with her. She expected him to be gone for a half an hour but what should have taken a half an hour, was now turning into almost two hours. She quickly assumed that he chose to stay at the party instead of coming home, after all, what other reason could there be?

My father was driving into the driveway of the party when he saw his ex-friend, Knight Rider. “You’re finally going to get what’s coming to you!!”, he screamed at my dad.  My father put the van in park but refused to get out. Knight Rider walked over to the driver’s side of the van and started arguing with my father. As the argument escalated, my father’s friends just gathered around, no one stopped the argument or tried to deescalate it.

The fight got so vile that soon they started spitting in each other’s faces. My father was not a man to be trifled with and the only two people he feared were his parents.  Knight Rider didn’t scare him…yet, as we were told of what went down I wondered why he hadn’t gotten out of the van to teach his former friend a lesson. The only reason I could think of was that this man didn’t just used to be his friend, he was “the” friend, in fact all the eyes watching were friends. They all came to our house at one point to eat, drink, smoke, party and now they were all watching this happen without any defense.

Before my father could think about the next vile insult he would spew it, Knight Rider took out a gun and pulled the trigger. My father was knocked by something and felt the burn of the first bullet as he heard the sound of a second round being shot. Blood was everywhere. He was actually hit. Blood was in his mouth and air was leaving his lungs. He sat up and put the car in drive, but Knight Rider ran in front of the car unable to grasp how my dad was still alive. Knight Rider was determined not to let my father go. He stood in front of my dad’s van, looked him in the eyes, pointed the gun directly at his head and—full of pure rage and revenge—pulled the trigger a third time. The gun must have jammed though.  He pulled the trigger several times…but not one bullet was discharged. That was when God stepped in, I believe, and clogged the gun. It gave my father enough time to put the van in reverse and speed off. As he was speeding off, Knight Rider was able to get two more shots off that hit my dads van but missing my father.

Blood was gushing everywhere from my father’s throat. The bullet went from one part of his neck and exited out the other side shattering his trachea and voice box. To the shock of everyone, according to the doctors who took care of him, if there was a small space for a bullet to go and still give him chance, that was where the bullet went. My dad couldn’t breathe so he put his middle finger and thumb into the holes while he drove (or some angel above) and he could get just a touch of air. He was losing blood fast and it was a miracle that he was still alive. He found a fire department that he almost crashed the van into. He slumped over as he was passing out. The firemen opened the door to see the horror of blood. An ambulance happened to be driving by and one of the firemen ran in the middle of the street to get their attention.

My mother was not ready to comprehend what she was going to hear when she got to the hospital. When she heard that my father had been hit directly in the throat, she did not think he would make it. The doctor’s explained the damage that he had experienced along with the chances of him recovering. How could Knight Rider shoot him so mercilessly?

Knight Rider wasn’t done; he was not going to stop until my family was eliminated. My father’s life was in danger as Knight Rider told some people that he was planning to go to the hospital and finish off my father. They had to change my father’s name in the hospital and put him on high security. My mother was also notified of his plan to kill her, my brothers and myself. We were kept from going to school and would not return till my mother felt it was safe. He knew our ins and outs because my father had let him into every aspect of our lives.

My father barely started his recovery before checking himself out of the hospital. He refused to live in safety while his whole family was at risk. After only a week of being in the hospital he came out to set up some safety guidelines and tell off every “friend” he thought he had. In truth he didn’t know who to trust.  Many thought the way he handled Knight Rider’s theft by going to the police was cold and that my dad was a snitch. Just days before my home that was once bustling with rowdy West Indians who were parting and hanging out, but that was all now a thing of the past. Our home never saw those people ever again.

My younger brother and I were unaware of the extreme danger we were in. No one talked to us and told us about how much our lives were in danger which is why we were not allowed to answer the door, answer the phones or go anywhere extra.

After being home for a few weeks, my parents got the news they wanted but at the same time, did not want to hear. Knight Rider had been arrested and was no longer a danger to us. That was the news they wanted to hear. What they were not expecting to hear was that Knight Rider was actually a wanted killer whom law enforcement had been looking for, for years.

Knight Rider was not done inflicting fear into my parents’ minds and hearts. He was allowed only a few opportunities to make a phone call and he used them to call my father. “I’m coming for you. I’m not only going to kill you but I’m going to kill your children. I know where they go to school, I know where your wife goes to work. I’m coming for you.” My father didn’t engage the phone call too much, but didn’t hang up before using some foul language. Knight Rider just threw out a meaningless threats because shortly after his arrest he was deported back to Jamaica.

All that I know now was told to me much later. I was oblivious to his threats, his determination to kill my father and the rest of my family. My family made it through, but it all could have ended very differently.  I thank God for watching over us, even when we didn’t know it.

Now, so many years later, I see my home as my sanctuary and I work very hard to protect it. It is a place for my family to feel safe, protected and secure. Sam and I have learned that the enemy doesn’t always come looking like an obvious threat he can, at times, get close through a friend. My mother knew something was off with Knight Rider from the start. She never felt safe with him around.  Her instincts caused her to beg my father to cut off the friendship.

In time I would learn to follow my own motherly instincts. The first I learned, was to listen in putting God at the center of my family’s life. There was and is no way I could do anything without Him.  Sam and I were already serving in ministry before we became parents and if you haven’t heard it before, it’s hard for people in ministry to have close friends. When it was just us was one thing, but when it later became about who we allow to influence and expose them to we became very cautious. We knew that we had to portray an image and behavior that our kids would model and we believed the same with who we chose to surround ourselves with.

Second we knew learned, that some relationship may serve a purpose for only certain seasons of life. Not every person we became close with are as close to us now. At times the reasons to disconnect may not mean that a friend became evil or anything but things now are just different and like Paul and Barnabas, taking different paths in life was the better choice. In some cases the separation were not on good terms, in other cases life just continues in different directions. Regardless of how it happens it is hard to part ways with those you love.

There are some relationships that we are good with either way but, Sam and I pray and hope for the connections where we loved and lost to one day be healed. We also learned that time can heal that as well. In some cases I know we could have handled things better, we are not perfect, but I will not regret ever wanting to protect my home and the lives that God had trusted in my care. He gave Sam and I four minds to nurture and inspire.  He allowed me to see what life without discernment could lead to so I choose to show and teach my children different.