A Journey From Sinner To Salvation
11/18/2009
Merrow Publishing
Jeff Merrow
103 Sweet Bay Court
Hampstead, 28443
910-319-0325
Awakening
My Soul
20000 words
Jeffrey Merrow
Merrow Publishing
A Publishing Company to Add Glory to God
103 Sweet bay Court Hampstead, NC 28443
CONTENTS
PART 1
A awakening of a Man owned and operated by Jesus Christ
A Word Before You Read This
Sometimes in life we are driven by forces that we don’t understand or can’t even fathom. Time has rolled by at a screaming rate. The history left by the chain of events that would transpire throughout my own life’s allotted time, have been dictated by Jesus Christ. As that time goes by we find out mystery’s that almighty God allows us to see. Such mysteries are a privilege, and allow for each and every sinner, such as myself, to see a glimpse of Jesus Christ’s handy work, being performed in a fashion that is personal, and meant just for that individual person’s life.
Jesus having had his arms around me and carried me through events that were at the time not clear have been revealed to me in a way that confirms ever more that he is the supreme author and planner of the greatest story and masterpiece that could ever be written. Using hands and a body that knew no formal education and had very few years of any type of upbringing that would leave a clue that someday I would be given the pure gift of the spirit to lay down the words that could maybe help another sinner see what a divine and wonderful almighty God that we all have. I love you Jesus and I know that you came down here to earth and died for my sins and then arose to heaven to return to claim your sheep.
I praise your name almighty for the wife Kristine Merrow that you gave me for my very own. I had such a need when you gave her to me that without her support and love I would have left this world in an unplanned way that wasn’t part of your plan Jesus. Kristine gave me the affection and trust needed to know that all women were not full of bitterness and hate. Kristine’s gentle heart and wonderful presence has always been able to calm my heart when times were difficult. Her beauty is engraved in my eyes and every day she gets prettier. Again thank you Jesus. You lord god have always known what I needed. I also thank you Lord Jesus for my children Jeff Jr, Joseph, Alexis and Harley my son who would teach me really how to be a dad. All my children are special and loved but Harley took life to a new level for me. Harley a creative and talented son looked like my splitting image.
Harley let me learn what it felt like to have a child that needed direction and guidance and then would also return the help with a big hug and a statement of “ I love you dad” Jesus had done that and more for all of my family. Mom afflicted as she was will always be loved by me. It is sometimes hard for others to understand how I could continue to love her after this all had come to pass. The simple answer is Jesus gave me the ability. I will always love you mom and I pray for your soul every day that you will join me and my family in heaven someday.
Jeffrey Brian Merrow
Part 1
The Birth
I Have Arrived Life Will Begin For Me
Genesis 2:7
And the Lord god formed man of the dust of the ground,
and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life;
and man became a living being.
CHAPTER ONE
THE BIRTH
1964 a year that marked the birth of a child named Jeffrey Seale. I would like to tell you nothing was special about this child but that would be a lie. Jeffrey was a well formed baby boy with all the natural things that go with all that. Jeffrey was born to a single mother named Frances Reach. Frances was 22 years old upon her first born child Jeffrey’s birth.
Psalms 22:9, 11
But You are he who took me out of the womb;
You made Me trust while on my mother’s breast.
I was cast upon You from birth.
From My mother’s womb you have been My God.
Be not far from Me,
For trouble is near;
For there is none to help.
Fairfield general Hospital was located in the town of Fairfield, California. The town of Fairfield was located in approximately 30 miles from Frances place of residence Vallejo, California. This Northern California town also served as the home of Frances’ mother Alice Hembre and also her step father Carnie Hembre. Both members like Frances were carbon copies of what Frances would become later in life.
Alice had been a lady who loved the taste of alcohol and men were often a commodity that changed like the daily newspaper headlines. The man Alice had chosen to marry was an Italian immigrant that had made his life successful and full of opportunity. Alice had birthed him Frances, Benny and Sandra. The arrangement between Alice and this man we will call Alford didn’t last very long.
A few years after the birth of Alice’s youngest child Benny Alford chose to flee the scene. This left Sandra 11 years old the oldest of the three, and Frances age 10 the second oldest, along with Benny the youngest by 10 years. Not much is really known of why Alford left Alice but the fact remained he did.This took its toll on Alice and Alford left Alice in the late 1950’s looking as a woman who was immoral. Society didn’t take kindly to a single mother with three children and no husband to boot. The 1950’s lived up to the name of truly being a time in America’s culture when people would judge others pretty stiffly and prejudice ran rampant through America culture.
Alice lived through these rough times and found herself strapped with the burden of raising three children two girls one year apart age 10 and 11 and then there was Benny a child of 1 needing as much attention as possible. Not much is really known as how did Alice survive with the children and support herself. It is speculated that she probably had many men friends that contributed to the basic needs fund that supported Alice’s life style.
As three more years passed Sandy Alice’s oldest daughter of 13 decided to move away from home. Sandra went to Portland, Oregon. She lived with people from time to time that would lend a helping hand and she also got her High School Diploma. She latter entered into Beauty School and pursued a career in the cosmetology field.
Frances stayed on at home with Alice for another year after Sandra her sister left. Alice was a woman who frequented the local bars and consumed too many shots of Whisky for her own good. The men came and went in and out of Alice’s life. Frances and her brother Benny got to watch the fine show that Alice gave a front row ticket to her two children left living with her. Frances and the boy Benny learned real well the facts of life and what it meant to truly be alone. The nurturing and love was just not a part of their upbringing and anything called love had been tossed out long ago. Both children knew how it felt to only have their selves to count on for affection. Jeremiah 12:8, 9
My heritage is to Me like a lion in the forest;
It cries out against Me;
Therefore I have hated it.
My heritage is to Me like a speckled vulture;
The vultures all around are against her.
Come, assemble all the beasts of the field,
Bring them to devour!
Frances tried her best to help her younger brother with his needs. The limited ability she had for an example of just how to do that was meager to say much. Benny as a result grew up to be a frightened and disturbed child. Later in life Benny would prove just how serious the lifestyle he had been forced to live would drive him to the brink of being a notorious outlaw.
As a child of 14 Frances helped her mother Alice as much as possible. It really wasn’t helping to be kind it was more along the lines of if Frances didn’t perform the things requested of her by Alice beatings and cruel punishments would follow.
On numerous occasions Frances had took a beating for little Benny her brother. Benny had developed a bet wetting problem that afflicted him in till he was in his late teens. The doctors’ could not figure out why or how come Benny would do this bed wetting act.
At fourteen Frances decided she no longer could live with Alice anymore. France moved out of the family home and began her life married to a fellow we will call Steve Martinique. Benny was left with Alice and her then new husband Carnie Hembre. Carnie was a local town drunk that had met Alice in the local bar called Duffy’s tavern. Alice would move into a small house located in the bad side of town in the little city of Vallejo, California.
The house was small and only was a one bedroom. The house was small and had no room. Benny had to live in the front room of the house.
Alice having become embarrassed by Benny’s problem decided the best thing was to let Carney build Benny his very own room located away from the house and with no bathroom. What a solution! Carnie Alice’s’ husband was a local contractor who could build just about anything if he was sober enough to do it. Carnie built the room for Benny and furnished it with a single bed one light and a small makeshift desk. Oh and also a white painter buckets to let Benny use as a bathroom. Benny really got the shaft by his own mother.
Benny lived there for many years to follow. But our story really doesn’t start there. The story begins when Frances brings her son home from the hospital in the winter of 1964 to be exact March 29, 1964 Frances
Jeff’s mother having been married by now at least three times and counting brought Jeffrey home from the hospital. Jeffrey wrapped in the most whitest of white blankets and wearing patent white leather booty’s was finally leaving that dingy old county hospital that saw fit to allow Jeff to come into this world.
Upon arriving at their home Frances and her new boyfriend began the walk up the side steps to were Frances resided. The fellow she dated directly in tow behind Frances and the new born infant Jeff. Small crying and gurgling sounds could be heard from the small child wrapped up in a blanket and being held by his mother. The look of smiles and compassion were almost believable by most that could see. Later it would become common knowledge that those looks were only a public show to make the watcher believe there was some sort of affection for this child. Affection was far from the emotion that was truly felt. What was felt was a feeling of desperation and resentment for what this child would cause Frances to experience in life. This child represented that Frances no longer could run the roads and be free.
This child represented that Frances would no longer be able to have the different men coming and going as she had done her whole life so far. Frances learned early in life from her mother the way men could be used as a commodity. Frances had become a master at this very truth she subscribed to.
Frances presented Jeff to the procession of men she so cleverly dated all at the same time. Frances was good at getting what she needed to survive and pay her bills. Shoot Frances had become so good at the game of using those fellows for what each one could provide that she was beginning to actually have a life that was full of wealth. The nine guys that she dated all were navy guys. The navy had a base that was close to Vallejo were we resided at. The Naval Base was called Mare Island Naval Ship Yard. It was a submarine base.
The men would come into town on weekends and be loaded with lots of cash from their paychecks they had been saving up while they were out to sea. My mother Frances saw fit to the fact that most of that money if not all of it was going to be hers. The nine guys she dated were on a rotated deployment of duty. This meant that maybe only two at a given time were on the Base.
Mom knew the schedule well and each week had her dolled up to present them with a blond trophy for a women. She would meet the guys when they came into the docks were there ships would call port. Each and every one of those poor fellows thought that they had made such a terrible mistake and they also knew that they needed to keep my mama happy.
This terrible mistake turns out was the creation of me! Yes I said me! Mama had let them poor guys believe I was their son. Mom was quite believable at pulling this lie off. Turns out she was so good at it that every week mom went to the bar had a little drink and returned with all the cash she needed and some. Mom really was a good looking woman.
Jesus had been watching every footstep that I was taking. At this point in my life this was not known to me and it was far from a concern of mine. The only concerns I seemed to have been getting free from the clutches that embraced my soul. I remember feeling at a very young age of maybe six or seven that the life that I had been given was a curse.
I didn’t know that Jesus was caring for my every need and that his plan would become much more apparent to me in my later life. Jesus had his eye on me all the way. His plan and methods were all intact and grooming me in a manner that would put me to the test of being worthy to perform his work. I can’t tell you I liked it at the time because Jesus was far from the person I thought would care about me. My mother could have passed for Marylyn Monroe. Her blond hair that was always of the latest fashion and her cool steel blue eyes that she cleverly adorned with makeup to bring out her facial features were always up to the task of entertaining any Sailor who might catch a glimpse of her. Mom always dressed in the latest fashion that was on the market. She truly was stunning.
Men would watch my mother arrive at the local navy bar in her 1968 white Cadillac and think that they had found the most wonderful creature that had ever existed. This latter would be far from the truth of what they would say latter and this being a book that was written to glorify God and his plan he had on my life I will not repeat those shameful words but I’m sure you understand what I’m saying.
Life for mom was that of living like a queen. Mom never worked a solid year in her whole life. Men paid her way and all her expenses she could accrue along the given path she has so carefully selected as her course. I loved my mother even though she did these awful things. I still saw her as my mom and that kept me loving her all her life.
Mom had a side of her that often manifested itself. This side that I’m speaking of would cause her to use me as her personal slave and whipping post whenever she so chose too. Life was difficult for me at 9 years of age. My life revolved around mama and what choices that day she had chosen. School for me was a far cry from home. Mama didn’t really care if I went to school and had me stay home with her most often. This complicated my life in many ways.
I became a child who didn’t function academically well. Also as a child I didn’t have the skills to make friends with children my own age. The results were terrible. Mama didn’t allow me to be a normal child of 9 years of age. Mama didn’t allow me to play outside or get into anything that might mean that I wouldn’t be around to serve her needs.
When I was 9 washing the dishes was a fun thing to do. But as time went on and mama saw that she could exploit me as her personal attendant and house cleaner it became not so fun. Dishes were an everyday task at least three times a day. Polishing and waxing the new dining room set with its stainless steel base and its smoked glass top was a task done by me every day. And lord has mercy if I didn’t get every handprint off the glass top of that table.
The stainless steel bases to the chairs were also a project my mama had on my daily task list along with trash, vacuum the house, wax the furniture, shine the windows, laundry, clean the bathrooms and anything else that her precious heart could come up with. Life was miserable it took me almost the whole day to accomplish these tasks. There was no time for school mama didn’t care about that and at the end of the day there wasn’t time to play outside because mama didn’t allow that it wasn’t good for her needs.
Please mama stop beating me please mama stop was my cry that came from my lips. The broom handle hurt so badly as she pumped it back and forth into my arms and legs. The broom left welts and bruises all over me. I tried to escape mama’s beatings for missing the dusting of the base of the table top under the dining table glass. I would try to keep her from hitting me with that broom handle by crawling under the very table I was getting beaten for she still beat me good. Sometimes the beating would last a long time. My greatest fear was for her to get me by my hair and take her fingers and put them into the sides of my mouth and stretch my mouth because I couldn’t stop screaming from the pain of the beating.
Sometimes my mouth would feel like it was coming apart she would pull so hard and all the while she would be yelling at me how I had ruined her life by being born. I don’t know how it was my entire fault because I had two other brothers by then.
Jesus watched over me at this point in my life and the truth be told my mom was a person who had become enlisted by the devil to be an instrument that would destroy me. I loved my mother even though she had these violent outbursts and beat me with such vitality. The pain and bruises were many from these beatings but the lord god almighty shielded me in every blow that mom handed down to me.
I never once suffered a broken bone because of her beatings. She could hit pretty hard and I was a child that was fairly skinny and fragile. Her broom never broke a bone. And the pain that came from the swelled welts that the broom or wooden spoon could leave on me was ugly. The real mystery was that I remember there coming a point that the beatings didn’t hurt long like they should have. Jesus I’m sure was standing right there with his arms around me and taking those beatings right along with me.
I knew the story of Jesus crucifixion and often thought about how the Romans had beat him to a point of unrecognizable. I wondered how he could take those beatings with those awful whips. I wondered if he cried like I did when the pain was so unrelenting that you felt like your insides were being ripped away. I knew the answer Jesus had gone through far worse than I had ever been subjected to. Jesus had bleed from every pore in his body because the pain was so awful. They had nailed him to a cross and then pierced his side with a spear.
My little beatings were nothing compared to our Lord Jesus and what he went through for me and you. Jesus had allowed me to see things like that at an early life. My knowledge of him dyeing on the cross to save the world was given to me at a very early age. I didn’t follow his teachings well at this age but I did know about him and I did believe that he had died for me and was raised on the third day for all to see.
Barry was my second youngest brother and Wally was the youngest they both were dead by the time I was 10. My first brother died because he was severely handicapped and my second brother Wally died due to complications at birth. My step father said good old mom hit herself in the stomach to cause herself to go into labor. I believe this was a true fact but I don’t know I can’t remember the details. And I have learned never to believe what you don’t know to be fact or seen by you personally.
CHAPTER TWO
THE EARLY YEARS
Life at twelve years of age had been pretty intense and full of abuse. My life had seemed like a nightmare to say things in the least. My school work and academic standing had been crippled by the fact of me not being able to go to school. My mother and her dysfunctional ways had saw to the fact of me becoming an academic handicap. The men had come and gone in and out of my mother’s life as long as I could remember. Some had actually been good to me but they lasted only long enough to become familiar. Any chance of thinking of one as a dad was far from a reality. I was lost and alone in life without a clue of what would happen to me. Nobody cared about me and nobody came to my rescue. This is what I thought in the early years of my life. How far from the truth it truly was to even had said that comment.
Psalms 23:1, 6
The Lord is my shepard;
I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are3 with me;
Your rod and Your staff , they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever
San Diego was a neat place to live in and the lady my mother called Big Mama was pretty nice to me. Big Mama liked kids and had two adopted daughters of her own. My mother and Big Mama would talk for hours while I sat and looked at this great big stack of National Geographic’s. Big Mama had national Geographic’s from the 1950s to the early 1970s. There were so many wonderful pictures in these magazines and they allowed me to read them as often as I liked. I think it was more or less to keep me out of their hair. I read them from sun up to sun down and learned about so many different things.
The National Geographic’s were my escape from reality of being abused by my mother. I even read the advertisements in those magazines. Cover to cover every day I continued to read for almost a year.
At the time that all this was going on and I was finding such great delight in reading those National Geographic’s I didn’t know again that Jesus was again grooming me for what would come in 33 years from that time. Writing for the glory of god was far from what I thought I would ever be doing. My academic skills dictated that I would be a complete dummy and never amount to anything. I look back now and know Jesus truly is not a respecter of a person’s title or natural abilities.
Jesus was perfecting a skill that would let me know exactly how a real and proper writer would bring a story to the ears of a sinner. Jesus was fast at work he even had me read the advertisements in the national Geographic’s. This I’m sure was Jesus adding a little humor to my education. Like Paul the lord god was raising me up to become an instrument that would fumble the minds of the unbelieving and quicken the hearts of the believers. Jesus was at the helm of this ship and I was along for the ride.
At the end of the year in 1977 I was a proficient reader. This wasn’t from going to school. My academics were terrible except for reading. Math, spelling, social studies and any other subject were just so far from being on par with a child of the same age. I didn’t know it but God had been creating in me a person that would latter goes on to have an amazing life. As time had its way my mother began to get bored with San Diego, California and we moved back to northern California Vallejo to be exact.
Grandma Alice would watch me while my mother Frances would go out on evening dates with men from the Base. Grandma Alice would let me play and often go to the store for her. Grandma Alice was pretty nice to me. I often ate apples and peaches that she grew in her yard. She had an old house that smelled like an old person. In the house was the small front room with brown leather furniture and a console TV.
In the kitchen the house had an old gas stove and one small table that my grandpa Carnie sat at every day. On the table was an old radio that he listened to the news with every morning. Carnie was a Brick Mason. The house was painted an avocado green inside with a linoleum floor that looked like white and black checker boards. In the single bedroom that the bathroom was attached to was Grandma Alice’s old cherry wood bed. She also had a dresser and one single dingy old light to illuminate the whole room. The bathroom had a claw legged white porcelain tub that looked like the size of a duck pond to me. I often bathed in it when I stayed with my grandma.
One day my mom came up Grandma Alice’s driveway and told me that she had something she needed to tell me. I was excited what could it be? Would it be something fun? Nope not any of those things was what she needed to say to me. She had a man with dark hair and an Army uniform on with her.
My mother introduced me as her son and told him how wonderful I was as a son. Mom often did this same thing every time I met someone that she called her new boyfriend. His name was Wally. Wally seemed pretty nice and reached up to shake my boney hand. I shook it like a man. He commented on what a firm strong grip I had. Wally’s comment made me like him right away.
I didn’t know that this man would be an instrument of gods to give me a legal and proper last name. The name that I had been given was not my real fathers name. My real father had denied me as his son in a court of law. My mother turns out had been a real trouble to him and had made many problems that caused him to abandon me as his real son. Years later I would see him and the resemblance would be uncanny. I didn’t hate him for leaving me to a heritage that was devoid of him. I understood mom could be very evil and mean.
The lord almighty did provide a heritage for me I was adopted and given the name Merrow for a last name. I was proud of this last name. My step father really loved me and he was the only real father who showed it. Jesus had again provided me a heritage and a genealogy that would have heroes and interesting people of all sorts. Jesus had planned my whole life well in advance.
Mom told me that she and Wally were going to get married. I couldn’t believe my ears. Finally I was going to have a real dad. My grandma Alice couldn’t believe it either. Mom said her and Wally had fallen in love and that he was getting sent to Viet Nam in the next six months so it was of the most importance for her and him to get hitched quickly.
I didn’t go to the wedding I stayed at Grandma Alice’s house while my mother got married. It was no big deal because as long as I stayed with Grandma Alice I got to play and be a regular child. The only problem was that if my mom came to get me without calling and I was dirty from playing outside I got a Severe beating and Grandma Alice got a tough lashing that was full of vulgar words.
Grandma Alice didn’t take those tough lashings laying down she dished them back at good old mom with all the flavor and sweet words mom injected them with. Grandma Alice would ask my mom why she didn’t want me to play outside and be normal. My mother always had an excuse that I was ill or couldn’t be exposed to things that would make me sick. That was far from the truth. My mother always wanted me to appear as a child well taken care of and a model of what she had invested all her hard time into.
We left Grandma Alice’s house and drove to San Diego. Along the way my new step father talked and argued with my mother about him having to go off to the war. He said that he needed to go and my mother insisted that they could just go to Canada and hide from the military. My new step father didn’t want to do this. This was against his personal patriotic beliefs. We were on the way to San Diego to get the $2500 that was promised for my father’s reenlistment money for staying in the service another three years. We were running out of gas along the way and we didn’t even have money for gas.
I remember being terrible hungry and had hunger pains that made me sick. All along the freeway we had been traveling there were lots of orange trees with big old oranges on them. We all were so hungry and broke that we pulled over and got some of those oranges to eat. Those oranges were so good that I can remember eating them to I was stuffed like a hog. We finally arrived at Camp Pendleton, California.
Camp Pendleton was an army base. My new step dad went and got us a hotel room on the base. He said he would be back in a while and left me and my mother there. He also gave us some change that we used to get some soup from the vending machines located out in the hall of the hotel.
Wally returned early the next morning with the $2500 he had been promised. My mother was terrible excited. She began telling him how much she loved him and needed him not to go to Viet Nam. Wally kept asking what she thought he should do. She said that we all should run off to Canada and that the United States Government couldn’t touch my step father there. Well guess what? Yes you guessed correct we were on our way fleeing to hide in good old Canada.
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