June 15, 1999.
From this day forward, Jesus, I am yours. Today is the day that I have chosen to give everything to you. Father, I have been lost for quite some time now. I have lived to please everyone but myself. I know who I am, Lord, I just don’t know how I’m supposed to be. I don’t know if I’m a nice or spiteful person. I have knowingly destroyed my self-confidence and self-worth in order to remain friends or to keep confusion at a minimum. I have been unable to speak my mind for the longest time. Today, Father, was the last day of the old Dre. Father, I am going to take risks, say things I probably shouldn’t, and do things I’ll more than likely regret. Please walk with me. I want to discipline myself until it hurts. I am great, Father. I know deep down inside of me that there is a man that is waiting to be born. Reach down inside of me, Father, and help me bring him out. Open your hands, Lord, so that I may place my hands in yours. Whisper sweet encouragements in my ear. Sharpen my sword of prayer. Lift my voice above any another. Breathe the breath of faith into my lungs so that I am able to sustain an even pace. I am headed out, Father.
The first 35 years of my life, Father, I hid the token that you gave me. I felt as though I buried it for whatever reason. I don’t know if it is fear that I might have to live up to something, self-confidence, or if this is who I really am. The next thirty years, Father, I am going to fight for who I am. I believe opening my mouth and sharing who I am is the greatest thing that I can do for you Lord, and myself. Lord, I feel as though I have to be angry to stay focused and stand up for myself. Father, you know my heart and you know that I am writing this prayer because I am angry. I am angry because of who I’ve become. I don’t want to have to be angry, Father, to pray. I don’t want to be angry, Father, to stay focused. You said, Father, if a man wants wisdom, let him ask. Well, here I am, Father, asking for wisdom to find other ways to keep me focused on you because I know in you, Father, I don’t have to be angry. Help me find out who Dre is, Father!
I feel like I’m fighting against everyone and everything, and I’m starting to lose. They’re winning, Lord. They tell me that I try to be different. I go against the grain—that I’m difficult. Maybe I am all these things. I’m going to find out. They tell me speak your mind. Stand up for yourself. When I try it, Lord, they’re the first to cry. It seems like I’m going to be the only one traveling through the wide gate because everybody else can’t be wrong. I don’t know when I should be quiet. I don’t know when I should speak. I don’t know when to walk away, and I don’t know when to stay. Today, Father, I’m going to take a chance. Right, wrong, good decision, bad decision, someone’s feelings hurt or not. It’s not going to make a difference. But will I be happy with what I find? Was I silent because my words tear down instead of building up? What if when I find myself, I find myself alone, sad, angry, and bitter? Maybe I was kind to people only because I found so many faults in me. Maybe if I gain some confidence in myself, I’ll treat people wrong.
Jesus, I’m scared. But I have to do something before you take back what I believe you gave me. Stand by me, Father. Today, Father, I am yours!