When We Fail GOD:

What started out as a typical day: the birds chirping in the sky, the squirrels in my trash can. The children running to catch the school bus. Then I remembered something from my past…

As if I was present but with my eyes, I was transported. The air was bitter cold. My teeth chattered. I saw the window she’d climb through to get in my bed for a quick nap and go back out on the street.

We all knew she had a drug addiction. I was about nine years old at the time. Sneaking my Aunt through the window. My mother said she needs tough love. I disagreed, but I knew not to talk back to her or that would be a quick slap in the mouth.

It went on for months, tapping the window, I’d let her in. She’d be crying saying that she didn’t want to die out there in the street.

Krissy pray, for me, would you?
I don’t think I was the right person.
I said to myself. Why didn’t she go to a pastor or Rehab but I tried.

I said Lord help her…
That was the end of my prayer watching her strung out. Climbing in and out of my window. And when she didn’t come home.

I’d say, mom. She’d answer: I know, she’s missing right.

We’d all get in the car and drive to abandon houses where crack addicts slept in the gutters of dilapidated property’.Then ask around at gas stations.

Then we went home that day without any progress.

The next morning, mommy said she was going to check the hospitals and sure enough we found her.

She could barely talk, out of a full body cast.
What happened?

Aunt Trisha: I was at a gas station: I was going to get my life right. You know change for good. That’s when I asked this man for a ride home. He said yea. So I hopped in. But the second he pulled off, he pulls out a gun.

Now we are on the highway I-80 going eighty miles per hour. He says to take off your clothes and I yell Jesus I’m tired, I’m tired…

I unbutton my shirt as I pushed on the door as hard as I could. I jumped onto the highway. I saw an eighteen wheeler headed straight for me. I ball up, just started rolling and rolling. I just knew I was dead. I knew it…

I didn’t feel my body hit the pavement.
I didn’t feel not one bone brake…

It’s no way I’d survive this.

For the next few months, Aunt Trisha came home to live with us. Every day before and after school my sister and I washed her. Bathed her down in medical solution and ointment, wrapped her up as best as possible.

I watched her skin fall off in my hands, her flesh was raw and opened. She stunk really bad. The whole house smelled like her – rotten mold decaying by the second.

After eight months she could use the crutches and my sister and I were no longer her live-in nurses.

Aunt Trisha: I wanna thank you, girls, for taking care of me. And for my big sister letting me stay here. I’ve signed for rehab and they’ve got a spot for me. She sobbed…

All we could do was wrap our arms around her.

Have we failed God? Surely I have…

My aunt Trisha cleaned up her life for a moment and in a few years, she was back out on the street. it wasn’t until she found herself pregnant with her first child and high once more, that she saw me in the driveway learning to drive.

Krissy, she shouted but her belly met me first. She started sobbing, pray for me I don’t wanna to do crack and have this baby.

This time I’m older, I lead her through the prayer of faith… God move this mountain when we are weak be strong in us. When we fail, help us to go harder after you…
Needless to say, her daughter is turning eighteen this year and Trisha has been clean for fourteen years and counting…

The ups and downs of walking a faith life:

is simply keep going. God does the fixing we keep believing and that goes for me too.
~your kindness sister Krissy Mosley signing off…

(true stories from my life and I have more to tell) thank you for reading …♥


Published by: Visionariekind

Krissy Mosley is a story-teller. Recalling history to build bridges of peace. A folklorist to bring sounds of joy and healing vibrations. Krissy Marie is a writer /feminist, mother advocating for change surrounding women’s rights and women's’ issues.

Categories Poetry12 Comments

12 thoughts on “When We Fail GOD:”

  1. I love this so much. It made me remember my own past: how my Aunt Beverly lived with us as she recovered from being shot twice in the head by her own son. Memory is painful, but necessary for healing. Thank you, Krissy!

    1. wow, thank you for sharing this. Powerful and what a miracle… Goodness, you know Loristrawn writing that it was like a burden lifted that I didn’t realize I was carrying so thank you for sharing that with me… yes I could only imagine that memory to be very painful, you are so right truly needed for healing 🙂 wow what testimony to be shot and live… the mysteries of GOD

    2. Wow, Lori, I had no idea! I can’t imagine the pain your aunt must have suffered. You’re so right about the pain of remembering. It can be cathartic to release it, and let the healing begin.

  2. Makes me think of the story about Jesus walking through town and the woman reaching out her hand to touch his robe. He’s not on the streets anymore but he left his wardrobe. and you were wearing the most bright and beautiful coat! thank yu for this amazing story and for taking me here!

    1. wow, thank you kindly: you are so precious to me my friend – you & your ministry was on my heart during the night and I began to pray…. thank you for your words always minister to me 🙂 May God add unto you good measure press down and running over Maren

  3. An amazing boldness to care for an adult as a child. Your strength have grown as the new boldness in you is shown in your writings. Love you for vulnerability. Now I will share my mother was your aunt & I did not have the boldness to love her back. My hat is off to you. You truly are Visionary Kindness❤

  4. Krissy, I read this on my phone and I couldn’t even press “Like” yet cuz I knew I had to post a comment! Ran to the laptop (takes too long for me to type on the phone) to tell you how moving this story is to me. This is your witness. This should be a stage play. You’ve described it so vividly, I can see it as it happens! Everyone can relate to the themes: black hole of (fill in the blank – addiction, poverty, abuse), reaching out, falling again, compassion of long-suffering family members, and finally, redemption. It didn’t get neatly wrapped up after she recovered from her injuries; she fell and got up again. I think this is the walk of faith in a nutshell: holding on, getting through, rising up. Calling on God. Just glorious.

    1. Wow, powerful- Ruth. Thank you so much… Indeed you are right its the falling and getting up that is the walk of faith. I appreciate every word, you are blessing thank you kindly… It’s life-changing 🙂

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