Your Comeback Story

Drugs, spurs, and a small town Texas

A few years ago, I drove an hour and a half to the small town of Normangee, Texas, for a screening of Breaking Strongholds, a show I had worked on for a few years.

The small-town church that organized the screening was like one you’d see in a movie, with attendees ranging from an old lady walking with a cane, all the way down to ten-year-olds. After screening, I went on stage to share a few stories. I began with a story of when I was sixteen, the same age as some of the kids in the room.

I was an insecure kid with a troubled childhood. I didn’t know who I was or what I would do with my life until one day, when I saw a military man walking through my high school campus.

Everything about this guy said he was proud, his chest out, determination in his eyes, a sharp uniform; he seemed to be on a mission.

I knew that instant, I wanted to be like him, someone who was strong and confident with a purpose in life. Right then, at 15 years old, I decided to join the military. I celebrated my 18th birthday in boot camp, and my 21st birthday in Kuwait, preparing to enter Iraq.

Camp Pendleton, circa 2000.

I told the audience that every one of them would likely have a similar moment, a moment after which everything changes, when they’d say, ‘That’s what I’ll do with my life.’

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I shared one of my favorite quotes from Emerson.

“A person will worship something . . . therefore, it behooves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshiping we are becoming.”

All humans end up worshiping something; some worship rock bands, like Metallica. Many will worship money or power. Others worship pop stars, like Cardi B. One kid in the audience had a Tupac shirt on. Another wore a Guns N’ Roses shirt. I pointed them out. The audience had bought in; they were nodding their understanding.

I said, “But what we choose to worship, we become a little more like, every day.”

Often, people throw their lives off course by choosing to worship the wrong thing. I shared that I’d messed my life up many times this way.

What we choose to worship becomes the story we tell with our lives. All of us are telling stories with our lives. We tell them to those we interact with and to those observing us from afar, and at the end of our lives, we will look back and survey the stories we told and decide if they were meaningful.

My favorite stories are comeback stories. The ones where the odds are stacked against the underdog who shouldn’t be able to make it, but somehow the hero emerges, wins the battle, and saves the day.

Some of my favorites include the first four Rocky movies. Also, the real-life story of Robert Downey Jr., who became hopelessly addicted to drugs and had to be re-habilitated before he went on to play one of the most iconic superhero roles in movie history, Iron Man.

Another one I love is the story of Michael Jordan, who tried out for the varsity basketball team as a sophomore, but didn’t make the roster because the coaches believed he was too short.

Rather than quit, Jordan used the experience as fuel. He reportedly went home, locked himself in his room, and cried, then emerged with an intense motivation.

Jordan dedicated himself to relentless practice, waking up early before school to train. By his junior year, he’d grown several inches and made the varsity team. We know the rest of his story.

I asked the audience if they had any favorite comeback stories they’d like to share, and a young kid raised his hand. He was no older than eleven. I asked him to join me in front of the room to tell his story. As he walked toward the front, I heard clanking with every step. I asked if he was wearing spurs on his boots.

“Yes, Sir,” he said proudly.

Someone in the back hollered, “Welcome to Normangee, Texas.”

“Tell us about your favorite comeback story,” I said.

“My life is a comeback story. When I was two years old, my mom and dad were mixed up in drugs. One day, some really bad people came to my house. They pulled guns on my parents, and there was a shootout in my living room. One of the bullets hit me in the chest. I almost died in the hospital, but I made it.” He became very sad and finished, “My parents have been in prison ever since.”

I was completely blown away and wasn’t sure what to say. I composed myself, smiled at the kid, then said, “Don’t ever stop telling that story because God will use it—He can use the good and the bad things in our life and use them for His Glory.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. I asked him his name, and he gave it to me. His voice trembled a little, and I could see the pain in his face. I thanked him for his courage and said, “When I was a young man your age, my parents were mixed up in drugs too, so you know, you and me, we’re kind of the same.”

He smiled at me, still holding back tears, and said, “Yes, Sir.”

It was all I could do to hold back my own tears as I finished my talk.

“We’ve heard some great comeback stories today, but can anyone tell me the greatest comeback story of all time?”

A young man in the front row shot his hand up and said, “The story of Jesus.”

Every now and then, a story is so powerful that it stays with the audience forever. I’ll never forget that young man’s story, his courage to share it, and what he’d already overcome at such a young age.

I believe everyone has a story to tell. What’s yours?

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