TESTIFY | I’m Coming Down Your Street…Where Are Ya?

I’m Coming Down Your Street…Where Are Ya?
by Damainion Ewell

Allow me to preface this by saying that I am neither a preacher nor a pastor. To be quite honest, I am not even a blogger. I am simply a man that God blessed with a unique gift of wordplay. It is not my journey in life to show off my eloquence of speech or to show myself to be more articulate than I am. I am a merely a humble servant of Jesus Christ, the savior and Lord of my soul. In my limited amount of time in my Christian walk, I have found that my greatest calling will be to elevate those who are less fortunate.

Luke 10:30-37 (KJV) says “And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee. Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves? And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.” All of us have needed to be picked up at some point in our lives, and many times we have failed to reciprocate the blessing that was bestowed upon us. For many of us, if Jesus did not dig deep into the muck and the mire that was our lives, we would still be in that same place right now.

As I stated before, I am not a pastor or some worldwide evangelist that entertains massive crowds of people. I have a heart to pick up a person’s brokenness and make every attempt to alleviate their pain until the LORD releases them to bless someone else. It is my mission with the help of God to reach the heart of the person who is reading this. I am coming down your street, and God is my proverbial GPS tracking system.

To that person who has a sick child and feels as if there is no God, let me share a small piece of my testimony. I have a five year-old son who was diagnosed with autism four years ago. The doctors nearly proclaimed him to be a lost cause. They declared that he would never speak, show emotion or have any independence of his own. They said that he would never love, have meaningful relationships or even master minuscule tasks. One night in my prayer room, I lifted up my son to the LORD and offered him up as a sacrifice. As a result, his autism has virtually vanished. He is now the jovial, loving child that the LORD has called him to be. He has come so far that he will begin Kindergarten in late September. So…I have come to make Satan the liar that he is! Do not give up, and do not think that this is over. The same God who brought my child out is going to bring your child out. That same undeserved blessing that was given me will be given to you. God does not love my child anymore than He loves yours, and I am in agreement with you that your child is coming out of this!

To that person who was molested as a child and can’t seem to get past it, allow me to offer you a few words of comfort. I was molested by two of my uncles, and it wrecked a major part of my youth. Externally, I looked well and played the part. But internally, I was a monster in the making. I struggled with my sexuality in my teenage years and had relations with any woman that blinked an eye. I compromised my soul as my confusion brawled with my integrity. Those same issues crept into my adult years and made a mockery of my self-image. It was only when I totally submitted my heart, soul and mind unto Jesus Christ that I finally got the victory. I cannot sit behind this computer and think that you may die because this fight is killing you. If you are reading this and I am talking to you, please realize that you are not fighting this by yourself. I love you and don’t even know you, and I want to see you break this yoke that is around your neck. Victory comes when you let the LORD provide you with the salve that will saturate your very being. I had to humble myself and give up every contrary idea that clouded my head to finally have some peace in my life. I am here to pick you up help you pick up every broken piece in your life.

To that person that struggling with any sort of drug addiction, let me share a tiny piece of my life with you. I started drinking at a very young age. I can recall being drunk at twelve years old, falling and stumbling everywhere. When I was a freshman in high school, I used to drink malt liquor on the school bus. I would intentionally sit in the back and drink out of a brown paper bag. I would steal a few of my mother’s food stamps and give them to an adult, who would provide me with whatever liquor I desired. I had bottles of malt liquor stashed in my locker at school. I was even brazen enough to empty out the chocolate milk cartons and fill them with alcohol during lunch. Once that malt liquor phase came and went, I developed a taste for vodka. As a young adult, there was not a day that went by where I did not have a bottle of Grey Goose and a carton of Ocean Spray cranberry juice within arm’s reach. I loved it, and in many ways, I idolized it. It did not matter to me that I could ruin my life and the lives of those around me with my drinking. Even my drunken silliness and subsequent passing out did not matter. All I knew was that Grey Goose was the king, and everything else came in second place. It was only when I decided to ditch the bottle and run into the comforting arms of Jesus that every bottle of liquor was poured down the drain. It has been nearly four years since I have drank anything stronger than a Diet Pepsi. If you are reading this and I am talking to you, I am in the fight with you. I know the difficulties of saying no when the drugs or alcohol is calling you by your first name. I know what it is to lie, cheat and steal to get your fix. I love you too much to sit here and not attempt to lift you up. You WILL NOT die, and this devilish device WILL NOT kill you. I want you to know that the LORD will set you on a high that no drug or drink can give you.

To the reader who has no friends and walks around with a spirit of loneliness hovering around you, please know that I love you with all my heart. I grew up in dreadfully poor conditions. There were times I could remember having to wear my mother’s pants to school. I did not bathe all that much, my hair was filthy and I could not afford underclothes. Kids were cruel and picked on me in the most callous of ways. As residents urinated in the hallways and crack-cocaine was passed around, I roamed the earth in a state of despondency. My molestation was the standard by which I measured love and relationships. I had no confidence or confidants. There was no shield to protect me or an umbrella to prevent the soaking. I allowed myself to be used just to hear my name be called in a crowd. I was taught that I was ugly and nothing virtuous would come my way. Even as the tears flow down my face as I write these words, there are still lingering issues of abandonment in my heart. But to that reader that feels worthless and insignificant, please know that God loved you before the foundation of the world. Just as I am called during this time and in this dispensation, so are you. I love you too much to sit back and think about someone suffering the same affliction as I. I refuse to let Satan and his devilish ways try to destroy what Jesus shed his blood for.

If you are reading this and are hurting in one way or another, I want to get in the fight with you. The joy of my heart comes from knowing that I can make a difference in your life. I do not want your money or your worldly possessions. I want to pick up every shattered piece of your life and help to reconstruct it back together. I have been hurt, wrecked and almost choked out by the clutches of despair. But Jesus Christ is the yoke breaker. What He has done for me, He is waiting to do for you. It is my effectual, fervent prayer that God will use me to be the vessel by which your complete healing comes. I love you and I am praying victory over your circumstances.


Damainion Ewell is a well-traveled freelance journalist and a man on a mission. Formerly known in many secular arenas as “The Millennium Writer,” Damainion took a God-imposed hiatus from journalism in late 2005 to concentrate on his family and other personal endeavors. Nearly two years later, Damainion is on the brink of his writing comeback, with a singular mission in mind: to glorify the name of Jesus Christ with every word that he writes. Damainion is currently working on two Christian literary offerings and enjoying life with his wife of seven years and their three wonderful children.