When I was a child in foster care, there were times I was very hungry, very scared, and very lost.
There were times when I didn't have enough to eat. I learned early to accept what they gave me and not complain.
I remember one foster home where they had dogs. I would get so hungry that whenever I had a chance, I would take some of the dog food, put it in my pocket, and hide it in the closet.
I had hunger pains, and I knew if I kept some of that dog food hidden, at least some of that pain could go away.
At night, it wasn't the best-tasting food, but it was something. It would relieve the hunger for a little while.
I did what I needed to do.
I felt like I had no other choice.
I know that may sound crazy to somebody who has never experienced that kind of hunger, but some things become ingrained in your mind when you have lived through them.
Throughout my childhood, I was shy and kept to myself. I learned that if I voiced my opinion or spoke up, it could come back to haunt me.
I remember being disciplined by being made to kneel while holding large, heavy cans in front of me. If those cans fell, I knew what could come next—the belt.
So I learned to stay quiet.
But inside me, I had something they couldn't see.
I had a fire.
During the day, I pictured that fire inside me. I felt like I had to keep it going because that fire meant I still had life inside me. When it started to flicker, I had to stay strong enough to keep it burning.
At night, there was another fire.
It wasn't a real campfire. It was a place I created in my mind when I prayed.
At that campfire, it was just me and God.
Most nights when I prayed, I was crying.
My prayer was simple:
Help me make another day.
At that campfire, I felt protected. I felt safe. I felt loved and accepted.
During the day, I had to deal with the abuse, the neglect, the hunger, and the rules. But I would think about nighttime because I knew I could go back to that campfire in my mind and sit with God again.
When there was nobody there to say, "I love you," or hold me tight, that fire gave me warmth and comfort.
That fire kept me alive during the day, and it kept me alive at night.
Today, when I look back at that little boy, I would tell him something I couldn't have completely understood then:
The fire inside you saved your life.
And that campfire with God helped you survive. It became a place where you found love, comfort, and peace within your heart, mind, and soul.
As a grown man, I still carry that mindset with me.
You have to have a fire inside you.
You have the match inside you to succeed.
But you also need discipline, determination, and dedication to make your world complete.
That little boy didn't know where his life was going.
Sometimes all he was trying to do was make it to the next day.
But he kept the fire burning.
