The Women of Duck Commander (13 page)

The next day, I saw a television commercial for some kind of religious TV show. The ad said something like, “Do you want peace, hope, and a reason for living? Do you want someone to love you and never let you go?” I turned up the volume just as the announcer said, “Then call this number.”

So I called that number and told the woman who answered, “I want to speak with that man who is on TV talking about peace, hope, and love. It’s an emergency. I need to talk to him right away.”

The man’s name was Bill Smith. When I saw him, I knew exactly who he was. Phil’s sister was a member of his church, and months earlier she had brought him to the bar hoping he could talk some sense into Phil, but Phil would not listen to him. I didn’t care whether Phil wanted to hear what Bill Smith had to say or not. I did.

When I got to his church, White’s Ferry Road Church, and met with him, the first question he asked me was if I thought I would go to heaven when I died.

“Of course I’d go to heaven. You have no idea what I have been through and what I have put up with from my husband.” Then I told him how hard I had fought for my marriage and how faithful I had been, even though Phil had done terrible things.

The preacher asked me if I thought I had earned my way to heaven. I certainly did!

He then asked me if I had any peace or hope in my life. That was my problem. My peace and hope had run out years earlier. I now see what a disconnect was going on in my mind. I thought I had earned my way to God, but I wasn’t at peace and I had lost all hope.

He then shared the gospel with me, and I realized two things. First, I realized I never really had my own faith. For many years, I’d lived off my grandmother’s faith, but faith was not deeply personal for me. Second, I saw that I really was a good person, but I was a good person without Jesus Christ, and I desperately needed Him. That very day, before I left the church, I confessed to Jesus, made Him Lord of my life, and was baptized. Needless to say, I felt so
much better! I had peace in my heart, and best of all, I had hope again.

Everyone in the church that day was so happy for me. The janitor, the housekeeper, and the church secretary all gave me big hugs. “You’re part of our family now! We’ll be there for you, and you can be there for us,” they said.

That’s nice
,
I
thought,
but my husband is a drunk.

A
T
L
EAST
O
NE OF
U
S
C
HANGED

Preacher Smith was a very wise man. He knew that no matter what had happened for me that day, nothing at all had happened for Phil. He gave me a clear warning before I went home, telling me that even though I had become a Christian and I would never be alone and God would never leave me, that didn’t mean Phil would act any better. He would still be the same person I had struggled with for years. He would still get drunk, be mean, and do the same things he had always done.

I continued to stay with Phil because I knew God would help me. I prayed and prayed for him; the boys did too. I would invite the preacher over to talk to Phil and Phil would slip out the back door as the preacher came in the front, and he sometimes stayed gone for days. But I was still determined to fight for my marriage. Then one night I was late coming home from work and Phil again accused me of running around on him. He yelled at me, saying he was sick of me. He said I was bad to live with before, but now I was a holy roller and a goody-two-shoes. According to Phil at the time, I thought I
was “the judge of the world.” I did not think that at all. I was just trying to stay sane and keep my boys safe.

At that point, Phil said angrily, “You are messing up my life. I can’t live with you. I want you and your kids to get out.”

“I have fought for this marriage,” I replied, “and you are kicking me out?”

Yes he was. He wanted me gone from his life. When I tell this story, I make a point to emphasize the fact that
I did not leave
. I got thrown out, and I was heartbroken.

The boys and I went to a relative’s house, and I was hoping we could stay there for a while. But even though this man was a close relative on Phil’s side of the family, he would only allow us in his home for one night. He was just as afraid of Phil as I was, maybe more so. He was terrified of what Phil might do to him and his family if Phil knew we were staying with them.

M
Y
C
HURCH
B
ECOMES
M
Y
F
AMILY

The only people I knew to turn to was my church family. I knew the people at White’s Ferry Road would help me. Someone there helped me arrange an income-based apartment. When I took a relative to the place I had been living with Phil so we could get the things the boys and I needed, she saw how hurt I was, and she was angry with Phil for the way he had treated the boys and me. She suggested we destroy everything that belonged to him. I had one answer for that:
“I don’t retaliate.” As much as Phil had hurt me, hurting him in return went against my nature and, by then, against my Christian beliefs.

In our little apartment, the boys and I had a very small television. We’d had a larger one when we lived with Phil, but he’d kept it and the boys really missed it. I told them I didn’t care what kind of TV we had; we needed to be focused on studying the Bible. So that’s what we did; we studied the Bible and we all got on our knees and prayed for Phil, every day.

Even though Phil had treated me badly, there was a hole in my heart after he kicked out the boys and me. I so desperately wanted God to change him. I prayed, the boys prayed, and I got everybody I knew to pray with us. My friends at work prayed for our family; I took Bible classes at church and asked everyone in every class to pray for my husband. I even remember standing in line at Walmart one day and asking the woman behind me, “Do you pray?” When she said yes, I told her about Phil. I knew only God could change things for us and that the way to get to Him was through prayer.

About three months later, I went to lunch one day with a friend from work. When we returned to the Howard Brothers offices, I saw Phil’s old truck in the parking lot. My friend asked me if I wanted her to call the police, and I said, “No, I’ll go talk to him. Just watch me through the window. If anything happens, then call them.” As I walked toward the truck and saw Phil bent over the steering wheel, I assumed he was drunk. He was not; he was crying. I opened the door of the truck and for the first time in my life saw huge tears flowing down his face. I’ll never forget what he said: “I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I want my family back, and I am never going to drink again.”

My first thought was,
This is the man I want. This one, right here.
But I had enough sense not to say that right away.

“Phil, you can’t do it by yourself,” I told him. “You need help. You really need help.”

“Are you talking about God?” he asked.

“Yep, that’s it,” I answered.

“I don’t know how to find Him,” said Phil.

“Well, I do,” I responded. “You be back in this parking lot at five o’clock and follow me home. I’ll have someone there to talk to you.”

Phil agreed. Back in my office, I called Bill Smith, told him what happened, and asked him to come to my apartment at five fifteen that evening to talk to Phil. He said he would have to check his calendar.

“
Check your calendar?
” I said, almost in disbelief. “What on earth could be more important than this lost soul?”

He must have realized I was right, because he immediately said, “I’ll be there.”

T
HE
T
URNAROUND
B
EGINS

When Phil walked into our apartment that night, the boys were so happy. The first thing they wanted to know was whether he’d brought back the big TV. All Phil could say was, “I didn’t know I was supposed to do that.” He looked around the sparse room where we had been living and said, “You should have gotten more stuff.” It never was about stuff to me. The last thing we needed during that time was more stuff.

Bill Smith and his wife, Margaret, arrived right at five fifteen. Phil looked at him and immediately said, “I don’t trust people.”

Smith held up his copy of the Bible and asked, “Do you trust this?”

“Yes,” said Phil. “And I am going to check out everything you say.”

The preacher said to me, “Get a pencil so Phil can write everything down.”

Margaret and I took the boys into a little back room and we prayed and prayed while Phil talked with the preacher.

When their visit was over, Phil said, “I’m not going to do any of this until I check it out.”

Bill Smith came back and helped Phil study the Bible the next night and the night after that. I let Phil stay in the apartment with us, and he was so humble. He loved the boys—and that made all of us happy. The change in him was like night and day. The fourth night, I believe, I got home from work one evening, expecting to find Bill Smith and Phil studying the Bible, but I didn’t see them anywhere. Our apartment was so small I didn’t have to look very far. I can’t remember now whether they did not leave a note or whether I just didn’t see it, but I had no idea where they were, so I went to the church to look for them. When I got there, Phil was getting baptized!

That was just like Phil—to make up his mind to do something and then not even tell me or wait for me to get there after I had prayed so long and hard for that moment. It was okay, though. As long as he made Jesus Christ his Lord and Savior, I was happy.

Things did not change for us overnight, but they did change over time. Phil stopped drinking very quickly, and once he started
studying the Bible, he never stopped. At times, as God was changing him, he had to suffer the consequences of some of the things he had done, but he has thoroughly and completely changed from the man he used to be. After a lot of hurt and disappointment, and a lot of prayer, God really did change him. He is now the kindest, most loving man I have ever known, and he is fearless about sharing his faith because he knows how much God changed his life. I can honestly say, after those terrible times in our early years, Phil truly became the man of my dreams.

14

HAVE HOPE

Lisa

As I mentioned earlier, I fell for Alan when I was in the sixth grade. When we finally got married, after some drama in both of our lives individually and in our relationship, I was thrilled! In our early days of marriage, I thought Alan walked on water. He was wonderful! My thinking he was too wonderful got our marriage off to a bad start, but I did not know that for several years. I did not realize I not only loved Alan, I actually worshipped him. He was more important to me than God was, and I had a greater love for him than I did for God. Having a terrific husband is a blessing, but when a wife gives her husband the worship God deserves, trouble is on its way.

Within the first five years of our marriage, we had two beautiful daughters. I wish I could say we lived happily ever after, and ultimately we did. But we went through a painful process to get there, a process that began when I was just a little girl.

I S
HOULD
H
AVE
B
EEN
S
AFE

I was the youngest of three children in my family. My brother was twelve years older than I, and my sister was seven years older. Because I was so much younger than my siblings and my mom worked outside the home, I spent most of my time at my grandmother’s house. Until I started school, I was at her house five days a week. After I started school, I stayed with her every day during the summertime.

One of my favorite things about being at my grandmother’s house was that she served eggs, bacon, biscuits, and sweet tea for breakfast. I do have some pleasant memories of being there, as a lot of people do, but I have a lot that are not so pleasant because something tragic happened to me at my grandmother’s house, something that damaged me deeply and haunted my life for years.

One of the things Miss Kay and I have in common is that both of us understand firsthand how dangerous alcohol can be to a family. Miss Kay dealt with her mother’s alcohol use and later, to a much greater degree, with Phil’s problem. A number of people in my family abused alcohol, and both of my siblings eventually died young because of it.