VL - Issue 42 - January 2022

THE STORY OF RODNEY MASSEY
There’s
Hope
in the
Hands of
a Merciful
God
Those who knew me from my past would
never imagine the man I am today. I was an
angry and bitter kid who became a manipulative,
deceitful man.
I cared about one thing in life—me. Years
of poverty and abuse from my then alcoholic
father had hardened my heart. I’ll spare
the details, as I imagine many reading
this magazine, maybe even you, have
experienced a similar childhood. Many
of you know the pain of not having a
father who loves you the way God intends.
It leaves a legacy of brokenness and despair
if not dealt with properly.
Thank goodness for Momma. She loved
my siblings and me and did her best to protect
and provide for us. She often shared
with us the importance of accepting Jesus
as our Savior. I didn’t want to hear about
God back then, but her seeds of faith later
sprouted in my heart and saved my life.
That happened when I was in the county jail, strapped to a
hospital bed. A drug deal had gone bad, and a seventeen-year-old
boy was dead. The authorities had apprehended me, but not before
I’d sustained four gunshot wounds myself. It’s only by God’s
mercy that I am alive.
Lying on that bed, bleeding, I began to think about my life. It
didn’t take a genius to realize that my future was bleak, and I
didn’t have anyone to blame but myself. My own pride and anger
had put me here.
I was losing hope as fast as I was losing blood, until God’s mercy
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