“I thought I had to rescue me. But I couldn't. Only God could.”

“I come from the Hawkins clan, a family that believes family is everything. Family doesn't leave you high and dry. We love God. We don’t play about God. Looking back, I know I was blessed. But even growing up in a good home didn't mean I didn't carry things.

I call myself the golden child. Everybody knew my mom. Everybody knew my brothers. Before teachers ever met me, they already knew my last name and the weight it carried. I felt like I had to stay on my P's and Q's because I couldn't afford to mess up. I hated the thought of letting my parents down. To this day, I hate feeling like I've disappointed somebody. 

When I was little, I had terrible separation anxiety from my mom. Every time I had to go somewhere new, I'd cry. It would take me weeks before I'd finally start talking. Once I got comfortable, then my personality came out.

My parents tell this story all the time:

One day we were riding an elevator, and there was another man standing there with us. Daddy was holding my hand, and I looked up at the man and said, ‘Hey, how are you doing?’

He never answered. So I asked him again. ‘Hey... how are you doing?’

Nothing.

Finally I looked up at him and said, ‘Did you not see me standing right here?’

The man finally answered and laughed saying to my parents ‘well he’s pretty rambunctious isn’t he?’

Apparently, I've been like this since I was little. I've always loved people. The hard part was that people didn't always take the time to know me.

When I got into middle school and high school, people started making assumptions about me. They thought they knew who I was. They thought they knew how I lived my life. People questioned everything about me, and after hearing it long enough, I started questioning myself.

It affected the way I built relationships. Sometimes I wondered if it was just easier to be alone. But there was one place where I never felt like I had to prove anything — my grandmother Blanche's house.

Anytime we went to Longview, Texas, I felt like I could get away from all the expectations that came with being the golden child. I could just be Greg. I'll never forget one Thanksgiving. We were all sitting around talking about what we were thankful for. I was sixteen years old thinking I was grown. My grandmother actually corrected me.

She looked at me and said, ‘You're not grown. You're still under your mama's thumb. Be a child. Don't be in such a rush to grow up.’

Looking back...I wish I had listened. When I tell you my grandmother prayed...My God...There is nothing like a praying grandmother. She loved people unconditionally. She made people feel safe. She was my safe space. 

Then cancer came back.

I was working two jobs and couldn't make it home for Thanksgiving. One day something just told me to call Grandma. When she answered the phone...she sounded exhausted. She sounded like she could barely breathe.

We only talked for a little while. Before we hung up, I told her, ‘Grandma, I love you.’  You know how people kiss over the phone? That's what she did before we hung up.

A few days later… I had just gotten off work. It was 9:14 that morning. My phone rang. It was my mom.

She said, ‘Gregory…’ I said, ‘Yes, Mommy.’ She said… ‘Your grandmother's gone, baby.’

When my grandmother died...I felt like I lost who I was. Grandma Blanche was more than just my grandmother. She was the place where I could breathe. She was the place where I didn't have to be the golden child. She was the place where I didn't have to carry expectations. I could just be Greg.

The funeral came. I was laughing with my family, talking, trying to lift people up. It didn't hit me at the funeral. It hit me on the drive to work.

It shattered me. I still break talking about it. Even now. Because that's still a painful place for me. I couldn't make sense of it.

One night, I couldn't sleep. It was about one o'clock in the morning. Everybody had been talking about the movie, War Room. I had never seen it. I remember praying, ‘God... if this movie is really supposed to change my life... let me find it.’

When I tell you...God met me there. War Room didn't just teach me about prayer. It taught me what a war room was. Matthew 6:6. Go into your inner room. Pray in secret. I had never looked at prayer like that before. After that night...something changed. I couldn't get enough of God.

I started writing prayer strategies. I covered my walls with Scripture. I wanted to know Him. Really know Him. The more I prayed...the more I started realizing something. Maybe God hadn't abandoned me. Maybe...He had been preparing me.

Years went by.  I kept praying.  I kept growing. I started doing one-minute motivations every morning. I wrote prayer strategies. I stayed in God's Word. I didn't realize it then, but God was teaching me long before I ever stepped behind a pulpit..

Then one day, it felt like He wouldn't let me run anymore. I was getting ready to go to my little brother's wedding, and every single day I kept seeing the same message. ‘You're called.’

Every day. ‘You're called.’

One of my fraternity brothers reached out and asked if I would come speak about evangelism. I told him, ‘I'm not an evangelist.’  He looked at me and said, ‘I didn't ask you all that. I'm just doing what God told me to do.’

I went for a walk. I'll never forget it. As I was walking, I had this vision of heaviness falling off of me... piece by piece.

When I got home, I texted my pastor. I said, ‘It's time.’ That was the beginning of me accepting my calling. Looking back now, I can see God had already started calling me long before that.

Truth be told, I still get nervous every time I preach.. You never know how God is going to move. I'm just thankful He chose me.

For so many years I thought I had to become somebody.  I thought I had to be perfect. I thought I had to carry everybody else's expectations. I thought I had to rescue me. But I couldn't. Only God could.

He had to teach me to stop denying the Gregory He created me to be. To accept every part of me—even the pain. We try to ignore it. We try to ignore trauma. But that's part of the story. That's part of what teaches us our value goes beyond our circumstances.

Today, when people hear me preach, they see the preacher. What they don't always see is the little boy who cried every time his mama dropped him off somewhere new. They don't see the young man who thought one mistake would let everybody down. They don't see the grandson who lost his safe place and didn't know how to be Greg anymore.

But God saw him. He saw all of him. One thing I promised God after my grandmother died was that I would never love less.I would always love more. True love always triumphs over evil. That's what my grandmother taught me. Her not being here doesn't mean the unconditional love stops.

Matter of fact… it's just getting started. I want to be the chance my grandmother sacrificed for. I want to show God's people that you can. As long as you don't give up on God, He won't give up on you.

I want to be a chance to help. A chance to guide. A chance to heal. A chance to live. A chance to be exactly who God made me to be. Because everything about who I am...now...then...and forevermore...it matters. Nothing is wasted.

It’s crazy because just the other day, my grandma came to my dream, and I got to hug my grandmother. And I felt it. She was there! She looked at me and she smiled at me. She didn’t say anything but she was happy. That did everything for me.

‘Everything works together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose…’ I believe that now. I didn't always. But I do now.”