“In 2009, I was raising my kids. I was doing weddings. I was teaching group fitness. I was doing all this stuff, then my voice kept going out.

“I was a fitness instructor for 17 years. So I had a lot of vocal cord abuse. I would lose my voice for weeks, then it would come back. After a lot of testing, they decided it was from reflux. My esophageal sphincter was wide open. So everything was coming up, and it was burning my vocal cords.

“One of the top surgeons in Texas performed the surgery, and I had some bad side effects. I wasn’t able to swallow hardly anything. Even my saliva, I would start choking. It was absolutely horrific.

“Over time, things got a little better. My voice would come back. I started teaching again. Things seemed to be good. Then, all of a sudden, it deteriorated again. I needed a second surgery.

“I was feeling so bad. I didn’t want to eat. I still have issues. Eating is not fun for me. I can’t swallow normally. I’ve not eaten solid food since 2011. I’m on a very soft diet. When I do eat, it takes me a couple hours. Because as soon as I start ingesting something, I start having esophageal spasms. I have the same issues with drinking anything.

“So during the course of the day, I’m not eating or drinking. And people are asking, ‘How are you able to do anything?’ I say, ‘It’s God’s strength in me. He’s called me to do this.’ Because physically, it makes no sense.

“A couple years ago, I was diagnosed with Lupus. I think that everything I’ve struggled with kind of falls under that. But had it not been for all those struggles, this place would not be here. My illnesses kind of put me back into the Lord’s will for my life. I know without a doubt, this is what he created me to do.

“He’s surrounded me with an unbelievable army of family, friends, staff and volunteers to make this what it is today. Even though it’s hard — sometimes with my health, I’m really down for the count — this ministry is a dream come true.”

— Nikki Rincon

Nikki is executive director of Hearts and Hands of Baytown, a ministry of Iglesia Cristo Viene church.

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The post Chronic health struggles can’t stop her appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I made a mistake. I used the wrong address for a food fair location. I caught it, but I knew some of the flyers had already gone out.

“I was worried that some people might go to the wrong place, so I drove out there early that morning. I was so glad there wasn’t a line. It was just one car.

“When I got out to speak with the gentleman, and let him know he could follow me to the correct location, he told me his story. He had just started a new job and moved his family here. But shortly thereafter, the company made cuts. He got laid off. It was one of those last-in, first-out things.

“He was a young guy. He had a wife and two small children. And he said, ‘I’ll be real honest with you. My wife and I have not eaten in a couple days, because we’re making sure the kids are fed.’ I told him to follow me to the food fair.

“I called my dad, who’s one of our biggest supporters, and asked him to pack up some extra food and meet us there. I also told the gentleman about the Pay It Forward Diner, where he and his family could get a free meal that day.

“He looked like the man on the street who you might be scared to approach: real rough, with tattoos all over his body. But in that moment, he was standing there just crying. And he was hugging me. He said, ‘I can’t even believe this is happening.’

“It’s moments like that — I could go on and on with those types of stories — that makes all the work of our staff, volunteers and partners so meaningful.

“When people hear the name, Hearts and Hands of Baytown, they immediately think of food. But it’s so much more than that. We’re delivering hope. We’re giving dignity to people.”

— Nikki Rincon

Nikki is executive director of Hearts and Hands of Baytown, a ministry of Iglesia Cristo Viene church. Through food fairs and various other programs with community partners, they strive to eradicate hunger and its underlying causes.

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The post Food ministry ‘delivering hope’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I’ve had a good life, a very good life. Born poor. Born Black. Born in 1942. Born the 24th day of April. Born on a Wednesday. All this means a lot to me. As a matter of fact, born right here about 100 feet from where I’m sitting now. There’s a little building there called The House. That’s where I was born. And as if by magic, I’m pastoring a house that belongs to God where I’ve spent 54 years. It’s amazing to me how close I’ve stayed in the same place. And somehow God, I feel, has used me.

“I’m at the same church I went to as a Sunday school boy. Ideas have changed. People have changed. Most of the people who helped to raise me at the church are in the cemetery now. But I’m still here thinking about some of the things they said to me many years ago: ‘If you keep your hand in God’s hands, son, he’ll lead you. If it hurts you, don’t say it because it’s going to hurt somebody else. If you see somebody else hurting, try to do something to ease the pain, not to elevate it.’ That’s what my life has been all about since I was a child.”

— Sherman Gray Jr.

Sherman is the long-time pastor at Antioch Missionary Baptist Church of McNair.

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The post Church life keeps pastor close to home appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“My dad was a Southern Baptist minister and a doomsday prepper. I was raised in Palestine, up in East Texas. We lived in the parsonage next to the church where my dad preached. But he also built a little cabin in the woods, just outside the town of Rusk. It didn’t have plumbing, but it did have electricity. That was sort of a weekend getaway/ultimate destination if the grid ever went down and things got really bad.

“My dad was always a little mistrustful of the government. So I think he was just worried that something might happen and his family wouldn’t be safe. I guess in his mind it was really important to make sure that no matter what, we would be fine. In a way, that was very sweet. But in a way, it was kind of like, OK dad, please stop.

“I was homeschooled, and I had very little contact with anybody outside my parents’ social circle. So I just sort of thought it was normal. It was actually kind of terrifying as a little kid. I would have problems sometimes, thinking about the world ending. It was a big source of anxiety for me. Then, as I got a little older, and the world was supposed to have ended a whole lot of times but it hadn’t, it made me a bit cynical about conspiracy theories and that sort of thing. Like, yeah, I’ve heard it all before.

“Then when COVID hit, it felt like something I’ve almost been waiting for my whole life. Obviously, I’m not happy about it. But it was like, OK, I can do this. I feel like I’m ready for this. It would have been a big source of anxiety for me as a child. But now, as an adult, I’m not panicking. I have my bad days like everybody else, where I’m worried. But, you know, I sleep at night. It’s going to be OK.”

— Rebecca Barker

A former Baytown resident, Rebecca lives in Michigan with her husband and their daughter.

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The post Doomsday prepper dad prepares her for COVID-19 appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I’m an armchair theologian. I study ancient writings. All those things that some people have called other scriptures. As well as the Bible. I’m quite familiar with the Bible and biblical terms. I believe all churches are wrong — there is no good English translation of the Bible. They’re all terrible.

“I have a hard time getting people to talk Bible with me because I’m so far out there in many areas. I’ve talked to atheists. I’ve talked to agnostics. I like to talk about theology, what they believe and why they believe it. And I don’t get mad. You can believe whatever you want to believe. It’s all OK with me.”

— JimBob Hirst

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The post ‘Believe whatever you want to believe’ about religion appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“The first time I started coming to this church, I just let a few little things get to me, and I fell right back into the old me. I was having a hard time reading the Bible. I didn’t really even know how to pray or talk to God that well. This time, it’s come so much easier. I’m totally ready for it now.

“I don’t care what anybody thinks when I walk out in those streets. I haven’t really left too much. One time I did leave to take one of the leaders here and another lady to the bus stop. On the way there and on the way back, there were at least five people who wanted something related to Kush or blunts. After they got on that bus, I could not get back here fast enough. I ran back like a little kid.

“I’m not ready to go back out there yet for good. I ask for patience. But be careful what you ask for because I’ve had test after test after test. And I find myself getting mad over the littlest stuff. I know it’s the devil just eating at me, saying, ‘You’re not going to do it. You can’t do it this time.’ Yes, I am, man. I’m doing it. This is the longest I’ve ever been clean since I really started smoking weed around 19 or 20. Now, I’m just taking it one day at a time. All I know is that I don’t want to be the old me. I know that for a fact. I want to be better.

“I have a son who’s going to turn 19 on Dec. 30. I haven’t gotten to be around him very much because of the drugs and the alcohol and just being ignorant. I have pretty much neglected my son through all of this. But I don’t think he’s ready for me to come see him yet. I want to be totally clean. I want to be good. I want to have a job. I want to be a good dad. I want my son to see the change in me. For so many years, I was good at being bad. Now I want to be real good at being good.”

— Larry Pool Jr.

Having struggled for years with drugs and alcohol, Larry believes he’s on a better path in life thanks to House of Mercy. He’s currently staying at the local church, which is planning its second annual Christmas banquet on Dec. 7 for those without homes. It hopes to help 300 people from Baytown and surrounding communities by providing dinner, gifts, clothes, shoes, haircuts and showers. To learn how you can support this effort, contact Teresa McCartney Hoffart at 713-702-2848.

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The post Church helps on way to turning life around appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I grew up with messed-up feet. They were real club-footed, like turned in. To help fix them, I had to wear these casts that went all the way up my legs. When I was 8, they cut them down to below my knees. I also had to wear what I call Forrest Gump shoes with the bar in the middle to kind of force my feet out. When you’re the only one in school looking like that, other kids can be pretty mean. But I didn’t let it stop me. I wanted to play baseball. At first, when I would hit the ball, someone else would run for me. I got tired of that. I wanted to do it myself. And I did. But because I ran stiff-legged, I had to hit the ball all the way to the fence just to get to first base. I made the all-star team that season as the second-string pitcher. In the championship game, there were two runners on base, and I tattooed one and got a home run. That was the first time I got to touch all the bases.

“I was a pretty decent pitcher at La Porte High School. I threw a 93 miles-per-hour fastball, and I could put it anywhere: three inches off the plate, right on the plate, right at your face. I was offered a contract by the Cincinnati Reds. But my dad told me that getting an education was the most important thing. So I signed to play at Louisiana State University. After I got there, I started acting stupid and got caught twice with weed in my room. The second time, they kicked me off the team, took away my scholarship, and I had to go home. Needless to say, my dad was pretty disappointed in me. But he helped me get a tryout at San Jacinto College. I ended up making the team, along with a buddy of mine who was a catcher from Deer Park.

“When we were told that we had made the last cut, we went out to celebrate with our girlfriends. His girlfriend drove. On the way home, she dropped off my girlfriend first and then me. I was taking a shower when the phone rang. My dad said that a Hispanic lady on the line was really distraught about something, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. I jumped out of the shower and figured out it was my buddy’s mom. I didn’t know exactly what was going on, so I got in my Camaro and raced over to their house. When I pulled up, I saw firetrucks, ambulances and police cars. I ran up to the porch, and all his mother could do was point. I turned around to look, and I saw my buddy pinned between his girlfriend’s car and another car. While he had been leaning in the window to give her a kiss, a drunk driver came around the corner and T-boned him. He waited about 15 minutes for me to get there, to tell me goodbye before he passed.

“That hit me real hard. I thought, that’s it, I’m done. I got in my car, drove to Last Drop Liquor, and bought two fifths of Jim Beam. I drank one in the parking lot. I finished the second one before I got to Highway 225. I jumped on 225 and just took off, about 120 miles an hour. I wasn’t stopping. I didn’t care anymore. I was done. As I got to where you’re supposed to turn onto the 610 Loop, I just let go of the wheel. It turned, and I ended up hitting one of the concrete poles or the wall at the end. I hit so hard that the engine ended up in my lap. The last thing I remember is getting into the ambulance. I woke up on a gurney in the emergency room, and I knew I wasn’t staying. So I took everything off. Just got up and walked out.

“Besides hitting a few balls and tossing it around with some buddies in the years since then, I left baseball behind. Because of all that happened, I just figured I wasn’t supposed to do it anymore. That part of my life was over.”

— Larry Pool Jr.

Having struggled for years with drugs and alcohol, Larry believes he’s on a better path in life thanks to House of Mercy. He’s currently staying at the local church, which is planning its second annual Christmas banquet on Dec. 7 for those without homes. It hopes to help 300 people from Baytown and surrounding communities by providing dinner, gifts, clothes, shoes, haircuts and showers. To learn how you can support this event, contact Teresa McCartney Hoffart at 713-702-2848.

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• ‘I should be gone, but I’m still here’

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The post After friend’s death, ‘I just let go of the wheel’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“The youth pastor at Old River Baptist Church asked if I’d be interested in helping lead a group for troubled teens called The Landing. After I heard a little about it, I said, ‘Absolutely.’ It’s for males and females in grades 6 through 12, and we’re averaging about 15 students per session. We’re trying to help these kids understand that what they’re going through right now is just temporary. They shouldn’t look at their teen years as their whole life. That can be pretty challenging for kids who are going through things like being bullied, who feel the need to harm themselves, or are involved in addictive behaviors like vaping.

“Bullying is a huge factor in schools these days, especially at the high school level. People say that it’s been around for years, but not like this. I mean, I was bullied as a kid. I was thrown in the trash can in the boys bathroom. But that’s nothing compared to what’s going on today. Now there’s social bullying, where someone can use an app to bully another person anonymously. You can’t track it back to whoever did it. They’re hiding behind their phones. And some of these kids are very mean. The things I’m seeing and hearing about, it’s so sad.

“No matter what they’re going through, I try to be that one solid person who is there for them, who will listen to their issues, and advise them as best I can. To be honest, this whole experience has kind of helped me to be a better parent. I talk to my own kids more. I spend at least 30 minutes with them every night. I tuck them in — even my 16-year-old. I lay next to him, and I’m like, ‘How was your day? What’s going on?’ I think it’s more important than ever to just let them know that I’m there for them.”

— Cissy Clearo

(Photo by Olivia Garza/Liv’s Looking Glass)

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The post She helps teens deal with bullying and much more appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“Another time, I was working at a gas station. I was out there cleaning the pumps one night, and three women got out of a Suburban. They came walking toward me at the pumps. At first, it scared me because I didn’t know what they were going to tell me. They walked up to me, and all three of them handed me a $20 bill. I asked what’s it for, and they said, ‘We just appreciate what you do.’ Stuff like that is unexpected. If you’re expecting it, it might come or it might not. But when you don’t expect it, that’s when it hits you right in the eye.”

— Glen Henson

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“When I was a little kid, I went to church all the time. As I got older, I began asking questions like, ‘What’s the aim of human life? Why are we here?’ And they had no answers. They just told me, ‘You need to read your Bible more.’ I was into martial arts as a teenager, and one of them said that was a false religion. I was told that I needed to make my choice of whether I wanted to do that or follow Jesus. So I said, ‘Bye. See you later.’

So what have you followed in life?
“I’m a devotee of a yogi from northern India. In his country, they called him Balyogeshwar. It means the born lord of yogis. He became an American citizen about 40 years ago. I’ve met him many times. I followed him around once for about a month. He would do these festivals, and thousands of people would come to hear him. He would speak on God realization and truth. He showed me what I was looking for. He showed me knowledge of the soul. He gave me wisdom, truth. 

“They say the musk deer runs through the forest, he smells this beautiful musk, and he doesn’t realize that it comes from his own navel. Still, he runs around the woods looking for it. Similarly, all the people of the world, they’re constantly running through life looking for something — satisfaction, peace of mind, whatever you want to call it. But it’s not in all these material things we have. It’s really inside all of us. It’s really simple. Truth has been in front of our eyes all our lives.”

— John Bounds

The post ‘Truth has been in front of our eyes all our lives’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.