After Cori, my 21-year-old, unwed daughter, said those words, I went through
all kinds of emotions.
Yes, it would be embarrassing. I wrote the book Sanctified Sex. I had criss-crossed the country telling thousands of young adults like my daughter to "just say no."
Yes, it broke my heart. I stayed awake many nights listening to my wife's muffled sobs. I came home many days to referee a family feud.
But life had prepared me for this. I remember my 19-year-old brother being pistol-whipped for a measly fifty cents. I remember angry youths firing a .357 magnum in my front yard. I remember seeing a friend, inches from me, get riddled with bullets. That's life in the ghetto. I clearly understood what pastoring a church in the Smith Homes area, a Detroit housing project, would cost me.
What I may have miscalculated was the price my family would have to pay. I was willing to deal with rats and take a vow of poverty, but did God want this for my family?1