Convicted

by Jameel Zookie McGee

The look on Andrew’s face as he looked at me was one of relief.

  “That’s okay, man. I’m sorry I was so rough with you all those years ago. You know, I’m a new person today. In fact, that’s why Zookie and I are out here. We’re making a video about forgiveness to show at our church, Overflow.”

  “Yeah, brother, why don’t you come over to our church and check it out,” I said.

  The guy mumbled something, then got out of there as fast as he could. We never did see him in church. I believe he’s in prison today for selling drugs.

  After the guy left, Andrew looked at me and said, “Wow. I know you’ve got me now.”

  “Ain’t nothing to it,” I said. “You know I got your back.”

  We then tried to shoot the video, but between the cars on the streets and the wind and people going in and out of the store, it just didn’t work. We ended up shooting the whole thing in someone’s basement. Instead of recreating the scene of the arrest, we just talked about it. We did have some video from inside the store when the guy came in yelling, but we couldn’t use that in church.

  Andrew

  The Sunday Pastor Brian planned to show the video turned out to be a rough morning for me. I came into church with a huge weight on my shoulders that had absolutely nothing to do with Jameel. There are some hurts that just don’t seem to go away, and I felt one on this particular Sunday. Someone who had hurt me in the past, someone close to me, had hurt me again in spite of endless promises that this time things would be different. Things weren’t different. I made myself vulnerable and got burned in the process.

  The eleven o’clock service started with the band playing the old song “It Is Well with My Soul.” I could not sing along because it was not well with my soul. Our church is a very open place. When people have things they’re dealing with, there’s a freedom for them to kneel at the front and do business with God. Usually this takes place at the end of the service, but not always. As I tried to sing along with the congregation, I felt God pushing me to go up and pray. I couldn’t change the person who’d hurt me, but I could change the way I responded, because the way I had responded so far was not good. The song kept going and God kept pushing, but I pushed back. They’re showing the video this morning. If I go up, people will think I’m just drawing attention to myself, I argued with God.

  The song ended. As soon as it did I knew I’d missed my moment.

  The service continued. The band played a few more songs before Pastor Brian delivered his message about racial reconciliation. Overflow is a great place for such a message because every imaginable demographic—age, race, income bracket—worships there. I did my best to listen, but I wasn’t thinking about racial reconciliation and forgiveness. I couldn’t because I had someone close to me whom I was struggling to forgive. I didn’t want to. This person had hurt me so much and I wanted to hurt them back.

  Then the video started. I felt like the world’s biggest hypocrite as I watched it. Up on the screen Jameel was talking about forgiving me, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to forgive this person in my life. I’d said I’d forgiven them, but I could not accept them for who they are and move past the hurt. At the same time, I noticed people looking at me in surprise.

  Nearly ten years had passed since I’d arrested Jameel and six had passed since I went to prison. In that time a lot of new people had moved into the area and become a part of the church. Those staring at me had no idea I’d been a cop who went to prison. That wasn’t exactly something I advertised. “Hi, I’m Andrew and I used to be a bad cop” was not the way I introduced myself. Now everyone knew, which I was fine with. I really was. I wanted them to know, yet that only made me feel even more like a hypocrite. Jameel forgave me. We’re close now. Why can’t I forgive?

  The video ended. The pastor said a few words about how powerful the message was. He invited anyone who needed to do business with God about forgiveness and reconciliation to take the time to do that before they left. Then the band got up to play a final song. Wouldn’t you know it? As if on cue, they played “It Is Well with My Soul” again. I’d missed my first chance. I wasn’t going to miss this one. I went up to the altar, got down on my knees, and started praying. In the back of my mind, I knew everyone probably assumed I was there because of what had happened between Jameel and me. That kept me from coming forward earlier in the service. It was not going to this time. I knelt down and prayed and asked God to give me the grace to turn loose of the hurt and pain once and for all.

  I’d been at the front for a while when I felt an arm around me. Then I heard a voice praying over me. It was Jameel.

  Jameel

  This was just a regular Sunday for me. I loved being there and I loved using my gifts and passions in the tech booth. I mixed the sound for the band and basically just enjoyed myself. When the pastor started his message, I knew this was going to be good. He was on point that day. I was excited.

  I had not yet seen the finished video. I could have but I chose not to. It took a while to edit it down. Pastor Brian wanted a five-minute video. Jim—the man who shot the video—struggled to edit the footage down to eleven or twelve minutes.

  As the video played, I listened to the crowd. I heard people ooh and aah and react emotionally to what was being said on screen. That was good. But I was afraid they’d get only the negative part of the story. I did not want them to come away thinking that all these horrible things had been done to me and that life was so unfair. Yes, I’d gone through bad stuff, but God had already made this all good. I didn’t even think about the bad anymore. Those times are so far behind me today that it’s unbelievable. Everything I went through God used to make me into the man I am today. I don’t carry any anger or regrets over it, and I didn’t want anyone to start carrying them for me.

  When the band started playing the final song, I noticed Drew go up and kneel down to pray. Oh man, I hope he’s not dealing with the oohs and aahs from the crowd when they showed the video. I made some adjustments on the mixer board and then looked back at Drew. Do I go down there? I wondered. Then I thought about the fear I had with the video, that people might come away focused on the bad and not the good. That settled it. I told the other guys in the booth, “I’ll be right back,” then started toward Drew. To get from the control booth to the front of the church meant going down a couple of long hallways and then down a flight of stairs. I didn’t know if he’d still be praying when I finally got there. If he wasn’t, I’d just wait for the service to end, then start disconnecting equipment like I did every Sunday.

  Everyone in the church who was looking up could see me as I walked from the side entrance of the auditorium over to Drew, which made me hesitate for a moment. I wished we could do this in private. I knelt down next to him, put my arm around him, and started praying. I didn’t know what he was dealing with, but I didn’t need to. Something was weighing heavy on him, so I prayed something like, “God, whether this is guilt over what happened between Drew and me or something else, let him know that you have already taken care of this. You’ve got it. Help him trust you and let it go.” I said amen and started to stand up. Drew stayed on his knees. He looked up at me as if he were going to say something, but he didn’t.

  I patted him on the shoulder and said, “I love you, man.” Then I stood up to go back to the control room. The service was ending and I had work to do. I looked back at Drew, and he just lost it, crying. That’s when I knew I really needed to get back to the control room. If I stayed there with him, I’d lose it too.

  The music stopped playing. I started unplugging cameras, then went upstairs to turn everything off in the control room. When I came back downstairs, Drew was still up front, still praying and weeping. An older couple stopped me and talked to me for a few minutes. I didn’t stick around for long. As soon as I could, I got out of the conversation, jumped on my bike, and pedaled home. It had been an awesome day, but I was ready to get home.

  Andrew

  When Jameel first came down and started
praying, part of me was like, Okay, buddy, say amen so I can get back to what I’m dealing with. When he finally did say amen, I turned to say thank you because in spite of my annoyance, his praying for me really was a nice gesture.

  And then Jameel said, “I love you, man.”

  I put my head down and could not say another word. I began bawling from the weight of the fact that I couldn’t forgive a person who had not done one-tenth of what I’d done to Jameel. And here was Jameel, offering up his love to me like a true brother. In that moment Jameel was truly a flesh-and-blood version of Jesus to me because he’d forgiven me of so much without asking for anything in return.

  “I love you, man.” I didn’t deserve that love. I didn’t deserve his forgiveness or his friendship or his love. How, then, could I hold back and not forgive the one who had hurt me? Everything just poured out of me. Other leaders in the church came and prayed over me. By the time I finally got up, the church was empty. Everyone had gone except for a few stragglers. Pastor Brian asked me if I was okay.

  I smiled. “Yeah. I am. I really am.”

  In February 2016 Jameel moved into a house of his own in Benton Harbor. A few days after moving in, he convinced the local drug dealers to leave his street once and for all. Neighbors who had lived on the block for decades finally had their neighborhood back. Later that summer he started an afternoon mentoring program for children in the area. He named it Jameel’s Ultimate Mentoring Program, or JUMP. The program includes music, which Jameel teaches using the studio he’s built in his new home. He also parked his bike and bought a car.

  Andrew left Cafe Mosaic in the summer of 2016 to join the area staff of Young Life. He now works with local schools to reach at-risk kids, giving them hope for a better future.

  Jameel left Cafe Mosaic a few weeks later, taking a job with Emergency Shelter Services (ESS), a nonprofit that provides temporary housing for families and single parents with children and assists them in finding permanent homes. He spends his days helping homeless adults and families find a home of their own. ESS helped Jameel get into his home, and now he returns the favor for others.

  Even though they no longer work together at Mosaic, Jameel and Andrew still spend a great deal of time together. They now tell their story to organizations across the country. On one of those trips, Jameel spent Father’s Day with his son for the first time.

  When they aren’t traveling together, Jameel and Andrew often just hang out or take their children out together. They don’t just have a great story. They truly are best friends.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Bruce Nygren and the hardworking team at Penguin Random House. We can’t imagine we’ll ever understand all that went into telling our story. Thank you for what you do.

  Wes Yoder. Thank you for your expertise as a literary agent. You are an incredible example of the power of love. We meet people all over the country from all walks of life who know Wes Yoder. Yet we’ve never heard one negative word. You live a life of love! We’re still waiting for our time on your front porch sipping sweet tea.

  Mark Tabb. You are a master storyteller. Thank you for your heart for Jesus and your passion for justice. Jesus handpicked you to write this book. Watching you (digitally) write this book in three weeks was amazing. Looking forward to reading the rest of your books.

  From Andrew

  Jeff and Lakita Wright. You both do so much for the kingdom. Amid marriage ministry, a thriving urban ministry, and the numerous boards you are on, you had time to take a call from me as I sat overwhelmed with what God was doing in this story. Without you I wouldn’t know Wes.

  Pastor Brian Rumor of New Life Church. My life forever changed when you showed me grace and challenged me in my faith.

  Pastor Brian Bennett of Overflow Church. Your drive is astounding; your love for people and justice is infectious. Your loyalty and friendship are cherished. Thank you for joining our family on this roller coaster.

  The Tuesday Morning Men’s Group, both present and past members. I am the man I am today because God continues to use your wisdom and guidance to mold me.

  Mom and Ike. I am strong because of you. Compassionate because of you. Driven because of you. I can’t think of two other people I’ve shed so many tears with. Thank you for your unconditional love.

  Mark and Chuck. I am a better father because of the two of you.

  Grandma and Grandpa. I know Jesus because of you. You’ve modeled his love and grace my entire life. I’ll enjoy joining you, sipping coffee, and eating Little Debbie’s for eternity. You introduced me to my Savior and helped me grow deeper in my faith.

  Kyle and Ditte. I stay driven because you stay driven. I can’t wait to read your book of true love. You inspire more people than you know.

  Kiya. Sweet Kiya. It might be weird for a father to say he looks up to his daughter, but I do. What a joy to watch you grow and mature. I think each phase is my favorite, but a new attribute in your personality comes as you grow older, leaving me thinking that now is my favorite season. Thank you for joining me in my adventures. Please allow me to have picnics with you until I’m an old man! They mean the world to me.

  Krissy. When we said “I do,” we didn’t realize what we were signing up for. Two chronic illnesses, a federal prison sentence, and a loss of a career among the “normal” marriage hurdles. I’ve heard that 85 percent of marriages dissolve due to long-term incarceration. Celebrating the 15 percent with you. Our relationship makes me stronger, it makes me appreciate the small things in life, it keeps me sharp, and it makes me continually chase after our love story. The first twelve years may not be the way we would have written it; I’m intrigued to see what God will do with the next twelve and beyond.

  Jameel. You’ve shown me grace and mercy that is second only to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Thank you for the humility it takes to tell this hard story, repeatedly. We’ve seen so many people’s lives radically restored, because you chose to let it go and listen to God. Thank you for your Chrislike example of forgiveness.

  From Jameel

  I would like to thank God for allowing such an opportunity and for keeping me to do great things.

  My parents, Birda and Richard McGee, for putting up with a lot of my bad decision-making—my mother especially for introducing us to Christ—and for being good parents. I am who I am because of you.

  My grandmother, Rebecca McGee, for being my rock when everything else crumbled. The things you taught us we still use today.

  My brothers and sisters, I love you dearly. Too many to name. Words can’t describe how much you guys mean to me—a bond never broken.

  My son, Jacarius McKinney-McGee, you are my light when I’m dark! You gave me reason to change my life. I want the best for you, so I need to better myself. I thank God for you, and I love you.

  Latakeila McKinney, I thank you for being a mother to our son and teaching him to be a young man while I was away.

  To all my aunts and uncles, friends and family, I love you all and appreciate you, and I encourage you to do something different with your life as you know it. Let God use it.

  Drew, Wes, Mark, and team—love you guys! Glad to have met you all. God makes no mistakes in his plan, or who he puts in our lives.

  Jobs for Life and staff, I’m so grateful to have been a part of that class, which helped me in many ways.

  Overflow Church, I thank you guys for opening your doors not only to me but also to our community, for a better community moving toward greatness.