Is Jesus a White Man’s God?

I am an American Indian woman from the Northern Paiute Tribe located near Benton, California. Knowing who I am, many people are surprised to learn that I do not have a life history filled with drugs, alcohol or prison, as many Native people in North America do. As a young girl, I decided that I would not allow these things to control my life.

In the summer of 1960, I was six-years-old and living in Fresno, California. At this time, my folks were having marital problems. Mama wanted Dad to stop drinking and dating other women. Their arguing grew each day.

One morning, Mama woke my brother and I up with a big smile. ‘Get up, get dressed,’ she said. ‘We’re going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house.’ Soon we were seated on a Greyhound bus, rolling down the highway. I said to Mama, ‘Will I ever see Dad again?’ Mama assured me I would, one day.

We arrived at the Bishop bus station, where Grandma was waiting. As we traveled the hot, dusty 55 miles to her ranch, Grandma kept saying, ‘Watch for your Grandpa. He’ll be gathering the cattle.’ When I finally spotted him, he was riding a big gray horse named Chico-the best cow horse on the vast Pedro Ranch. With my grandpa, I always felt secure and loved. Grandpa would often sit and have tea parties with me. I could run barefoot and eat all the watermelon I wanted. I even got to attend summer cow camp in the mountains and sleep under the stars. These are my good memories. Yet as time passed, I began to worry about my mom.

She eventually divorced Dad. Over the next 11 years, we encountered some very hard times due to Mama’s alcoholism and bad choices in relationships with men. I kept telling myself to hang on, hoping things would get better. Grandpa would listen to my worries and tell me to ride my horse over the hills and talk to God. Many times I cried out to God.

By the time I reached 17, Mama had sobered up. She gave me my Dad’s address and permission to contact him. However, there was much healing still to come.

I decided to never do the things my parents had done. My husband, Howdy, on the other hand, was a wild-mannered rodeo cowboy who willingly embraced the night life.

Among the Indian people, we would hear statements like, ‘Jesus is a white man’s religion.’ I believed this myself. Can you imagine my confusion when Howdy, after nearly dying, embraced this white man’s God? I could not figure out what Howdy was scheming this time.

One night, Howdy was reading his Bible and told me that God had spoken to him about his future. As he eagerly read the verses to me, I realized that he really believed the Bible. Pointing my finger in his face, I told him to wake up and quit being stupid. Howdy then explained to me that he had finally found something in life that was real, and would follow Jesus with or without me.

After Howdy surrendered his life to Jesus, he quit drinking and staying out all night. I was really glad to see this, but was still quite unsure about how long this would last. After work one day, Howdy arrived to drive me home. As he walked toward me, I saw a light all around him. I knew then that the change in him was genuine and that it would last.

Soon after that, I found myself wanting what Howdy had. I decided to surrender my life to Jesus Christ. My life changed completely. I experienced peace. I was also able to forgive my parents.

Copyright 2001 Power to Change.Used with permission.

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