Story told by Jeff Yellow Owl, written by Patty Duncan

In 1923 the government took my grandmother from her parents and put her in a boarding school to immerse her in the white man’s culture. She remembers bumping along in a wagon, watching her home and family disappear in the rolling hills of the Blackfeet Indian Reservation in Montana.  She was five years old.

Forbidden to speak her native language, she never saw her parents again. When she was released as a teenager, hungry for love, she married young. Her husband, my grandfather, became an alcoholic.

Instead of growing bitter, my grandma drew close to God and became a Pentecostal preacher. She’d hold house meetings in her living room, teaching from her Bible, which was all marked up with notes.  When I was young, she’d call us grandkids in from outside, line us up and pray for us. For me it wasn’t just book knowledge; I got to see it firsthand. She would tell us, “It’s not what man has done to you but what God will do for you that matters.”

Alcohol ruined everything

We needed Grandma’s faith, because alcoholism swept through our family like the Grim Reaper. I had an auntie and two uncles die of cirrhosis of the liver. Relatives died in car accidents or passed out drunk in the winter in below-freezing weather. Pain and trauma were the norm for me. I hated alcohol and swore I would never drink.

In high school I played basketball, which was a big deal on my reservation, and I was pretty good at it, but I also started drinking.  After graduating in 1984, I went on to play college ball, but I got kicked out of Montana State University for drinking after only a couple of months. Later I went to community college, but I just went to play basketball, and when the season was over, I left.

I was an angry young man, blaming the white man, blaming my parents for divorcing, blaming the tribal government for not making the right decisions for us. I remember the day my father came to my apartment. We stood on the porch in the summer sunshine.

“Jeff,” my father said, “would you slow down? I’m not telling you to stop drinking, but would you just slow down? You’re going to kill yourself.”

For the first time in my life I questioned, “Why would I sober up?”  I only saw blackness and felt completely hopeless. I had no vision for my future and began to weep.  I walked into the apartment, and he left. Fifteen minutes later, he came back.

“We’ll get you out of here,” he said. “I’ll take you up west, but you’ve got to work.”

Grasping at this ray of hope, I agreed.

“I’ll work, Dad,” I said, “I’ll work.”

Trying to start over

We sold a rifle and used the $150 for gas money to get me off the reservation. We drove west into Washington to the Yakima Valley. I lived off food banks and St. Vincent de Paul’s provision of motel rooms, and that’s where a new life began for me.  I got work at a lumber mill but I slipped into alcohol and drugs again.  Desperate, I would call my grandma from a pay phone on Main Street.

“Grandma, I’m messed up,” I’d say. “What should I do?”

“My boy,” she’d say, “you need Jesus. As I’ve been saying, you need Jesus.”

I’d hang up the phone.  I remember beginning to look for a church, someone who would talk about Jesus. Then the mill was closed in 1988, and I moved to Seattle and got work in asbestos and lead abatement. I continued drinking and using drugs.

A year or so later, a guy I had done cocaine with asked me to go to church with him because his life had changed. He’d come to my apartment every Sunday and knock on my door, but I’d lock the door and would not answer it. He did that with me for three months, until finally I relented.

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll go once, and then leave me alone.”

So I went and heard Jesus preached and committed my life to Him at the end of the service. From that moment on I have not had a craving for cocaine. I’m a chemical dependency counselor now and realize the extent of the miracle God did for me that day. I went home and said “I’ll drink to that,” and drank my last beer on November 3, 1990, when I was 23 years old.

I was still so angry

I was so excited about Jesus that I’d call my dad and preach to him so much I couldn’t pay the bill and would get my phone disconnected.  As I went to church, I had things to work through. We were told not to go to the Native American Pow Wows because the gatherings were of the devil. But I’m a Blackfeet man and I couldn’t turn my back on my people and my culture, so I’d go to the Pow Wows and repent later.

I went to my a forth of July service at a church of about 6,000 people and the pastor extolled the founding fathers and the Christian heritage of America. I was shocked and thought the white men lied, murdered, deceived and broke all their promises to us, and that’s Christianity? I was mad!

Back at my apartment I fumed over it with murder in my heart, wanting to get that pastor, knowing I was a Christian now and couldn’t do it. Then the Lord spoke to me, “I took it on myself on my back when they beat me. I took it on my body on the cross. Justice has been served at the cross.” I didn’t grasp it fully at first, but over time I realized the impact of this truth.  As I continued going to church and learning, I gradually stopped seeing myself as a victim.

Reaching out

A year after I met Jesus, I began training to become a pastor and Christian counselor and after seven years of school worked in a new church in Washington. Eventually I felt an urgent desire to minister to my own people and came here to the Yakama Reservation to plant a new church. Working for the tribe as a family counselor, I met men on the tribal counsel and ordinary folks.

In my office I listen to people’s problems. The suicide rate among Native Americans is four times higher than the national average and the high school drop-out rate is 48%. Domestic violence is rampant, and gangs pose a serious problem in our area. Because of my training and the Spirit of God within me, I can help. The Bible says “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” (Proverbs 29:18, KJV) Because I’ve experienced hopelessness, I can minister in culturally appropriate ways, taking the time to listen and not assuming I know what people need. When they grasp a vision for the future, their lives change.

When I travel to speak at churches or conferences for counselors and social workers I work to build bridges between Natives and whites. Sometimes white people say they’re not responsible for what their ancestors did, so why should they feel guilty for the condition of Native Americans? While we’ve moved with compassion, not guilt, Native peoples still suffer the consequences. Most Navajos live without running water. Yakamas living out in the country may lack transportation or a refrigerator. I’m currently finishing my Masters degree in Social Work primarily to learn how to access resources to help.

My people, Blackfeet or Yakama or Navajo, need Jesus. They need a revelation of Christ presented in culturally relevant, practical ways that impact their lives. My grandmother had it right when she told me, “My boy, you need Jesus.”  If you need Jesus too you can pray this prayer and he will come into your life just as he came into mine.

Praying is simply talking to God. God knows your heart and is not so concerned with your words as He is with the attitude of your heart. Here’s a suggested prayer:

Lord Jesus, I want to know you personally. Thank you for dying on the cross for my sins. I open the door of my life to you and ask you to come in as my Savior and Lord. Take control of my life. Thank you for forgiving my sins and giving me eternal life. Make me the kind of person you want me to be.

Does this prayer express the desire of your heart? You can pray it right now, and Jesus Christ will come into your life, just as He promised. Is this the life for you?

If you invited Christ into your life, thank God often that He is in your life, that He will never leave you and that you have eternal life. As you learn more about your relationship with God, and how much He loves you, you’ll experience life to the fullest. Please let us know about your decision by clicking below, and let us know how we can help you continue your journey!