There are times in which we are at our lowest. I believe it's those moments that can make us or break us. We can stay down, or we can decide to get up. We can lose hope and wallow in the valley of failure, or we can create a plan to get back on the climb to the top. I believe that it's in the valley where you gain the wisdom and clarity for the climb, then you grow as you climb.

What was your lowest moment in life? Did it break you, or did it make you? Did you fold, or did you get stronger? How long were you down? Are you still down? Did you get back up yet, or is it time to get up? Identify that time and make sure you didn't miss any lessons in the valley. It's at your lowest that you can evaluate your life and be honest with yourself about the things that have happened and devise a plan for the way forward. Anything can get us to our lowest point. It could be losing a family member. It could be losing a job. It could be being kicked off of a team or out of school. It could be an injury. It could be a divorce or a bad breakup. It could be a freak accident. It could be just a transition into a new period of life. There are many things that can knock us down, but can you get up? Absolutely, you can get up. As long as there is breath in your body, there's a fighting chance. You have to be willing to stay down long enough to get a lesson and then bold enough to get back up and get back in the fight stronger and wiser than before.

If you're in the valley right now, you have to appreciate it and see it as the training ground. You can't resent it. Life is a weird teacher, and the lessons it gives us are not labeled as such. We have to discern between the lessons and the tests. We have to allow our character to be built. You can't quit and give up. When you're knocked down, you can't wallow on the ground. You can't throw in the towel. If you're breathing, then it wasn't intended to kill you, so don't kill yourself. It was intended to teach you. So get the lessons and get back up. A lot of times we take the “woe is me” approach, and we miss the point of the valley. We think that the world or God is against us. We think God has turned His back on us and no longer loves us. That's not true. My mother would always say to me, “The greater the test, the greater the testimony.” We have to know that hitting rock bottom is to build character, not to destroy it. We make a choice to make mistakes, but those mistakes can make us better if we allow them to.

I've seen people turn their backs on God because they lost something or someone in their life. They didn't realize that life was testing them to see if they could handle the blessings that were on the way. When they checked out of the fight, cursed God, and turned their backs, they showed that they couldn't handle the next level. If you can't handle the valley, you won't be fit for the top. The valley may be hard, but the top will be much harder. The top may come with some money, some peace, and some happiness, but it will also come with its share of tests. The air is thinner at the top. Rocks are thrown at you while you're at the top. People will try to convince you to jump from the top. Others will try to push you off the top. Don't ever stop learning. Don't ever wish you were in a different phase of life. Don't wish, just work. Your work, your growth, your plan, your efforts are what will transition you from season to season of your life. You can't wish your way out of hard times. You have to work your way out of hard times. There is growth in the climb, so don't stay down for long. I have a spoken word album on iTunes called GREATNESS that talks about this. You have to get up and get going. Everything that we go through in life is to grow us: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Everything is a test. You have to know that your answer to the test is your key to unlocking the next door of your life. You'll be tested emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally, financially, and relationally. Nothing is off limits in life. You will have to sharpen every knife in the drawer, from the smallest to the largest. Life is about growth. Those who constantly grow live the fullest life. If you stop growing, then you start dying. You can't avoid growth. You will get stronger through it, or the weight of it will kill you. We all have to go one day, but be a fighter until that day. Don't lie down and quit, and don't take yourself out of the game. Don't disqualify yourself by making stupid choices on purpose. Don't be afraid of greatness. Don't be afraid to be amazing. I know because I've been there.

I had a valley experience, and it could have killed me or sent me to prison for a long time. I was lost, and I was confused. I was hurt, so I felt like giving up. I got knocked down, and I was afraid to get back up because I thought life would move in for the kill and hit me harder the next time. I stayed down as long as I could; I kept making bad decisions trying to run from my calling. I was trying to run from greatness. I was afraid of responsibility. I was afraid of change. I was afraid to grow. I tried a little bit, but trying was too hard. Trying stripped my ego and forced me to be humble. I didn't want to be humble. I wanted to be the man. I tried my hand at so much, but nothing seemed to work out right.

When I got back home for the summer break, I decided to apply to the University of South Florida in Tampa. There was the University of Central Florida, but I didn't like the idea of living in Orlando, which was basically Disney World and tourist capital. So I chose Tampa. I was accepted into the school, and I applied for financial aid. My classes were paid for, and I was given a couple of loans. I signed up for 15 credits that fall semester. I was trying. I was trying to get back up, but it was hard.

I started school and got my refund check. I think I went to the mall and shopped some and maybe paid my rent and my car note. I was a grown man now. I was 21 years old, and I had a car and an apartment. I had my mom's car for a while, but she needed it back. My parents tried to help me the best they could, but they couldn't carry me and I didn't want to be a burden. I tried to grow up and be a man. I got a couple bills, and I was moving forward. In that first semester I folded. I dropped all my classes after I'd spent all my money from the refund check. I wasn't focused on school. It was boring me, and my mind just wasn't in it. I had gotten a job as a grocery stock boy at Publix. I was making $7.50 an hour and working about 32 hours a week. It was hard for me to work that much and study, especially without any study skills. I started to feel the pinch of the school system I'd grown up in. I was a junior in college, and things were getting real in the classroom. Just listening in class and then passing the test wasn't cutting it anymore. You actually have to study, and I didn't really know how to study. I missed that lesson growing up. I dropped my classes, and I just worked.

I was getting ready to switch jobs because stocking groceries was embarrassing for me. Even though no one knew me, I felt like they did. Girls would come in the store who I'd want to talk to, but I felt like a lame stocking groceries. I didn't realize while working that job I was next to some of the strongest and smartest young guys around. They were doing it the right way, the hard way, and they had a plan. I didn't see that at the time. I just wanted out of there. I was able to talk to one of the young ladies who came in there, and she liked me. I don't know why I couldn't see that she appreciated that I had a job, a car, and a cell phone and was going to school. She probably admired that but I couldn't see that.

I quit the grocery store after a few months, and I applied at the Publix warehouse. I thought I'd give that a try because it was still an honest living, but it was behind closed doors so no one would see me but the guys I was working with. I wanted to make money without anyone seeing me sweat. I'm still kind of that way today. I don't like for anyone to see me sweat, stress, or worry. I've always wanted to make everything look easy. Life just doesn't work like that all the time. Sometimes we've got to grit our teeth and grunt while we lift. I was looking for an easy way.

At the warehouse I found out fast that there wasn't the easy way out. I was in there with guys who were star football players in high school just like I was. Some guys had done time in prison. Some guys had brief stints in the NFL. We were stocking groceries on pallets that were on forklifts that we drove up and down the aisles. A lot of the guys in there didn't seem educated, but the system they were working with was mind-boggling to me. First, you had to learn the Greek alphabet, I think it was. It was hard because I knew my ABCs but now learning Alpha, Beta, etc., was kicking my butt. We had a headset on and the lady would say a Greek letter and a number. Then you'd have to drive your little pallet lift to that aisle and get however many units she told you to. While I was trying to learn, I thought I'd never get it. I was looking at these guys around me who I thought I was smarter than and wondering how in the world did they learn how to do this? Once you learn the alphabet system and how to drive the forklift thingy, then you have to learn how to stack all the stuff you're picking up. You're stacking it on a pallet and then driving. So if you stack it the wrong way, it falls off when you start driving. I was in awe at the speed with which these guys operated. It blew my mind. You have an order to pull and the lady in your ear may say it's a 60-minute order. That means that if you're working at 100 percent, you should be done in 60 minutes. Some of these guys were pulling these orders at 120 percent, while I was pulling them at 60 percent. I got lucky a few times and pulled 100 percent or better, but that was very rare for me. The worst were the times when I would pull my order and have it stacked up and wrapped with the Saran Wrap, and then I'd turn a corner on my forklift and my order would come crashing down. I remember one time very distinctly. I was the new guy, and I was pulling orders; and I got this big order and was just about done. It was like a 64-minute order, and I was almost done. It probably had taken me about two hours. I was coasting just like I used to do in college. I was tired. It was backbreaking work because you're bending and lifting heavy boxes hundreds of times over. It was insane. They really need robots for that stuff. Everyone in there should be paid six figures, but that's not realistic. I was feeling the pain as I turned one of my last corners, and it was like a Jenga game when the blocks come tumbling down. Everything fell off and I had jelly on my order, so the jelly hit the ground and busted open; it was bad. I remember this one guy who was an all-star in the warehouse. He stopped and helped me clean up my mess. That touched my heart because here this guy was making a living for his family, and I was in his way slowing him down because I was in there coasting and being lazy. A few guys hopped on their lift and helped me throw the stuff back on the pallet. It was crazy to see the brotherhood. We were all black, and maybe a few were white. It looked the way a professional football or basketball team looks. This work was professional athlete work in my mind. It was hard.

At three months you have to be pulling at 85 percent. So that means if you have an hour order, you have to pull it in an hour and fifteen minutes. I think my math is right. Well, I was pulling at about 75 percent. I told the boss man that I didn't think I was going to keep doing the work. I couldn't remember what exactly I told him, but I knew I couldn't consistently pull at 85 percent, and I didn't see how anyone could. I honestly tried one day to average 85 percent, and I was drenched in sweat, my back was killing me, and it felt harder than any football practice I'd ever attended. Then I said to myself, these guys do this every day? I was blown away. There was one guy in there who averaged 120 percent. The faster you pull, the more you get paid. We started at $10/hour. This guy was taking home $21/hour. He was a beast. What upset me about him is that he was short with a potbelly. Here I was taller with an 8-pack, looking like a Greek sculpture, but only pulling at 75 percent. I learned a few things about the makeup of a man in that warehouse, and I had to come to realize that I wasn't a man yet. I wasn't ready for man's work like my father did all his life to raise me. I wasn't ready for man's work like what you have to do when you accept the birth path given to you. I wasn't ready for the man's work that you have to do when your consequences come home to nest.

I quit that job, and I tried something “fun.” There were guys into club promoting, and they were my age. That club scene seemed fun. One of my friends told me I had a way with the ladies and that I needed to use that gift. Who would have thought that someone would see that as a gift? Well, he did. I took his advice, and I used my finesse to talk some ladies into being a part of a modeling/dance troupe called “Dazzlyn Dymes.” My friend who gave me the idea was good at graphic design, so he designed our logo and our website. I got some shirts made for the eight ladies, and I got a couple Dickie's shirts made with the name on the back. Their outfits were black tank tops with “Dazzlyn Dymes” on the front in gold glitter and a number on the back of the shirt, with boy shorts, skirts, or leggings as their bottoms. These young ladies were in school to be doctors, nurses, lawyers, and so on. I guess they just wanted to feel pretty and do something out of the box. We did photo shoots. We hosted club nights. We were VIP eye candy at clubs. We were in music videos. We did all kinds of stuff. We weren't into prostitution, although some people thought it was. Our ladies were young ladies who were pretty, and they were eye candy. Our business only lasted a couple months, I think. I might have made $130 total from the business. It was a waste of my time and theirs. One thing that stuck out to me during that time was that one of my friends invested $900 into the business. He wanted to support me. I never forgot that, and I didn't realize how instrumental he would be in my life later on down the line.

My mother gave me a hard time about the “Dazzlyn Dymes.” She wasn't happy about it. She didn't put the bar too high for me, but that was sure beneath the bar for her. She told me I needed a respectable job and that she was embarrassed to say what I did when her friends asked how her son was doing. My mother was always kind and sweet to me, but she always spoke her mind too. She could bite her tongue for all of one day, and then the next day you were going to hear exactly what she was thinking. I went back and forth with her, but it bothered me that she wasn't proud of me. I wanted her to be proud of me.

Another deciding factor in me letting the modeling troupe go was the fact that I'd gotten back with the girl of my dreams. I had met this young lady who swept me off my feet in October 2005, but I ran her off a couple months later. Then we bumped back into one another about six months later when I was working with the modeling troupe and was almost back into the street life.

One day my little sister came to me with some drugs that she found from her boyfriend at the time. Something happened; they had a fight and she left him, and he had left a bag of weed in her car. He was a drug dealer, and he was making decent money. He had mid-level weed that could sell for a little more than the regular kind. I can't remember how much it was worth, but it was probably around $300 to $600. It's crazy how life works, isn't it? You can be doing the right things, and then the wrong things will fall in your lap and give you a choice to make. The first time I got into drug dealing, it was free to me. Now the second time I got into it, it was free again. Things like that make me believe that there is a God and a devil. God sends the blessings and the way to escape; the devil sends the traps. I was so down and out, so I fell for the trap. My sister didn't know what she was giving me, and she probably thought I'd just give it away or just sell the bag to one of my cousins and be done with it. But silly ole me, I used it as a startup kit. There were some scissors, a scale, and some little baggies in the bag. So I went back to my apartment and bagged them up. Then I took this little backpack and got out in the streets of the apartment complex and flagged down cars of college students. Out of everyone I asked if they smoked, I think 100 percent said yes. Everyone became repeat customers too. It was easy. It went from little $5 and $10 bags to selling QPs, which is a quarter of a pound. Then it went to me buying a pound and breaking the weed up and selling it. By the time that pound was done my run was about up. Weed seemed like it was legal, so it didn't feel very dangerous. I was having fun because I was a full-time drug dealer, and I was living the thug life. I saw this all around me growing up and now I was in it. I didn't know how to act. I was playing a role, and it was like I was an undercover agent out there. I felt undercover because I knew I was faking. I wasn't forced into that lifestyle because I had lost my parents and had to find a way to make money as a kid. I chose that lifestyle as an adult. I didn't know what was worse: smoking it or selling it. My friends smoked it, and I sold it. I didn't know which of us was more stupid. I was living backward. I was all the way into option three on my birth path. I tried the athlete route. I tried the school route. Now I was trying the drug-dealing route for a living. It was harder than I thought. It wasn't all glitz and glam like I saw. Even in drug dealing there was sacrifice that had to be made. There was budgeting that had to be in place. You still had to prioritize and live an adult life. You just were making an illegal living. There were a lot of lessons there that I wasn't getting. I didn't realize that if I could work around the clock except for a few hours of sleep to make an illegal living, then I could do the same thing legally. I didn't realize that if I was crazy enough to be an illegal entrepreneur, then I could be an amazing legal entrepreneur. I was a product of my environment. I was living what I'd seen over and over. There were so many talented individuals from where I was from who could have done so much in the world, but they came back to be a drug addict or a drug dealer. You were one or the other. There weren't many of us who were neither. There were a few guys I knew who chose to be overworked and underpaid like my parents, and although back then I thought they looked like lames, I realize now that they were the smart ones of the bunch.

I was playing into every stereotype known to young black men. I had the long goatee that was in style back then. I had six gold teeth in my mouth. I had the fake necklaces, hoping someone would believe they were real. I had two cell phones, and I don't think one of them worked, but I wore them like they did. I had my Impala that I eventually put the biggest rims that could fit on, 22 inches. I was living the thug life and embracing it. I was a failure. I was in the valley and wallowing in my despair. I would be selling drugs around the clock. I slept from about 3 a.m. to 6 a.m. If I got a call for a $10 bag at 2 a.m., I was going to make that measly $10. I remember one night I went to sell a $10 bag to a group of guys who had chosen a different criminal route. They were jack boys or robbers. They would kick in doors of the apartments and go in and steal laptops and TVs and then keep some and sell some. I assumed they would rob people in person too. I sure thought they were going to rob me that night because about 10 of them were standing in a circle at 2 a.m. for a $10 bag of weed. I was blown away. I wasn't really scared because I was kind of numb to the danger at the time. I was young and dumb. I used to do something stupid and keep all of my money in the bag with the weed I was selling. So to flaunt I would show the money when I grabbed the weed. Dumb, I know. Well, I think one of the guys saw the money and told his friends about it. His friends would drive up from down South and rob for the weekend and then go back home. The guy who called me for the weed wasn't with the group. I think he was trying to set me up to be robbed. I'm guessing he was moving out and wanted to hit one last job before he left. Well, when I went to grab the weed out of my bag, I also pulled out my gun. Then one of the guys said, “Oh, you pulling guns? Are you gonna use that? You know you're not supposed to pull a gun if you're not gonna use it.” Then I said, “Who said I wasn't going to use it?” He then said, “Oh, you're gonna shoot somebody? I thought we were cool with you.” I said, “Oh we're cool, but I just gotta be ready. You never know these days—y'all boys brought 10 guys to buy $10 worth of weed; that seems a lil' strange.” Then they got the weed, and we went our separate ways. Had they not seen the gun, things could have gone wrong that night. I'm not sure if they were going to rob me or not, but I made it out the best way I knew how.

You see, I was lost without a road map. I was losing myself. I was in a dirty game. I was bottom feeding. I didn't know if it was my rightful place in America or how I'd even gotten to that point in my life. I wasn't a killer or a kingpin. I was a lost and confused kid. I was doing what a lot of entrepreneurs have done in their past but are afraid to admit because they don't want to be judged. But I don't care about being judged because I'm not here for the people who judge me. I'm here for the people who are down and don't see a way out. I was there. Now I'm here. If I can get a lesson and get up, then so can you!

After that incident that night I was on my way out of the street life. I started looking for jobs. The woman of my dreams had come back into my life, and I wanted to straighten up. I knew she didn't want a drug dealer to be her husband and father of her kids. She was being patient because she knew she left me and my life went down after she left. She knew that I was searching for myself and pretending to be something I wasn't. She knew it, and she was patient. I think God gave her clearance to come down to the valley and help me up. I think God knew that neither my parents nor my friends could help. He had to send my woman. She spoke life into me, and she told me I was better than the man I'd become. She told me I was gifted and that I had a bigger purpose in life. She told me I was smart and that I could become anything I wanted to become. Deep down I knew she was right. I knew I could be more. I had shown myself some things while I was in the streets. I got a product for free. I got knowledge for free. Then I made money from it. I packaged it. I marketed it. Then I sold it. I intensified the demand, and then I supplied it. I had shown myself that I knew how to be an entrepreneur and a businessman. I just needed to go about it the right way. I needed a purpose. I needed a meaning for life. I needed my Wife.

I applied for a job and I got hired. I was a counselor in a group home. I was working with men who had mental issues. They suffered from a range of issues. Most of them couldn't read and write well, but some could. They didn't understand much about adult life, but they pretended to know it all. They were like me in some ways. There were ups and downs with those guys, and I had to manage their mood swings. It was very interesting work, to say the least. I liked it, but it didn't pay well. I was making $8.50/hour. I would work 40 to 55 hours a week. I had gotten back in school, but I was in school to collect the refund checks basically. I was barely getting by in school. My wife was with me, but not my wife yet. She was helping me with school and would take my online tests. She was so smart that she didn't need to study for my tests; she could take them and get a B or C rather easily. She was in school as a biomedical science major, and her dream was to be a doctor. I helped mess that up because she became so distracted by me, and I became more of her focus than her schoolwork.

I was in the valley, and God sent an angel to whisper life into me. I started to get some strength to climb again. I started looking at my life and getting lessons from it. I knew I had to clean up my act. The mistakes I made took a total of about six to eight months, I'd say. During that time, I was evicted from my apartment because I didn't pay my rent for three months. I almost lost my car because I didn't pay my car note for three months. I was spending my money on clothes, shoes, “Dazzlyn Dymes,” and buying more drugs to sell. I had my priorities out of order, and it almost ruined me. I got a refund check from school and moved into a different apartment before the eviction hit my credit report. My mom bailed me out and paid up my car note, which was $900 past due. I was faking it and trying to make it. I learned some valuable lessons, but now it was time to get up, brush myself off, and get serious about life.

I want you to spend some time thinking about your valley experience. What did it show you? What lessons did you overlook? Did it make you stronger? Did it make you wiser? Are you ashamed of your low points in your life? Don't be ashamed of anything that you've done or that has happened to you. Don't think you have to tell every detail like I've done, but turn your mess into your message. Use that pain to propel you into a season of greatness. Let those lessons make you wiser. Don't stop learning from them. If you've made it out, don't go back on purpose. If you happen to be knocked down again, don't stay down. Get up and keep fighting. We all have valley experiences, but it's how you use them that will determine your success.