My name is Jeffrey Ballance and I grew up in Eastern North Carolina. I would consider myself as someone who does his best to live a life with vigor and excitement. Over the past 29 years, I have been blessed with some incredible experiences. While not all experiences felt were good or played out the way I would have liked or imagined, it is because of the various trials faced that I am able to speak to you now. In the text to come, I will do my best to provide some insight into my life and how it all shaped me into the man I am today.
As a young boy, I grew up in a single-parent home. With that being said, I have to give my mom a shout out! Without her love, support, and strength, there is no telling how far off the beaten path I’d be. Looking back, it is truly amazing how she was able to teach, tutor and go to school full-time and NEVER miss a tee-ball game. I have nothing but fond memories of my childhood. My neighborhood was filled with kids that loved to play! It didn’t matter if it was in a creek or on the baseball field; we all knew how to have fun! This aspect of my life has never evaded me. All my friends and family would attest that I love to have fun and LAUGH. I’m not talking about a light chuckle. I’m talking about a loud, is-this-guy-for-real, kind of laughter. Unless you like to hear movies when they are being played, I wouldn’t suggest going to see any comedies on the big screen with me anytime soon. I absolutely love reflecting on and giving praise to the many wonderful memories that have been made in my life, but it has not always been so amusing.
My mother and stepfather had the difficult task of raising a young man who was recklessly searching for an identity. It is here that the wound left by my father is visible. It was hard to acknowledge at first, but it has been there for a long time. This has a lot to do with my wild and outlandish behavior growing up. Essentially, when my father skipped out on the responsibilities that come with being a man, he told me “you are worthless.” It did not resonate with me then (age 8), but the older I grew, the more I believed these false tales. Some of the emotional needs that people desire are attention, acceptance and affirmation. One of the more humorous instances of me trying to gain a little attention involved my CUSTOM 1984 Buick Century, AKA, “The Blue Whale.” This baby blue death trap drove like a boat and was about as wide as a whale. Now you may not believe it, but that car went through more mud slingin’ pits than a monster truck on steroids. Now, if you aren’t from the country then you probably have no idea how much fun can be had by driving a truck through a little bit of mud! I can’t explain it, but every redneck loves it and I’m no exception. Anyways, believe me when I say, that car went through hell and back! Apart from being irresponsible when it came to caring for the Buick, it illustrates how reckless I was in my pursuits. On the surface, it would appear that all I was trying to do was raise a few eyebrows, but subconsciously I was seeking validation. I was trying to prove something to myself and others. Needless to say, I relentlessly came up short and trust me, most of my attempts were not funny. This would be the underlying theme for most of my life, especially as it relates to the past few years.
It is important here to provide some context into my relationship with my father before I move forward with my story. My father is someone who was once charming, likeable and friendly. However, as history would reveal, his life was filled with many secrets, setbacks and failures. He was very active outside of his marriage with my mother. His unfaithfulness ultimately led to divorce. My mother actually recalls someone saying at the divorce hearing that “you would have to drive a bus down here to bring all of the women he slept around with.” So there’s that. As it pertains to me and my personal relationship with my father, it was brief. It’s hard to guestimate what age I was or how many years we actually spent with each other because I was so young and it was so inconsistent. Nevertheless, we would spend (roughly) every other Sunday together in my early years (between the ages of 5 and 8). These days would be relatively short but they meant the world to me. I would recall him asking me what I wanted to do and every time I would say, “let’s play basketball!” So we would. When we didn’t, we would go to see my Grandfather Ballance. He lived in a trailer park outside the city limits of Rocky Mount, NC. I loved him. I have nothing but warm thoughts and memories of him in my heart. He seemed stable and also tired. I learned he had a tough life as his wife left him to raise seven kids on his own. It should be mentioned that he did all of this on a railroad workers salary. Still, my dad had to fend for himself growing up.
The last memory I have of him as a little boy was one Sunday when I waited for him to pick me up. I waited by the window for hours, but he never came. Years would pass by before I spoke or saw him again. When I was 14, my grandfather died. Out of respect, I went to his funeral. My dad was there. After pulling me aside, he gave me his number and told me he wanted to get together and give me some money. The talk was CHEAP! I was so pissed at myself for not standing up and telling him how I felt. Two years later, I turned 16. My mother randomly suggested that I ask my father for money to buy a car. I really didn’t care about the money, but found an excuse to reach out to my dad. Of course he agreed to help pay for a car, but never delivered. It was a Friday afternoon and he sounded intoxicated. I later learned he had several DWI charges (among others) on his record. The last time I saw my father, I was 19 years old. My grandmother (who I never met or cared for-considering the circumstances) died and I knew my dad would be at the funeral. I saw this as an opportunity to see him face-to-face. When I saw him that cold winter’s evening at the funeral home, it was nothing short of disappointing. The youth and vigor that once filled his façade had diminished into a thin and sickly looking man. I would attribute this to the only thing consistent in his life, drugs and alcohol. Leading up to this point, I thought of all the things I would say to him. I would not emasculate him, but I would firmly let him know that he screwed up. I would also forgive him and we would move forward…together. I envisioned this relentlessly in my imagination. I never had the courage to say anything to him then and will never be given this opportunity. In the Spring of 2009, my father passed away.
After my father passed away in March of 2009, I made the decision to leave school and pursue a career in the Special Forces sector of the Air Force (Pararescue Jumper). I wanted to do something that was as extreme as possible and in the same sense, take me as far away from my perceived reality as I could get. I met with various AF recruiters and personnel in the process. If you know anything about the military, the motto is “hurry up and wait.” This proved to be the story for over a year. I lived my life in limbo, day in and day out. I’d meet with my recruiter and he’d tell me I was “good to go” and that I could possibly be leaving in a month or two. Unfortunately, this was the case for the next six consecutive meetings! Finally, after taking and passing my Physical Ability and Stamina Test, I was recognized as a top candidate for a Pararescue contract. In order to better prepare myself, I moved to Charleston, SC. There, I worked with various trainers and other Special Forces candidates. I wanted to make absolutely certain, I was going to have the best possible chance to succeed. It is now the fall of 2010 and nothing has changed! I am still waiting for a contract! Here is where all of the challenges come into play. I never once opened myself up to let God be in control. There were so many red flags signaling that this may not be in the cards for me, it was unreal! Time and time again, I became discouraged, worried and stressed about the entire situation. In my world, there was no other world! This was it! I wanted to be in control so bad. Moving to Charleston was an adventure, but another example of my reckless and impulsive ways. The biggest misfortune is that I wasn’t honest with myself. I did not want to believe that I might not make it through the selection process. I feared rejection more than ever. Guess what? It didn’t happen. The house of cards came crashing down. It felt as though my identity was stripped away. I blamed God and dismissed him for a long time. Finally and by God’s grace, after several years have passed, I understand. Letting go of that part of me hurt and was hard. It is so difficult to see the good that comes out of darkness. I now see that God used all of the past events, struggles, setbacks and letdowns in my life to show me that He has a far greater plan for me! One that is much more elevated than my perceived imagination. The key to this realization was letting Him into my heart to take lead in my life.
The turning point for me was when I was completely alone, stripped of my identity, and rejoicing in my struggles. Thanking God for giving me the strength to persevere and build on the character of the Godly man I knew I could and wanted to be. My life is much different now. Being a Christian is not easy and at times will make you feel a little crazy. Despite my insecurities, I Trust in the things that God is doing in my life and know that my new heart is good. I am still walking with a purpose, but I know now that it is for His purpose that I walk and not my own.
Before I end here, I want to tie up a few loose ends. I love my dad and made the decision to forgive him a long time ago. My dad and his six brothers and sisters had their own struggles that were far greater than my own. He reminds me of the many blessings in my life. He also reminds me that we have but one life to live. In the end, everyone will have a story to tell. The best has yet to be written. Live a great story.
