My Search For Acceptance

By Jack Cochise

My name is Jack Cochise. My birthplace and home is the beautiful town of Mescalero, New Mexico—home of the Mescalero Apache Tribe. My grandmother was Amelia Naiche, daughter of the great Apache leader Naiche. His father was Cochise, chief of the Chiricahua Apache. His mother, Dos-Teh-Seh, was daughter of the great Apache leader Dasoda-hae—also known as Mangus Coloradas. It is a wonderful history, and I am honored to be of Native American descent.

Growing up in the Mescalero community, I was taught that Natives from other tribes were to be treated as outsiders—anyone who wasn’t Apache. And if someone was not part of our clan, they were considered outsiders as well. I grew up learning how our land was stolen. I was taught how to hate—and who to hate.

This hatred and cultural prejudice was also directed toward me. It didn’t make sense to me until I was old enough to understand what the word “half-breed” meant. That label caused me great hurt.

For you see, I am not a full-blooded Apache. I am also a descendant of the Oglala Sioux, Cherokee, Black-Irish, and French-Canadian people. My relatives labeled me as a half-breed and blamed me for their problems. In turn, I learned to blame everyone and everything else for my woes and hurts. I found it so easy to blame others for my pain.

I was desperately searching for hope. I sought for answers in Native medicine and in Ussen—the Apache traditional god. What I found only deepened my frustration, prejudice, and hatred. I learned that the Apache spirits were never happy or harmonious—but were always hungry and angry. What I learned and experienced left me with more mys­tery and spiritual confusion. All my interactions with Ussen were filled with fear, depression, and a sense of dread. I was afraid of the noises that I would hear in the middle of the night—in the darkness.

I was left disappointed and without answers for my pain. I remained without comfort, security, love, hope, or peace. The cycle of addiction, despair, and pain runs deep in our culture and in our Native families.

My experience growing up on the reservation was no better and no worse than anybody else who grows up on tribal land. I know the heartbreak, drugs, alcohol, and abuse that takes place across our reservation communities. My father was an alcoholic and made our lives a living hell. I was physically and sexually abused between the ages of 9 and 11. I turned to drugs and alcohol to self-medicate—trying to make life easier to deal with.

I hoped that drugs would give me the peace I so wanted. I hoped that money would give me the power to control my own life. I hoped that sex would give me the love I never had growing up. I was desperate—desperate for anything that resembled hope.

I became a physically aggressive and abusive person at an early age—stealing things and running away from home and from boarding school. My reputation as a thief shocked my little community. The crimes I committed were serious enough to have me placed in a federal institution.

By the time I was 18 years of age, I was a raging addict in the reservation party lifestyle. I was defeated by life. I celebrated my 21st birthday with a party—waking up the next morning (my actual birthday) with a brutal headache and hangover. I was at rock bottom.

I looked at my past choices and the current lifestyle I was living. After failing so miserably and looking in so many dark places, God brought to my memory two Bible verses that I had heard in church as a youngster.

For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God. –Romans 3:23

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. –John 3:16

I had not thought about God’s Word in years, but these two verses came back into my mind for some reason. For the first time, I realized that these verses were talking about me—Jack Cochise. I was a sinner. I was lost and without God. But God loved me anyway—enough to help me.

No Native religion ever spoke to me this way. I was hated by other tribes for being Apache, but God accepted me. I was rejected by my own people, but God loved me. I had been misused and mistrusted by my family, but God cared about me.

But God commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. –Romans 5:8

God’s Holy Spirit began working in my heart. I began to realize that God created me and wanted me to spend eternity with Him. There was nobody in my life who knew me that well and still loved me. I was used to holding peo­ple at arm’s length—afraid of being rejected. Was it even possible that God—Who knew the worst about me—could still love me?

After many hours of soul-searching, I realized that I wasn’t doing the searching—God was. God found me and did a work inside of me. He took His Word and did His work in my heart. He brought understanding of Bible verses that I had heard so long before…and brought me to a point of decision.

The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God. They are corrupt, they have done abominable works, there is none that doeth good. –Psalm 14:1

The Lord looked down from Heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did understand, and seek God. –Psalm 14:2

They are all gone aside, they are all together become filthy: there is none that doeth good, no, not one. –Psalm 14:3

As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one: There is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God. –Romans 3:10-11

For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost. –Luke 19:10

I accepted Christ as my Savior that day—on my 21st birthday! I prayed, asking God to forgive me and give me eternal life. My prayer was simple:

God, I want the peace You are offering because I have no peace of my own, and I can’t find peace anywhere. I know I am a sinner. I believe Your Son Jesus died for my sins…for me! I ask for forgiveness for what I have done. God forgive me. Please save me! I want Jesus to live in my heart. I accept Jesus Christ as my Savior today!

For the first time in many years, I cried. Tears ran down my face as I realized that I had been searched for and found by my Creator. I didn’t just feel alive and forgiven—I knew I was alive and forgiven. God’s Holy Spirit made it clear to me (Romans 8:16).

Faith had invaded my heart, and the spiritual battle for my soul was over. Christ had won—Christ had become the answer to my despair. There is only one Person who can break the cycle of hurt, and His name is Jesus Christ! He loves you and wants to give you hope!

I was lost, but now I am found. My identity is now in Jesus Christ, Who knew everything about me and still loved me enough to die for me. The Spirit of God used the Word of God to expose my sinful heart. The Bible is now my com­pass for life (Proverbs 3:5-7).

For the Word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword…and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. –Hebrews 4:12

So shall My Word be that goeth forth out of My mouth: it shall not return unto Me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it. –Isaiah 55:11

I am now a grandfather, and it is my job to teach my grand­children about their heritage. I want them to be proud of our ancestry as descendants of Apache warriors. But there is an even more important heritage that we can all receive from God:

For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. –Romans 8:14

No matter what you have done—no matter how hopeless you may feel—God can heal you and transform your life. I have found the faith of my great-grandfather Naiche, who changed his name to “Christian Naiche” after placing his faith in Jesus Christ as his Savior. When I found Christ, I discovered the heritage I had been searching for—a heri­tage of faith in Jesus. My prayer is that you will too.

One generation shall praise Thy works to another, and shall declare Thy mighty acts. –Psalm 145:4

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