It has been said that you can choose your friends, but not your family. Some of us are brought up in households so dysfunctional and abusive, that it is nearly impossible to mature into a healthy, functional member of society. No one says, I want to be an addict or alcoholic when I grow up, but the chances are if you grew up in a dysfunctional family and predisposed to it, then you more than likely did. The things that we learned from our parents growing up, good or bad are often passed on to our children, and why most family problems run several generations deep. Are they not the sins of our fathers?
Very little happiness existed within my family. It seemed my father would go out of his way to criticize or belittle me. My earliest memories are of him beating me down and driving it home with how big a loser I was, or how I would never amount to anything. My mother did what she could to hold us together, but with eight kids and an abusive, alcoholic, and womanizing husband, she hardly stood a chance.
At that time in my life, I had little or no direction. I was like a wave in the ocean -- aimlessly rolling along. My father tried to control me with fear and intimidation, and the problems that would manifest themselves were nothing more than a reflection of my inability to conform to the rules and expectations my parents had laid out for me. When I think back they really weren’t that unreasonable. Eventually I lost all respect for him and began to resist his authority.
We constantly fought and argued. I became more and more emboldened and began pushing him, harder and harder until it eventually ended in a physical confrontation. I really came to hate the man. The only time I could relax and be myself, was when he was away or at work. Otherwise, I was a nervous wreck. There was never any positive influence or interaction between us. I was never encouraged, only discouraged, and I believe this is why I have always struggled with low self-esteem and confidence issues.
As my childhood misery unfolded -- when life at home became so unbearable, and I could stand it no longer -- but before I had lost my innocence, and my mind became poisoned with drugs and alcohol, before the county home schools, the jails, institutions and prisons, God blessed me in the form of a vision. I was twelve years old at the time and had just left the house. I was a jagged bundle of nerves and I had never felt so all alone as I did at that moment. I had just gotten into a physical confrontation with my father, and for the first time in my young life, I struck him back. I did not know what I was going to do, but whenever things got that bad, and I needed an escape, I would go down to a little wooded area where we kids hung out.
A heavy burden placed itself upon my heart, full of pain, guilt, anger and sorrow. As I sat there, something incredible happened, something I would not understand for many years to come. In a vision, I saw a beautiful white Dove gently gliding along on a warm breeze. The colors were so vivid and real, they seemed to breathe as if alive. The Dove was so amazingly stark white, and his eyes were so full of compassion and intelligence that I had to resist against the temptation of reaching out and touching its soft velvet coat of feathers. Suddenly, I saw myself standing on a stage with my head bowed. A spotlight shone down upon me from out above an audience (an audience I could not see, but could feel its presence). And then…thunderous applause! The people were applauding me. I could feel every emotion, theirs as well as mine. I felt an anointing and one that I would not experience again, to that degree anyway, until 2006, when I found myself in a little church outside our nation’s capital. I was so content, so at peace, so full of love, joy and hope. And then, just as suddenly as it began, it ended; the vision was over. It was such a profound and intense experience, full of life and hope, that I would guard it close to my heart and never forget it.
Only now has that vision (given to a broken little 12-year-old boy) come to fruition. It was God’s awesome promise. And I now know that everything I have ever gone through in life: my journey, my cross, all the pain and sorrow, would all be used to glorify God and be a powerful testimony to His grace and mercy.
Back in those days, drug addiction and alcoholism had yet to be diagnosed as disease. Even so, it would not have mattered much. The fact was that I was born an addict, and it was not long before my life spiraled out of control. Vandalism and shoplifting became my way of life. The prospect of getting caught did little to not deter me, and with the police station less then a block from our house, my parents did not have to go far to retrieve me. Then the inevitable happened, one night after I was arrested, they refused to come get me. That’s when I hit the big time, juvenile hall.
With my first experience in the system -- I discovered that most of the kids were into a great deal worse than I was. At 13, 14, and 15 years of age, they were already stealing cars and burglarizing houses. So, for me, it was like taking a crash course in all the basics: Criminal Activity and Drugs 101. I learned a great deal more than I ever wanted to imagine at that point in my life. But I learned in order to survive and adapt in my new environment. In those days (1971), there was really nothing in the way of rehabilitation for me. It was more than less, CONFORM OR ELSE. No one took a vested interest in me, or in any of the troubled youth. We were just a paycheck and nothing more than a 9-5.
I was barely fourteen, and sentenced to Glen Lake County Home School, and For what? As far as I was concerned, the only thing I was guilty of was publicly displaying the anger I had toward my father. I did not know what to think. I tried to fit in, but I was homesick and missed my friends; so I began to run.
After absconding several times, the juvenile court system decided I needed to be confined to a more secure facility, and I was sent to Lino Lakes Diagnostic Center. I remember how lost I felt as we pulled into the gated entry: massive 30-foot high fences topped with razor wire guarded a very large complex of buildings -- buildings deemed escape proof, but the two-inch thick Plexiglas windows, covered with thick metal screens, did nothing to deter me. I eventually found a way out (Lock picking 101).
Whenever I did escape, which was quite often, there were usually three of us, it didn’t matter what three the average stay was about 3 months so we were generally recycled through at a pretty good rate, if of course we conformed. It usually did not take them long to apprehend us and take us back to the fenced-in maze of misery. It was nothing more than a game: we’d escape, steal a car, joyride, and sleep in it until we were eventually caught. Also part of the game was that after getting caught, we’d have a group meeting (usually an all-nighter), show a little remorse, tell them what they wanted to hear, and regain their trust, all the while planning our next escape. Lino Lakes was nothing more than a lesson in criminality and did nothing for me other then make me more depraved and rebellious.
Whenever I was caught, my punishment found me locked in an 8x10 cell for a couple of weeks. Here I was, this man-child, 14 years old, and in solitary confinement. Until then, I had never experienced anything like it, and never felt so isolated and alone. The only thing allowed to be read while in solitary was the Bible. After the initial shock of being locked into an 8x10 wore off, and I came to the realization that I was going to be in there for quite some time, I began to read.
Beginning with the Book of Genesis, I worked my way through the Bible, and as I entered the land of Exodus, I became so drawn into the story that I became a part of it. I wondered the desert with them, it was as if I was there and witnessed it all. It angered me, and I thought, What the hell is wrong with these people; how stupid can someone be? The Jews tested God time after time, always wanting more signs and wonders, and God, through Moses, showed them His awesome power, miracle after miracle. For a short time, they would turn from their idol worshiping and repent. That was an important story for me because as I reflected upon my own life -- the countless miracles God had graced me with -- the divine favor was enough to get me to stop and repent for a while, but like the Israelites, I too, would soon forget and would turn back to my idol worshipping and old ways. And because of my disobedience, I wandered the desert -- the desert of life -- for 40 years.
All through my teen years and into my early adult life, I made lots of friends. Those that I had befriended in Glen Lake and Lino Lakes as a juvenile were the ones that I would later end up serving time with as an adult in various state and federal penitentiaries. But all those friends I had made over the years slowly began to thin out and wither away. Most of them are gone now, about 20 in all, either by way of drug overdose, suicide, execution, or murder. It is sad because they were good people, and for those of us still alive today, it is quite clear that it was the drugs and alcohol that had ruined our lives. Despite the unfortunate end for them, those whose life-long battle ended in death, they all had personalities, they all had a heart and soul just like you and me, but just did not know how to tap into the Father’s healing. We were all lost in a very dark place, and the darkness became so familiar to us, we did not realize it, until it was too late for most. There was nothing for any of us to help us better our lives. The system back then was nothing like it is today in terms of rehabilitation.
Studies have shown that without a proper support system, those completing an intense drug treatment program, or are just released from jail or prison and sent back into the community have little or no chance of remaining drug and alcohol free. Returning to the same people, places, and things does little more than prolong the inevitable, RELAPSE. That is what happened to me.
Once you enter the vicious cycle of relapse, it becomes a downward spiral towards death and destruction. I had multiple crimes under my belt at a very young age: property crimes, white collar crimes, forgery and burglaries. I used my acquired talent to support my drug habit. I became a sophisticated check forger to feed my addiction. Eventually, I went right to the source and began burglarizing drug stores and hospital pharmacies. I eventually began dealing drugs directly. I remember the day when I realized I had become an addict. I had just dropped a bag of pharmaceuticals off at a drug dealer’s house. I did a little cocaine back then, but my drug of choice was Tussionex hydromorphone cough syrup. I called it gorilla snot because that is what the thick yellow syrup looked like. I use to get liter bottles of it from the pharmacies I used to burglarize. I had just left the drug dealer’s house, and as I pulled around the corner, I was grossly overcome with nausea and had to pull over. Anyone who has ever undergone opiate withdrawal knows that feeling. I got violently sick and began vomiting. My bowels loosened, and I experienced hot flashes. My joints and bones burned with fire …I knew at that instant… I had become my worst nightmare - I was officially a drug addict.
Unfortunately, the horror of that self-realization did not last very long. It was the chase I found myself addicted to more than the drug itself. I ended up hurting the people I loved the most by betraying their trust through forgeries and theft, and it seemed I would never recover from this downward spiral of destruction. At that point in my life, my mind was so overtaken by chemicals -- fused and intricately interwoven with hauntings of my childhood and my own feelings of inadequacy, that part of me did not care anymore. I found an outlet, and it became the driving force behind my choice to wake up each morning. Drugs were my motivation and the chase was what I lived for.
I do not know how many times I have overdosed on drugs and had to be resuscitated. An addict does not focus on keeping count. The pure insanity of it, was that after being inubated, defibulated and resuscitated, when I did come to… the first thoughts to enter my mind … were …Where are my drugs?… the Fentanyl, the dilaudid, the Oxy‘s, whatever it was I had OD’d on, I wanted the rest of them back. They were my prescriptions; I paid for them. When you wake up lying on a gurney in the ER with a doctor looking down at you, holding your head between his hands, defibulater pads taped to your chest, and the first thing you think about when you come to is how the NARCAN they gave you is ruining your high -- that’s insanity. I was so deep into my addiction that I had no regard for my life, much less comprehending what I had put my family through.
There are so many dark chapters in my life. I have been at death’s door so many times. I was hit by a car speeding 60 mph while I was on foot -- it hit me so hard, it knocked me out of my boots and threw me 180 feet down the road. I have been stabbed several times, had my throat cut, endured eight drug overdoses, survived two suicide attempts, and have broken my back twice (which required 4 back surgeries in as many years). It was not long before I discovered that my physical injuries were a Visa Platinum card with unlimited credit. I could get any drug I wanted, whenever I wanted… and for however long I wanted it, Phentenyl, Dilaudid, Oxycontin, Morphine and Methadone … all the “good” drugs.
Because I had broken my back, the business I built and worked so hard to get, slipped away from me. While in the process of building a home for my family, I discovered that my wife was having an affair. One day she just packed up, took my daughter and left me with my son. My life was a house of cards, built on a beach and it all came crashing down. My life soon mirrored the Book of Job. I could identify with him, because everything that I thought was important in life was suddenly snatched away. First my health, then my business, my wife and family, and not long after that, the house I had built burned to the ground. I lost everything I had, everything.
In 2003, after having everything ripped out from under me, my soul shattered for the final time. I was hooked on drugs and things got so bad I felt I had nothing to live for. I was not successful at anything I was involved with, and I ended up in a state hospital where I was finally weaned off the drugs. I tried to get my life back together and moved out East to Virginia, (having moved from Minnesota), to stay with my daughter who was now an adult. Things only got worse. I became very depressed and was put on medication which only exacerbated the depression and I became suicidal. Then one night, a dark presence overcame me and a voice spoke, telling me that I had nothing to live for, that my father was right, I was a loser, and that I was better off dead. I made a conscious choice to listen to that voice. I wrote a note to my daughter with the sole intention of breathing not another breath. I almost succeeded. Yet, my daughter came home and found me, called 911, and I was transported to the nearest emergency room. My daughter thought it would be better if no one saw the suicide note I had written, so they assumed it was an accidental drug overdose. No one knew the torment I was suffering in my head and my heart. The combination of Paxil and Seroquil that I took was nearly lethal, but medical personnel managed to revive me. The toxicity in my body, however, made me extremely combative upon resuscitation. I do not even remember being violent, nor do I remember being at the hospital. But I was later told that I needed to be restrained after assaulting several members of the medical crew who were fighting to save my life. The authorities ended up charging me with assault, and when I did come to, I found myself in a jail cell, in Newport News, VA. My never-ending nightmare was starting all over again. I cannot begin to describe the horror I felt coming out of that drug-induced stupor. I remember first opening my eyes, looking up at the bars in my cell and just wanting to hang myself.
I was still in the deepest emotional pain of my life; so depressed -- my heart and soul cried out… I had nothing and nobody. It seemed I would never escape the prison my life had become. Finally, I managed the courage to call my brother. God must have worked on his heart, as He worked on mine to make the call, because my brother had mercy on me and decided I had had enough. That was the start. It took all that I had gone through to this point, to become so beaten and battered, that I was read to finally surrender and admit that I was powerless to help myself. My pride was broken, and the rebellion lay by the wayside, in a pool of blood stained tears. I did not realize it then, but God was preparing my soul to receive His mercy, after so many years of self-torment. Suicide had become an exercise in futility, and it was finally apparent to me that I was stuck for the long haul.
The life preserver my brother threw out to me came in the form of a friend and ordained minister, whose name is Robert. I did not know what the plan was exactly, but I figured anything was better than where I had just come from. After bailing me out, we eventually traveled to the Georgetown - DC area to attend a 3-day Pentecostal Revival. I would see things during those meetings that I could never have imagined … and I would be touched in a way I would never forget. Robert could only take me to the door of that church, but God in His infinite mercy, took me the rest of the way on that day. For the first time in my life, I met Love, and God took me into His heart and redeemed me. He wrapped His arms around me and held me… and welcomed me home.
I remember, when I crossed the threshold of those church doors, I was so sick and tired of being… sick and tired. I was ready for change. The church was very crowded. The speaker was dynamic and gifted, and I found myself hanging on to every word he spoke that day. God had His hand on him. From the moment I walked into the church - which was standing room only – and as I heard the choir and the worship music play in the background, it was as though God spoke audibly and directly to me. Another voice, very different from the one I had heard telling me to take my life - spoke deep into my soul… “You’re here, you’re whole and it’s over…you’re finally home”. I knew that it could only be the voice of God. That day, I made a conscious choice to listen to that voice, and I became one of God’s prodigal sons. When my heart heard His voice, His words pierced my soul and I knew in the depths of my being that I would never have to go back to my old way of living. A weight was lifted off of my heart, and my mind suddenly cleared. There was no more fogginess, no more darkness, no more haze - just pure clarity. The pain and all the emotions that were once so raw, even just from moments before – were replaced with an anointing of the most incredible peace and hope. Words cannot describe adequately what I felt. It is just something we must all experience. It was so powerfully intense that I just fell to my knees. My whole body was filled with so much hope and instantaneous joy, it was overwhelming. Tears just poured down from my face, and I literally fell to the ground. All I could do was thank the Lord, right there, from my knees. The weight of my heart was finally gone and replaced with hope, peace and light…. It was amazing. I cried for three hours as I listened to the guest speaker, convinced that his message was tailor-made just for me.
The next day, we went back again, and it was even more crowded and more intense than before. I could not stop crying. God had healed my mind, body and soul. I was so grateful and thankful. I was indeed, the prodigal son. On the third and final day, the church was packed to capacity. When I walked in, the Presence of God was so strong that I could barely stand the anointing of peace and hope. What He put in my heart was so intensely incredible, that whenever I go back to church He meets me, and pours more of Himself into every fiber of my being. I was born anew that day, and I finally understood what it means to be a vessel of mercy.
Everything in God’s plan is so perfect. Every door that opens, every person or circumstance that God places in our life is divinely ordered, so that it eventually fulfills His plan for our lives. We do not always recognize that, especially when we’re going through the tough times, but it is very true. The trials prepare us for the testimony. The dots that God connects are so perfect, and I realize more and more each day how His hand continues to connect them as I remain in His Presence. When I share my testimony on how God restored my life, how He took a broken, beaten, and battered soul, one of the worst examples of humanity - a thief, a thug and an addict, and to the world - a loser - God took all that I was, and turned my life around for good, I am still humbled. He was the only One who remained patient with me, and saw something good that He could use, in spite of everything I tried to do to destroy it. He remembered the prayer I said when I was 12, and I can only guess that He remembered because I was a child… lost and lonely, confused and shamed, neglected and battered… and I trusted Him that day. I felt His Presence. And even though poor choices and their inevitable consequences took me away from His Presence, God never left me. He was there waiting all the time, watching and hoping that I would once again, call on Him. And when I made the conscious choice to do just that, He took every circumstance I had ever went through, and somehow, He used it to fashion me to His purpose. To me it was no longer a wasted life, but a blessing and I am very grateful, FOR MANY ARE CALLED, BUT FEW ARE CHOSEN.
Today I get on my knees and lift my arms in praise. I give thanks to the Lord with all my heart. I have so much joy, so much love and so much hope, and AM so humbled. My prayer to the Lord is this, “Lord, use me as you will, use my testimony to glorify your name.”
I believe that until we die to ourselves, we will always be circling that mountain… and there is no shortcut. The journey up the mountain is our journey through life, and it is never easy.
I am now a divorced man. But after 23 years of marriage, two years of separation, and a divorce only six months final, my wife was taken from me permanently. She died in November, 2007 of a drug overdose. Even though she is technically my ex-wife, I do not have anything I can go back to, not even the good within that relationship, because she is gone. The Lord is filling the void that is my heart, with His amazing Love. My life is a picture of one who has had everything from his past removed -- all of my material wealth, everything I thought that would bring me happiness and peace of mind… everything was removed, so that all things could be made new. I give God all the glory for the great things He has done in my life. He is on my mind 24-7 now, instead of the drugs. When you see the doors that He has opened in your life - the doors He has yet to open in your life - when you see how He can heal your life, and clear your mind, and lift the weights from your heart – you will see the same thing I do. Love personified… and you’ll never look back to the pain. You’ll only look back at His faithfulness.
It is my opinion that one cannot effectively minister to a lost and battered soul without intervening in his natural circumstances and offer him hope for his future. This, I believe, is why God revealed details to me. I have been there and done that. It was me, and it consumed me… for nearly all of my life. Now, I have no desire to rob, cheat and steal, because the Lord has fashioned me in His image, and I no longer need to reflect the devil’s image. God has put His trust in me to the point I no longer need to steal to survive. He has given me the keys to the vault, and I have access, by His grace, to all the provision and abundance I will ever need to fulfill His plan for my life. I no longer need to try and control my own destiny, because God has had mine mapped out from the beginning of time. The only thing I regret is having lost so much time, searching for the treasure, when all I had to do was look within my own heart. God has redeemed my life, and in the time I have left, He is using all that I have endured as a pathway to lead others from despair and darkness into a world of hope and light. I now have a Great Commission to fulfill, like every other child of God, and this is my part in fulfilling it.
I see my job like this: to tell others that there IS a God and we have a choice. We can either make a conscious choice to come to the knowledge of Him and all He stands for, or choose to continue to remain in a life of misery leading to our inevitable death. No one else can save us. Looking to man is pointless. We all need to look to The Savior, Jesus Christ. I want to encourage others who are traveling the road like I did to open their hearts and minds to the only One Who can take the mistakes they have made in life and redeem them; the only One Who can turn everything around for good. I desire to bridge others into accepting Jesus into their lives and into their hearts, forsaking all the quick-fix theologies out there that say they promote peace and goodwill. I want to help others find the real Jesus, and He will cause others to come alongside you, and help you and encourage you… and you will see what I have seen through the eyes of unconditional love: Amazing Grace. You will be able to say, as the old song goes “how sweet the sound… that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now I’m found, was blind, but now I see.”
Today, I live to testify to God’s faithfulness, He made me who I am in Christ. By His Grace alone, I have started over once again, only this time, it is with understanding of Who HE is, and that I am nothing without Him. I can do nothing apart from His Grace, and even though I stumble, He will not let me fall. Not completely anyway. I know I will stumble many more times. Yet, I am secure in the hollow of His hand, and nothing… not even death, can take me out of His hand. I am humbled to say that, even with my dismal past, God has opened doors for me to work with a non-profit organization, as a chief financial fundraiser, and He’s gifted me with the ability to write grants for other non-profit organizations. When I was in prison, God outlined a plan that I never thought would come to fruition, not in my lifetime anyway. But God has perfect timing, and He has remained faithful.
I have also been led to create a faith-based organization called The Cycle of Life Foundation (www.3genx.org). It encompasses every circumstance that I have personally encountered. The main focus is to help socially and economically disenfranchised youth, so that they can have hope for their futures. I am learning, as I mature in the Lord, that He does not waste one single event we experience in life. Everything He outlined to me when I was in prison and sitting alone in an isolated cell is coming alive through this ministry. Its purpose is to give hope to those drug addicts and alcoholics who have been written off by society - for those who have been neglected and abused - and who the world says is worthless, it is for them that this foundation exists. It is for the single parents who are overwhelmed with obligations and responsibilities; those who are in abusive relationships, who are trapped in the public welfare system who desire to get out, but just need a BRIDGE -- a helping hand, clear direction and a safe place to regroup without suffering the penalties for trying. It is for the elderly and the handicapped that are on a fixed income, who find it next to impossible to live according to the edicts of today’s societal standards. The Cycle of Life Foundation was created to use one social problem to remedy another, and is the epitome of what the true Gospel of Jesus Christ is all about.
In addition, I have also been blessed with an opportunity to serve through a newly founded organization called The Gift of Art Network, a nonprofit global web-linking support network designed to bring artists and organizations together and to expand their networking capabilities to more individuals and families in communities around the country and world.
I love the Lord and he has blessed me with a family that has never given up on me. He has blessed me with so many miracles in my life that it is time for me to testify to His goodness and mercy. So many will be graced with a chance, and for others, it will end like it did for most of my friends. Satan comes to steal, kill and destroy. My life mission is to help others see that they do not have time to waste. In five minutes, a person could draw his or her last breath. The question begging a definite answer is simply this: “Are you ready to draw that last breath 5 minutes from now, and do you know where you‘ll spend eternity?“ The time is too short, and your life was meant to bring God glory. If you do not believe me, just ask Him yourself.
~ The Cycle of Life Foundation ~
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SOCIAL PROBLEM TO REMEDY ANOTHER ><>
from everyone
who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who
has been entrusted with much, much more will be required.
