Redemption Sunday: Meet Gabe!

It's been several months now since my last Redemption Story, but I wanted to share this with you.  As you may know Gabe Taylor is "Mike" from Mike's Story.

We revealed who Gabe was on a Sunday morning in August at our church.  Click here to watch what happened that morning.

Mike Revealed

Yesterday was incredible!  I love Redemption Sundays!

I love the atmosphere - the feeling of anticipation... the joy of singing songs of celebration led by our Worship Team at FFM.  I love the overwhelming presence of the Holy Spirit that fills the room... I love knowing that it's not just Erin... or it' not just Mike that have a story of Redemption.

I love knowing that this thing called REDEMPTION is for ANYONE!!

Already, I have more ideas in the works for future redemption stories, and I'll let you know when they start.  In the meantime, let me tell you about the real Mike and Rachel.  I read these words before introducing them yesterday:

"A pearl is the symbol for purity and innocence.  They are beautiful and rare – and not easily broken.  Its value is great and many seek to possess them.  This is who Rachel is.  Her real name is one that means “pearl” and in her life we’ve seen the rare beauty of a woman who saw the value of innocence and purity.  Like a pearl, she proved to be unbreakable.  She knew her worth and for that, she held fast.  In the end, her value to her husband became priceless, for had she wavered in the face of temptation, I firmly believe we would not be celebrating their lives today.

Mike in this story was searching for power and might.  Should it be any surprise that the answer was given to him each time someone called his name?  God is my strength!   God is my might!  This is the meaning of the name his parent’s gave him on the day he was born.  And though it took years for him to discover where to find true power and might, Mike now embraces the truth of where his strength comes from – it is found in the blood of Jesus!

I see it as an beautiful reminder to all of us each time we say their names.  Now I invite you celebrate Mike's redemption with me!  Please welcome Gabe and his precious pearl, Rita!"

His name is Gabe.  Gabe Taylor.

He works the sound board at our church - and does a fabulous job with it!  He and his wife, Rita, have been a part of FFM since before they were married and, yes, that is where Gabe got saved all those years ago.  (The Doug in the story is Doug Schwartz - one of the elders)  Gabe also runs the sound for the Schwartz Family - yes, he's Erin Eve's brother-in-law.  (I promised their mother-in-law, Sandy, that I'd leave her family alone now!) :)


Gabe and Rita have two handsome little boys named Morgan and Owen.  As a family, they are passionate about building relationships within their family.  Gabe and Rita have made it their goal to get involved in their boys' lives - to spend quality time with them, to talk with them about anything and everything, in an effort to keep their boys from traveling down the same road Gabe had been on for so long.

Yesterday, Gabe's voice was full of passion as he spoke about the fact that one day every knee will bow before God.  Rita also spoke and encouraged us to be people of integrity.  (As soon as the video is uploaded, I'll link up so you can watch it!)  After the service, the altar was flooded with people - some to be released from their own chains of bondage and some who are parent's, longing for their children to have a story of redemption to tell.


I'm excited as I watch people realizing through the stories of both Gabe and Erin that they are not alone. 

There is redemption!

There is hope! 

Peace can be found - no matter who we are or what we've done - through a relationship with Jesus!

Beauty for Ashes - Mike's Story Part 5

We have reached the final week before "Mike" reveals his identity.   I invite you to join us at Firm Foundation Ministries in Centreville at 10:00AM to hear from "Mike" personally as he shares from his heart about how his life has been changed from the man he used to be.

If you are new to Mike's story, you can find the links to all five parts on the sidebar to the right.  As always, please feel free to share this story with others who's lives have been affected by drugs or alcohol.  Mike found hope and his desire is to share this gift with others who need a reason to live.

Beauty for Ashes

I couldn’t sleep.

I lay there staring at the ceiling.  How many nights had I laid here, wrestling with God – knowing He was calling me to Himself, hearing His promises of a better life, yet unwilling to surrender my desires, my control to His? 

I considered how many times I had woken up in a cold sweat, my heart racing at the visions of people dressed in black and white racing around at thousands of miles per hour all tangled together  - like spaghetti.   I could still picture the parties I had attended, the amounts of drugs I was able to do while maintaining control.  I remembered the countless days and nights I had used cocaine and vodka as a tool to fill the insatiable void inside of me.

Then there was that moment - the night I had reached my lowest point.  I don’t remember what time it was or whether it spring or fall.  I simply remember sitting alone in the darkness of my house.  I had tried everything I could think of to gain power and strength and though I knew I was calling on a whole new realm of darkness and evil, I did it anyway.  I called out to Satan.  I invited him to give me his power and strength – and he was all too willing to take control of me.

Now, I had lived at that level of darkness for so long, I doubted there was any hope for me.  I was an angry and unsatisfied person – and I was fine with that.  Until now. 

Never before I had I been unable to attain the very thing I wanted - until Rachel.  Never before was I held back by a power stronger than my own – until Rachel.   Never before was I told no, that I couldn't have what I wanted – not until this beautiful woman came into my life.

She claimed her power and strength was not hers alone - but from her relationship with Jesus.  That defied everything I had ever told myself.  Christians were weak!  They used Jesus for a crutch and their way of life repulsed me.  Until Rachel.

And now she was gone.  Walked away!  The most precious gift had been within my grasp, and I had lost it.  There still was no doubt in my mind that she was the gift God had promised to me and I wondered what life would be like if I surrendered.  What would happen if I were to turn my back on Satan and follow God instead?  What would life be like without the power and control I now had?  What would it be like to live under His will – instead of my own?

The sun was starting to come up, and I had yet to sleep.  I didn’t care.  I had wasted too many days and nights already – I wasn’t about to waste another moment living in this wilderness of shattered dreams and raw pain.  I had already lost Rachel, and the life I had lived for so long had no value.  The darkness... the hurting was too great.   He, God Himself, had been calling me to come to Him for so long and I was beginning to see the truth - I had nothing left to lose... but so much more to gain! 

I pulled back the curtain and watched how slowly the sun’s rays began sweeping across the land outside my window.  As light found its way onto each hill and valley, darkness was dispelled.  I froze.  The moment was symbolic of my soul.  Just now, for the first time in years, I began to feel the warmth of light creep into my life.  Remaining in this wasteland I called “living” was an option, but with the promise of a life of peace… of joy… of hope on the horizon, why would I want to stay?

I jumped in my truck and headed for the only place I could think of to find peace.  It was the church Rachel had taken me to.  I had no plan, no idea of what I was to do.  The burning in my spirit was consuming me and I had never felt more alone. 

Still, somehow… somewhere deep inside of me, I knew God was speaking to me.  He had laid it out on the table and I knew I had a choice to make.  He was offering me one of two options - live… or die.  The life I had chosen to live for so long was taking me straight towards death.  Few people can fill their bodies with so many drugs and alcohol and come out alive – yet I had, but for what reason?  In those moments while driving to the church, I saw it all very clearly.  My time would be limited if I continued on this path. I knew that without a doubt.  Now, I needed to make a decision. 

The church building came into view.  I turned left and took the first parking spot I could find.  Walking quickly down the sidewalk, I yanked open the double doors and stepped inside.  The chaos, the turmoil, the thoughts racing through my mind fell away for a moment as I drank in the coolness of the air conditioned foyer.  Music was coming from the auditorium and I stood mesmerized by the words as they floated through the air, landing like drops of refreshing rain on my dry and thirsty soul.   I moved towards the auditorium, unsure of what to do – where to go.  A movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention.  It was Doug.  I had seen him here at the church before while visiting with Rachel.   Without a second thought, I turned and stopped him, “Hey, uhmm… can I talk to you?”

“Sure!”  Doug turned and stepped into a nearby office and closed the door behind me.  I mopped at the sweat gathering on my forehead, nervous, but unwilling to turn back now.

“What can I do for you, Mike?”  Doug’s voice was kind, his eyes full of sympathy and compassion.

“I don’t know what I want, Doug.”  My words were rushed and I struggled to find a way to describe what I was going through.  “My life, it’s… well, I’ve lived…. I’ve lived.”  I stopped and rubbed my eyes, telling myself to just spit it out!  Tell him, Mike!  Tell him about the drugs, the alcohol, the women… the fighting.  Tell him about the darkness that hovers around and in you with every step you take and every breath you breathe.  My heart skipped a beat as a new thought came into focus.  Tell him how you offered your life to the Devil.  Then see what happens!  Because then and only then will you be able to know if there is any hope for someone like you. 

The battle raging inside continued as I looked up.  Doug was waiting patiently, but his eyes told me something.  He knew the struggle I was fighting.  I could see a… a knowing… an understanding inside him of what I was facing.  “I don’t know how to change, Doug.  I’ve lived this way for so long, I don’t know if there’s any hope for me.” 

Doug listened as I poured out my story to him.  I told it all to him, ready and willing to accept at that at any moment that he might say there was no hope for me. 

But he didn’t.

With tears glistening in his eyes, Doug told me how he had faced his own struggles – some similar to my own, as a young man.  He told me of the moment he had come to recognize the love that God had for him.  He told me that this love was so deep, so consuming that God had paid a ransom to buy back those who were bound by Satan’s prison of sin and darkness.  God did that by sending Jesus to die as a sacrifice for sin, he told me.  And as He hung on a cross, the blood that spilled out of his body was the blood that washed away my sins!  All of my sins!  Every single one of them could be washed away!  

Doug told me that I could be free from the crushing weight I carried in my heart.  He told me I could experience a life of light… and not darkness!   He told me that I was loved and that the power that brought Jesus back to life could live… in… me.

That’s when I broke down.  I mean, I literally fell apart!   Leaning forward, I buried my head in my hands while I bawled like a baby.  I couldn’t believe it!  He loved me! Me!  Even after all the things I’d done – He still wanted to have a relationship with me!  My head felt like it was about to explode and my eyes burned while sobs wracked my body and tears streamed down my face.

I was ready.  More ready than I’d ever been.  I closed my eyes and lifted my face towards the ceiling.  “God, I am a sinner!  I’ve been so wrong.  I can’t even begin to remember the times I’ve turned my back on You.  I can’t even start to tell You of all the ways I’ve failed You.  I’ve been living in darkness for so long and I can’t even imagine what living in light must be like, but Doug says it’s possible.  He says I can be forgiven of my sins and have peace and joy in my life… all I have to do is ask.  So, I’m asking You, Jesus.”  I paused, my heart racing as drops of sweat dripped down off my face and landed on my pants.   “Will You, Jesus?  Will You please forgive me for all of my sin?  Will You wash the darkness away and fill me with Your light?”

“I’ve lost so much by living my own way.  I’m so sorry… so sorry for turning my back on You.  I see now that You love me, and I want to love You back.  I want to live my life for You – no matter the cost.”

I opened my eyes and looked at Doug.  He was crying but I couldn’t shed a tear.  While I had been praying, light had entered the room.  I felt warmth and a joy I had never experienced before.  My heart had felt close to bursting so many times when I was searching for a rush, but this… this was like nothing I had ever encountered before.  It was the most ultimate, all-consuming, overwhelming, heart-stopping rush I had ever experienced.  I laughed!  All the searching I had done was for this moment!  This very feeling had eluded me and I believed it could only be found in a bottle. 

But the answer had been so simple.  It was Jesus.

Jesus!  He loved me!  In the short moments when I cried out to Him, He removed the sickness and filth I was carrying in my soul and filled me with the highest high I had ever known!  I stood and left the church a new person!

As I tell you my story today, I am a man who is blessed far beyond what I deserve.  I didn’t get Rachel that day, but I did find the new love of my life – Jesus Christ.  The void in my soul has been filled by Him and now I hunger to serve Him - to be closer to Him. 

I am so unworthy, but He reminds me that He doesn’t see who I was, but who I am.  I love Him with all my heart and soul and I have so much to thank Him for.  The fact that God sent His Son to pay the ultimate price for all my sin amazes me still.  This... this is true love!

But God didn’t stop there!  His blessings in my life astound me daily. 

Three years after I surrendered my life to the Lord, I stood at the front of a church on a beautiful spring day watching her walk down the aisle towards me.  She was beautiful and pure and good – and God had saved her for me.  He hadn’t forgotten His promise and on that day, He gave her to me.  

My Rachel.

Who is Mike?

Mike's story has struck a chord with many of you.  I have heard comments about how much you all appreciate Mike's willingness to tell the "nitty gritty" of what he's been through.  Telling your story isn't always easy.  It takes us to a place of vulnerability, yet the rewards of seeing the hope it offers to others is worth it all!

Like Eve, Mike has been invited to speak at my church, Firm Foundation Ministries in Centreville.  Again, the service is being called Redemption Sunday, as we focus on the amazing gift of redemption!

Do you see it?  Are you catching on to the truth in these stories?  It's REDEMPTION!  To take what once had no value and give it meaning and purpose!  Remember the story of the Broken Pot?  Take it to heart! 

You and I are all Mike... you and I are all Eve!  God has taken my useless broken life and giving me meaning and purpose - and it's His desire to do the same for you - no matter who you are or what you've done!  Eve's life... Mike's life... my own life... it's all living proof of that truth!  God loves to redeem!

So I invite you - join us on Sunday, August 7th at 10 AM as we celebrate with Mike the special way God redeemed him and gave him the very life He had promised Mike - even when all seemed hopeless.

Losing It All - Mike's Story Part 4

The deeper I get into "Mike's" story, the more inspired I am. I love peeling back each layer as we discover who this man once was and I CANNOT wait to introduce you to him!

What excites me, is the fact that he is living proof of the gift of a REDEEMED life! Once you meet the man he is today, you will only shake your head in amazement and agree with me that God is a God of mercy! He is a God of grace!

What I want more than anything from these stories is for each of us to recognize ourselves in the Eve's and the Mike's staring back at us through the lines on this blog. We all are born with a sinful nature. We all have choices to make. But above all, we all have a Creator who longs to embrace us. He delights in who we are and wants more than anything to give us a life of abundant peace and joy.

Read Mike's story and stay tuned! Soon, very soon, I want to introduce you to Mike and the man he is today. I promise, you will be amazed at the transformation God has made in his life!

As always, I invite you to share his story with others! Our desire is to offer hope to those who are hopeless.

The Man in the Mirror - Part 1

Living A Lie - Part 2 

Invincible - Part 3

Losing It All

I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of her.  The similarities between this girl and the woman in my visions were beyond ironic – simply put, it was the same woman!   I didn’t speak to her that day, but I left completely convinced that she was the life God had been promising me. 

Time went by and I never could shake the girl-from-the-funeral from my mind.  I continued pursuing the life of sin with little thought or care for myself – or anyone else… still, there are moments I look back on and realize God was opening my eyes and revealing the utter darkness and despair my life had become. 

One day stands out among the others.  I was at a party in Kalamazoo.  A big shot drug dealer from a larger city was there as well.  Hanging out with guys like him had become the norm in my life, and I thought little of it.  We stood there, just shootin’ the breeze, having a few drinks when his phone rang.  As soon as he said, “Hello”, I could hear something was obviously wrong on the other end.  Screams were coming through the phone – a woman hollering for him to come help her.  He listened for a second then with a calm, cold voice said, “I don’t know you!” and snapped the phone shut.

I stood staring at him, obviously wondering what was going on.  He chuckled as he reached for a cigarette, “It’s nothing.  My girlfriend, well, ex-girlfriend, just got busted with some drugs.”  His enunciated words were dripping with sarcasm.  He paused for moment then went on, a sinister chuckle in his voice.  “My drugs actually.  I had her bringing the goods down here for me.”  He muttered a string of expletives under his breath.  “When I think about how much she had on her…”  His voice trailed off for a moment.  “Man, she’s gonna get locked up for a long time.  A long, long time!”    Lighting the cigarette, he tipped his head back and blew a thick white cloud above us.  We were silent.  What went through his mind, I don’t know, but I was disgusted.  Dark and uncaring as I had let myself become in my own thoughts and actions, still this stunned me.  That was just cold.  I knew I never wanted to sink to that level!

Eventually, I moved back home to work with my parents.  They had offered me a job at their business and I chose to quit doing drugs at that point.  I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting them with the knowledge of the kind of life I was living.  Quitting wasn’t hard.  I simply quit.  Besides, I still had booze, which I drank with pleasure.

To my surprise, I discovered the girl-from-the-funeral lived close by!   My aunt had introduced us and I wondered about this Rachel-girl often. 

It was getting on towards evening that night we first talked.  I was working late and was surprised to look up and see Rachel standing there.  She had stopped in for one reason or another and soon we got caught up in a conversation – just the usual, where’d-you-go-to-school and you-live-close-by kind of stuff.

She was by far one of the sweetest girls I’d ever met.  Rachel was one of those “good girls”.  Like me, she had grown up going to church, only she had wholeheartedly embraced the Christian scene.   We hit it off immediately and soon it became a common occurrence for her to stop by and see me at work.  I couldn’t help but wonder what her parents must think about Rachel spending time with a guy like me, but I wasn’t about to ask. 

One evening, though, our conversation took  a turn, she began talking to me about her relationship with God.  I had heard all the mumbo jumbo Christian stuff and I didn’t want to hear it again – especially from an intriguing girl like Rachel.  I had other things I rather talk about – like would she go out with me on Friday night. 

I finally worked up the courage to ask her out and she promptly turned me down.  “What?  Why?”  I asked, surprised that someone would tell me “no”.

“I’m sorry, Mike.  You’re a nice guy and everything, but I only date guys I would actually consider marrying.”

Ouch!  “Seriously?”  I was annoyed.  “Come on!  Go out with me on Friday.  We’ll just go catch a movie and get something to eat.”  But she wouldn’t be persuaded.

“I can’t Mike.  I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t about to take no for an answer.  I never did.  Everyone else I had ever wanted something from gave it to me, yet here was this pretty little church girl telling me, Mike the tough guy, “no”?   

One Friday night she had a date – and it wasn’t with me.  I had asked her out over and over again, always receiving the same answer – still, one could hope!   That night though, I couldn’t stand the thought of her spending time with another guy but there was little I could do about it.  So I did the only thing I could do - I went to her house.  She was ready and waiting for the twerp to show up, so I sat with her begging for a chance.

“Why can’t you just like me for who I am?” I asked.

“Mike, I do like you,” Her brown eyes did crazy things to my heart and I wished time would stand still.  “But I can’t go out with a guy who doesn’t have a relationship with God!”  In that moment it hit me.  All my life I had searched for power… a strength that could only be measured as super-natural.  I pushed the limits time and time again in an effort to prove my strength.  I had stared death fearlessly in the face numerous times, impressed by the power I had over others.  The darkness of evil that hovered near me at every turn filled me with dangerous courage and I loved it – always pushing for more power… more strength.  Yet here before me, wrapped up in this beautiful woman called Rachel exuded all the power and strength I had searched for so long.  She was the essence of it!  I couldn’t get enough of her.  I wanted that kind of strength with everything in me. 

I sat staring at her, knowing my time was limited.  “What’s it gonna take, Rachel?  What do I have to do to get you to go out with me sometime?”

“Come to church with me,” she said.  Suddenly, I had to get going.  Her date was going to be there soon and I didn’t want to be there when he arrived. 

I stood to my feet, “Churches are full of hypocrites, Rachel.  Thanks anyway.”

I drove out the drive, ticked.  We had had that conversation before.  On one of the many evenings she’d stopped in to see me at work, I had told her in no uncertain terms that should I ever need help, I knew I could rely on my non-Christian friends way more than I’d ever be able to count on the losers I’d find sitting in a pew.

Her answer surprised me, but her words played through my mind, “You know what, Mike, you might be right, and I’m sorry that that has been your experience.  But you have to know that it’s more than that.  Those people, the Christians who have let you down, they have to answer for themselves, but what about you?  You will only find peace when you surrender your life to God!”  Over the weeks she had pushed and prodded, but I was stubborn, refusing to give in to her churchy ways.

The next morning I called her.  “Doing anything tonight?”  I hoped that somehow she had changed her mind after last night’s conversation.

“Well, yes, Mike.  Actually, I’m going on a date.”

“What?  Why will you go out with all these other guys but never me?”

She was relentless, and I hung up frustrated.  I spent the day annoyed, trying to figure out a way to change her mind, but I knew better.  It was that strength – that crazy ability to stand strong no matter how hard I tried to convince her otherwise.  Fine!  I’d do it!

She didn’t seem too surprised when I showed up again that night to sit with her as she waited for her date, but her eyes couldn’t deny her amazement when I asked if I could go to church with her the next morning.

Those next weeks were awesome!  True, we argued a lot about God and church and stuff like that, but as long as I was willing to go to church, she was willing to go with me. 

I was still doing much better as far as drugs were concerned until that fateful night at the concert.  The night my old “friend” stopped by and picked me up.  It was then I experienced the horrible night in the restroom.  As I stood scrubbing the vomit from my shirt that night, I couldn’t help but wonder what Rachel would think if she could see me now?  This life was miserable and lonely.  I wanted so badly the life God had promised me.  A battle was raging inside of me and I wasn’t ready to let go.  Simply put, I wanted to live my life my way! 

I left the bathroom that night, knowing that once again, I had been spared; still I was unwilling to surrender my will... my desires… my life to a Holy God.   My only hope was that maybe, just maybe, I could have this life… and Rachel too!

In an effort to appear like the godly man Rachel thought she needed, I began to study the Bible.  I made sure she found out about it, but in the next moment would pressure her to take our relationship further.  I saw no reason to “wait”, but Rachel, again, would not be swayed.  No matter how hard I tried, no matter the times I bombarded her to let me prove my love to her, she would not relent.

It was a warm spring evening when she came to me.  I had my head buried under the hood of my truck when I heard the door open.  She stood there staring at me, and I knew.  Her eyes were filled with tears as she said the words I never wanted to hear.

“We can’t go on like this, Mike.  I love you, I really do, but this isn’t right.  You’re not the kind of man God has for me.”  I stood staring at her sure I could hear the sound of my heart as it broke to pieces.

“No,” I could only whisper as I clung to her. 

“I’m sorry, Mike, I really am.”  She had tried to break things off with me before, but I had always been able to change her mind.  This time was different.  I could see it in her eyes – there was that inner strength again.  The strength I still only dreamed of having. 

I knew it was over. 

I considered what my life was before her and what it would likely become again when she walked out that door.  I couldn’t hold back the tears and I sobbed like a child wishing I could find a way to recover what I had lost.

The tears were still streaming down her face as she whispered “good-bye”, and then, she was gone.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Invincible - Mike's Story Part 3

This is part 3 of a series I've been posting about a guy we're calling "Mike".  Mike's story is amazing to me - especially knowing who the real Mike is!  I cannot wait to introduce you to him!  

In two weeks, Mike's story will reveal who he is.

As I've worked with him in writing his story, I've been reminded once again how much I take people at face value.  I've known Mike since he met his wife and had no idea what all he had been through!  His testimony, like Eve's, is of modern day redemption!   Mike is living proof that God has a plan for all of us - no matter who we are or what we've done.  God's desire is to give us all a life full of abundant peace, joy and purpose.

If you know anyone who is living a life much like Mike describes below, please share this story with them!

The Man in the Mirror - Part 1

Living A Lie - Part 2

Invincible - Part 3

I left for college, fully intent on becoming a Physical Therapist, but it didn’t take long for me to learn there was something I was better at than that part of the medical field.  As I said before, I was good at all the wrong things, but at college I realized I was great at all the wrong things. 

I started seeing the quality of my friends decline, but I didn’t care.  I didn’t care about them or myself.   It was time to party!   One night in particular stands out in my mind.  Someone had given me a challenge and I had something to prove, “What do you mean I can’t drink this bottle down?  I’ve been bonging vodka and whiskey all night while you sip that beer!”  I thought I was so cool… so tough.  These guys had nothin’ on me!  “Bring me another fifth!”  I tossed an empty bottle aside, “One only gets me warm and fuzzy.”   As the night went on, my vision not only blurred – it disappeared altogether.  That was the first time of many to follow that I went blind from drinking so much.  I don’t know why, but it would happen some times when I really drank a lot.  

Faster... faster... faster... more... more... more!  I’m searching for something, I want something, no, maybe everything!  Give it all to me!  I just couldn’t get enough.   Aw, come on, my truck only tops out at 130 miles per hour?  This isn’t fast enough!  I know, I’ll see how fast I can go around that curve.  Okay, that was a good rush!  How can I drive so good when I’m drunk?  I don’t know.   Here come some headlights, I’ll drive right at them and see what happens.  Yup, that was a rush!  I love it!  I think my heart’s coming out of my chest! 

But I needed more!  Alcohol on its own, just wasn’t enough anymore.

I hardly ever let anyone see this, but I look back, and realize that even as a kid I was like that – looking for a rush.  I would try things just to see if I could do it, but not if someone else was around – I was afraid of what they would think. I lived like that for years almost as though two people lived in one body.  The good Christian boy when I needed to be and the nothing can satisfy me sinner when I wanted to feel alive or maybe when I felt like I had to feel that rush.

As a kid, I remember climbing bins every day and each day jumping off one rung higher until I ran out of rungs.  My legs would just collapse when I hit the ground.  Another time I jumped from the top of one bin to another.  And then there was the time I climbed up three stories on the narrow side of a two by four.  I loved the excitement that would surge through my body, and was always looking for more.  

Now here in college, it was no exception.  I was on a constant mission for the next high.  With alcohol leaving me still wanting more, I started experimenting with drugs.  It didn’t take long before it wasn’t an experiment anymore and this too became a way of life - or maybe a suspended death.  I didn’t care about anything or anyone, including myself.   Someone would say, “You can’t drink that much” or other times, “Dude, you shouldn’t snort all that”.

“Double it!”  I would respond.   I was always surprised at how some people couldn’t handle drugs and alcohol.  I learned that when I felt like I couldn’t take anymore, if I made myself throw up, I could keep right on going!  It was a thrill to see what would happen, not knowing the outcome - even if it meant death.   I guess that’s what happens when you just don’t care.   

I got myself into worse and worse situations.  Let’s just say, I’ve looked at the wrong end of a gun more times than I want to remember.  One time that comes to mind, I was in a basement and I was pretty sure I was not going to make it out alive from a drug deal gone bad.   Then there was the time someone pulled a gun on me and I dared him to shoot.  I walked up to him, stretched my arms out to the side baring my chest and invited him to “pull the trigger”.  He didn’t.  Instead he ran off with his buddies to a nearby gas station. 

He wasn't aware of it, but I followed him.  As the he and his friends came out of the store and I grabbed the guy and pinned him to the wall.  I began choking him and I could see the realization in his eyes that he knew his life was in my hands and that he could feel it slipping away from him and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.  It was the ultimate rush and I loved it.   I controlled life and death face to face.  I’m not sure why his friends didn’t do anything to help him, they just stood there.  Thank God I finally put him down.  I remember listening to him gasping for breath as I bent down and whispered in his ear that if he ever pulled a gun on me again he better pull the trigger or I would take it away from him and kill him with it.  Then I just stood up and walked back to my truck and drove away. 

I just didn’t care! 

I felt like I was indestructible.  I got this feeling from Satan, I’m sure of it.  Most people start selling drugs just to pay for their own, and I’m sure that was part of it, but I liked the power, the control and the thrill of doing it.  I soon figured out that I was great at this too! 

The quality of my friends continued to decline.  One of them was facing forty to life for seven counts of attempted murder and several other felonies.  Another had just beaten his first investigation in which he was moving $30,000 of drugs every month.  Still another got busted as a repeat offender and ended up serving his time in Jackson.  Several of them were constantly in and out of jail.  One of my roommates decided to go to California and I found out later that they found his car - but they never found him. 

I cared so little that one day when I was shorted by ten dollars, I got angry!  This wasn’t acceptable!  So, I grabbed a buddy and we went to find the culprit.  I had a little machine gun and I had every intention of getting my money - one way or another.   I shake my head now in disbelief.  All over ten dollars (tell me that’s not Satan)! 

Still I continued to search for that next high – that next rush.  Several times when I was driving, I would slowly drift into the other lane to see what would happen – hoping to feel that excitement pulse through my veins!  One day while driving down the highway, I decided to close my eyes and see how long I could keep them closed.  I challenged myself to see if I could make it farther than the time before – without hitting anything – or anybody.  Other times, I would come to blind intersections and never stop or slow down, I would just gun it.

I thank God every day that I never hurt any of the people I forced off the road - especially now that I have a family of my own.  I can’t imagine how I could have done that!  Thank God he spared not only me but everyone who could have been hurt or killed. 

By this time I was so full of sin that people I used to know would comment about how different I looked and acted.   I believe my sin affected me on the outside as well as the inside.  Because of how I was raised, I knew what I had become and I accepted it, even asked for more.  But, through all of this, God never turned his back on me as I did to Him!  I remember battling with Him on many sleepless nights.  Through it all, He continued to reach out to me. 

I know it sounds funny.  I’ve tried to explain it to my wife even though I don’t fully understand it myself, but God continued to try so show me visions with a promise of a better life.  He was offering me a life with Him and I could see my wife (even though I didn’t know her at the time) that He was promising me.   He constantly would reveal to me what He had for me if I would just give up the control and give my life to Him.

I was at my Grandpa’s funeral when I saw her for the first time.  I find it ironic really – sitting there mourning the loss of my grandpa… contemplating death, when the promise of life walked into the room.  The instant I saw her, I recognized her – she was the woman from my dreams – literally!  I knew instantly she was the “promise” God had for me. 

Now I had a choice to make – would I choose life?  Or continue on this fast track towards death?

Living a Lie - Mike's Story Part 2

Mike's Story - Part 1 

My testimony is not of a person who didn’t know the Lord.  I grew up in a Christian home with great parents.  We went to church Sunday morning, Sunday night – even on Wednesday nights.  I can’t remember the exact age I was, but I vividly recall sitting on the edge of my bed as a little boy with my Bible.  My mom sat there with me as she led me to the Lord.  I was saved!  If only the “once saved, always saved” mantra was true, unfortunately, my life is living proof how wrong it is!

By my fifteenth birthday, I had turned my back on all I knew.  I found it was fun and exciting to be wild with no limits.  My parents were good parents.  They had given me boundaries, and I did my best to live my life within those borders.  So, how am I going to keep up appearances?  Lie, lie, lie!  

I didn’t set out to do it, it just happened as I allowed more and more sin into my life.  I started becoming more and more antisocial, distancing myself from my friends and family.  Shortly after I began drinking, it became an all day, everyday thing. 

You may wonder how this was possible for a young boy with a wonderful Christian family.  You might argue the fact that I could do this while involved in church, passionate about sports and continuing to maintain good grades - but it was quite easy actually.  I soon figured out that I was very good at all the wrong things. 

********

“This is awesome!” I thought.  I was at my first drinking party.  People were everywhere – laughing and having a great time.   Someone had handed me a beer and I liked what I was tasting.  Inwardly, I puffed my chest out a bit.  I had been invited by some older guys and I wanted to impress them with my ability to keep up.

Loud cheers erupted from a group of partiers gathered in a circle towards the center of the room.   I elbowed my way through to see what was happening.  “Man!  Look how much that guy can drink!”  I was immediately impressed as I watched one kid in particular chugging down beer in a race against the other drinkers – only difference?  He was using a two-liter bottle – and winning!  I envied his ability!

I reached for another beer and smiled inwardly.  This was living, really living!  And I was all too willing to join in wholeheartedly.  By the time I passed out on top of a freezer that night, I had taken down thirty-four beers.  Why I remember the number, I don’t know.  But I can tell you this, that night was the beginning of a very long road of abuse and pain.

Even now as I think back to that time, I am bombarded by so many feelings – excitement, fear, pain, disgust… shock.   I shake my head in disbelief that this story is mine to tell.   I soon discovered I liked liquor better than beer.  It made me feel better quicker and it was easier to hide.

By the age of sixteen, I was guzzling vodka before my 6:00AM workout.  At seventeen, it only changed in that I added another couple of rounds after school each day.   By my eighteenth birthday, I needed more.  The 6:00AM fix didn’t cut it.  Once I was finished with my workout, I was convinced a few good drinks before school started was what I needed. 

I soon started filling Mountain Dew bottles full of vodka for my 8:00AM classes, telling myself the classes would stink without it!  I made it through the morning classes, but several bottles later, you’d find me sliding my shoulders along the lockers – struggling to stay upright.  “Pull it together, Mike!” I’d tell myself, “There’s a teacher coming.  Get it together like you always do…  Just get to class and then you can sleep!”  Somehow, I would make it through the day, but even as I worked my way around the cross-country course, I would stop long enough to get another drink.   Lap, after lap, after lap, I just couldn’t resist the temptation to get another guzzle down another one.

“Sober up, man”, I knew it was time to go home.  My best plan of action was to get home, clean up and get back out of the house before having a confrontation with my parents.  I’d shrug my shoulders, “oh well, even if I do see them, I’ll just lie.”  That was the beauty of my drink of choice – Vodka; it’s hard to smell, so I found it easy enough to hide my addiction.

Getting my next drink consumed my thoughts.  Only a few people knew about my habit, but even they didn’t know the extent of it.  I drank all day everyday – except during football season.  My love for football was stronger than my love for Vodka, and it was only the arrival of football season each year that gave me the will to sober up.

But when the stadium lights were turned off for the last time each fall, boredom set in.  Soon I was back to my old habits.  Unfortunately, eventually the drinking lost its edge.  I needed a new rush.  I was about to hit a new low, trying to find my next high.  But like always, I didn’t care.

The Man in the Mirror - Mike's Story Part 1

Today is the beginning of a new series of modern day REDEMPTION stories.  If you follow my blog, you know that I have dedicated Monday's to helping others tell their personal stories of how they found redemption.

Just like "Eve", we have chosen to keep "Mike's" real identity a secret until later.  Why?  I want you, the reader, to be able to read the story without pre-conceived ideas about who this person is.  In some ways, we are all Eve's, we are all Mike's.  Our paths in life take us different directions, but we ultimately share the same need - Redemption.

If you or someone you know struggles with drugs and alcohol, this story will bring hope.  God is a God of second chances and Mike is here to tell us how he knows this from personal experience.

 The Man in the Mirror

There was scuffling of footsteps off to my left.  I lifted my head to see who was there, but caught only a glimpse of white sneakers walking away.  Groaning, I turned over and curled up in the fetal position, hoping to sink back into the comforting darkness of sleep. 

Water.  I kept hearing water.  Running, always running. The floor beneath me was cold and hard… and sticky, nothing like my bed at home.  More footsteps and a toilet flushing.  “What the…?”  Rubbing my eyes, I sat up quickly only to hit my head on the rim of the toilet behind me.  An expletive rolled easily off my tongue as I slammed my hand against the door.  It banged shut and snapped back at my face as if to mock me.  Still massaging the pain in my skull, I tried to take inventory of what I was doing here - wherever “here” was.

Somehow I had ended up in a restroom.  The stench coming from the stalls and the moisture from the disgusting tile floor I was laying on was enough to tell me that.  I could feel a wet spot on my shoulder and realized I had been sleeping in a puddle of God-only-knows-what as I lay wrapped around an equally wet toilet.  Slowly, I staggered to my feet and leaned heavily over the nearest sink.

The door opened again and a young kid stepped around the corner.  He stopped for a moment, startled by my appearance.  Just as quickly, he looked away and walked back out.  I shrugged my shoulders, indifferent to the cause of his leaving. 

My mouth tasted awful and I spit into the sink.  Shaking my head a bit, still trying to make sense of what had happened to me, I caught my reflection in the mirror.  No wonder that kid had left.  I looked like death warmed over!  Smelled like it too!  Down the front of my shirt was a mixture of vomit, sweat, and… I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what else.   

My head was pounding and the noise only grew louder now as the door opened once again.  This time, it was two men, both in their late thirties.  The first one made a beeline for the nearest stall, while the other stopped in his tracks and let out a low whistle, “Dude!  You all right?”

“I’m fine.”  He and I both knew it was a lie but neither had a problem with him turning and walking away.   

Cranking the faucet, I began scrubbing at my shirt, trying to rid myself of the gut-wrenching smell that had ground its way into the fibers of the fabric.   Boom,  ba-ba-boom, ba-ba-boom, boom, boom.  The pounding wouldn’t relent.  Where am I?  My thoughts are racing now, trying to make sense of it all, when suddenly, I remember!  The concert!  I had come here tonight with some friends.  But… but then what happened?

Slowly, I remember and soon it’s all there before me - the fight in the mosh pit.  A sinister smile spread across my face and I couldn’t stop the chuckle that burst from my lips when I recalled the explosion beneath the weight of my fist as I punched the other guy in the nose.  So what if I had been hitting on his girlfriend, he had messed with the wrong guy when he chose to come after me.  I felt powerful and I liked it.  I had stood over the bleeding man, my heart feeling like it was about to burst, but satisfied that despite the line of coke I had snorted earlier, I was still in control.

EMT’s were called in to carry the guy out while bouncers stepped in and warned me to shape up or ship out.  That’s when I had left the mosh pit and stumbled to the bathroom.  

I rubbed my eyes and stared at myself.  What happened after that?   I thought hard and through the fog remembered feeling my control slipping away as I neared the restroom.  By the time I had found an empty stall, I was sure my time was up.  I could still feel the floor rising up to meet me as I collapsed next to the toilet.  I had done a lot of coke and wondered now if my body could handle it.  Just before I had sank into the welcoming darkness, I resigned myself to the fact that I had lost the game.  “Usually you can handle it, Mike, but oh well.  This time you went too far.”

How long I lay there, I can’t recall.  But as I stood scrubbing at my shirt, I couldn’t shake the picture of Rachel that kept flashing before my eyes.

Rachel. My Rachel.  Even now in my drug induced state, I see her chocolaty brown eyes, her long dark hair and the way she casually tosses it over her shoulder when she talks to me.  Her smile is just as beautiful and comes easily.  But what if she could see me now?  What if she had seen me – lying there in my own filth - overdosed on drugs?

I stare down at the empty stall where I had been sleeping then back to the man in the mirror.  Death had been closer than ever and I knew it was time.  If I wanted to keep, no, if I wanted win the heart of my Rachel, something had to change.   “But what would she want with a guy like you?”  I can’t help but tell myself the ugly truth.  I knew I wasn’t living the way I should.  My parents had raised me better than this.   Still, it was easier to be wrong that right. 

Satisfied that I had cleaned up as good as I could, I smoothed my shirt and headed for the door. Girls like Rachel deserved a good man, not overdosed guys who passed out in public restrooms.  I found my buddies and we headed out, looking for the next rush.  The next high.

I shook the picture of Rachel out of my head.  The night was still young, I had survived my closest call yet, and frankly, I just didn’t care.