My testimony is not an uncommon story. I was lost, struggling with self-worth, unknown purpose, emotional pain, and most importantly, a life without God. Something will always be the most important thing to us; if it’s not God, it becomes an idol. If you can’t relate with another’s testimony, I encourage you to fill in that spot with your own struggle. It could be drugs, alcohol, pride, work, food, or even good deeds.
I suppose my story begins where all stories do, in childhood. My parents made many good choices and did a lot of things right. They also passed on some generational curses I would later face. I believe they did the best they could.
As a child, I didn’t feel safe. Even though my parents encouraged dreams, I never felt it was possible to rise above this life. I was a decent student and didn’t cause trouble. However, teachers and other kids’ parents didn’t give me much hope either. When they heard my last name, I was often judged and treated poorly. It felt like a curse passed down to the third and fourth generation.
I was socially awkward, looked down upon by teachers, and carried little hope for a future. I struggled with depression and thought about suicide, attempting to take my life more than once. That desire to die only lifted once my son was born. I knew my son needed me alive.
I began drinking and smoking pot at a young age. I thought working hard meant you didn’t have a problem. At 14, I spent my summers in the corn fields, and at 16, I began working at a restaurant. Unknown to my employers, I worked full time in the fields and full time closing the restaurant. Even in full-blown addiction, I was hard working, dependable, and often in leadership.
I didn’t believe I ever would get ahead in life, and drugs seemed like the path to fund schooling, a better job, and a way to rewrite my family tree.
I understood business and started dealing. I got in deep and fast! I was using a lot and selling even more. My drug choice was cash. I wanted to help others improve their lives and make money by providing large quantities. I had a sense of purpose. I felt successful. I had hope for a better future. This kind of hope was hollow; the emptiness always grew and more was always needed!
I had a few arrests, beat some charges and lost even more. With a charge pending, my son Tyler was taken from his mother’s custody and was placed with me. I have no doubt that this was God moving even before I knew Him. I didn’t want to risk losing him, so I stopped dealing. This meant I could no longer afford to use the amount of drugs I liked, so I began to drink instead–a legal escape!
Years later, my wife had a challenging pregnancy and went into labor at 24 weeks. The nurses called the doctor many times, but she doubted it was labor. Permission was finally given, but it was too late. Kalie was stillborn on December 1, 2005.
This eventually sent me into my darkest year. I drank more and began using drugs on the weekends, gradually using more often. My check couldn’t cover the amount I wanted, so it was time to start dealing. With a criminal record, I chose to attend church and appear respectable.
I had only been to church once before. A friend’s grandpa convinced me to go, but only for worship. I moved from atheist to agnostic, then explored paganism, crafting my own idea of God.
Still drunk and high, I would sing the songs, but skip the Jesus parts. No way He was the Son of God or born of a virgin! I had only gone three or four times before something unexpected happened.
On October 7, 2007, I was standing for worship when I accidentally sang the “Jesus” part. I caught myself, but something urged me to keep singing. I didn’t yet believe in Jesus or in the gifts of the Spirit. No one led me through a special prayer. I was simply singing a song, and in an instant, an inferno surged through my body: 500 degrees, my legs nearly buckled, and an utterance escaped my mouth! Tears streamed down my face, I gasped for air and asked,
“God? What do You want from me?”
“Go. Help someone and help yourself.”
These last few years, it has been a great joy to preach at revivals and other events. I also helped start a ministry that is reaching out to our communities. In different towns and states, we have set up tents numerous times. We hold events, provide free meals, prayers and hope. To see the light of hope spark in a person’s eyes is a feeling like no other. We have seen many amazing miracles and know God is on the move.
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