An important story about who I am: A long read.
It was a cold January day in South Florida … wait … it doesn’t get cold in South Florida. Well, it was a bleak time. The first Gulf war had just begun and people were scared and the daily papers had images of death and destruction hanging over Iraq. I still remember the headline in the Sun-Sentinel paper: “Is this the end?” joined by a picture of a huge black cloud billowing from an oil fire. At that time people were wondering if Saddam was the antichrist and if this could literally be THE end of the world. Well, 18 years later it wasn’t, but it was one of the key defining moments in my life.
Before that event, I lived a pretty ordinary life. I wasn’t really a trouble maker or had any dark secrets. I liked to go to the beach, read, play music and hang out with friends. Sure I loved to drink, and on occasion I smoked some pot. But no big deals, no proverbial skeleton’s in my closet (okay there was that time that I wrecked my passenger car door and lied to my Mom about it). But there was some thing wrong. I wasn’t happy with who I was. On occasion I had dreams, were I would be in the midst of the end of the world. The ground was shaking and there were upheavals. The sky was dark and fire was breaking around me. I knew at that moment it was the return of God, and I was not part of his kingdom. I knew I was going to hell. I would usually wake up scared out of my mind. I always felt the clichéd feeling of, “I’ll live my life my way, and then I’ll get with God towards the end”. But deep inside I knew that was a lie. Shortly before January, I started to get bored with drinking and hanging out with friends. I got tired of my routine, so I started to distance myself. I stopped drinking, but still hung out with my friends. Then I realized that they were a bunch of morons, so I stopped hanging with them. I did spend a lot of time with my best friend working on music and recording. At that time we were writing our anthemic song titled, “I don’t wanna go to war”. It was typical garage rock/metal. A few months went by, and then I read that article in the paper. I was scared. Was this the end? If so, would I go to hell? That night I took a shower, a long hot shower. Towards the end of it, I remember getting down on my knees and asking God to forgive me and asking him to save me. It was not really that emotional of a moment. Afterwards I went into my room and started clearing out every bit of “bad” thing I had. That mean a ton of tapes, books and such. I was an artist, so it meant some of my art, music, and poems. Three to four garbage bags full. I tossed it all. I sat down with my Mom and told her what I did. She understood, but I think it scared her more than anything. The next day I went to my best friends house and told him that I couldn’t hang with him anymore because I was walking with God and he wasn’t of that mind set. I remember crying as I walked away and I told him, “It’s never too late!” The next three days I spent “fasting”, not eating a thing. I didn’t even know why. I walked around work quietly. That is a big deal if you know me. I come from a family of LOUD people. I also like to joke and have fun. People noticed. Even the christian radio at the time was somber and doom and gloom. I remember listening to the head of the Moody Bible institute saying that this could possibly be it, the end. Slowly but surely, things got better. I went back to my best friend and hung out a few times. I met a bunch of new great people that seemed at the moment, like a movement of God touching young peoples lives. Some months later I met my wife (married 15 years and counting!) and the rest is history. A spent a lot of those first years crying and praying, getting rid of all the crap my life had built up over the years.
So, here we are 18 years later. I seen a lot over those years: Friends that faded away. Divorces. Institutions crumble. Enemies defeated by the patient quiet hand of God. Enemies turned into friends by the patient quiet hand of God. The birth of two great kids. The near death experience of my wife. The rise and fall of Christian metal and the the resurrection of it as well. Young friends taken away. Selfish desires like fire consuming lives. The miracle of salvation countless times. I’ve seen the importance of the Word of God. The greatness of walking a balanced life. The gift of “long suffering” (it’s a rarity these days). And finally, I’ve seen a Savior, that above all things, jealously desires us to the point of death. After 18 years, I realize that the more I understand God, the farther I am from understanding God. It is like dipping your hand in the ocean, you can fathom what water is, but you don’t know the whole of it. The depths, the life teaming in it, the secrets that it holds. So this is what defines me. This is what makes me. This is what saves me.