We Finally Found Our New Home

If you have read or heard anything that I have written or my wife has had to say, we have gotten to a point where we do not feel comfortable in church. Because of that it had become a struggle every week to even make it to church. In fact, we would find excuses to not attend church. I would bet that over the past 6 months we have not attended more than we have attended church. I had forgotten just how much break ups can hurt, and was quickly reminded of it this year.

Since March we have tried various churches. We have visited some really good churches. Some of them were more appealing than others, but something was always missing. None of them felt like home. Maybe there was too much pop psychology for us and not enough Jesus.  Maybe the worship music was not what we needed: either too traditional or they played secular music. Maybe they did not have a recovery program or their children’s program was not what we needed. Something was missing, so my wife and I compiled a list of what we wanted in a home church.

It turns out there are a lot of things that my wife and I wanted to find in our church:

1.       A sermon that was Biblically sound with a lot of meat and little fluff

2.       A great kids program

3.       A worship team that played worship music

4.       A recovery program

5.       Sunday school

6.       An accessible pastor that tended his flock

My wife and I started exploring various churches, looking for ones that met our criteria. She sent me a link for Glendale Christian Church (GCC). I went to their site and read about it. Everything looked good. I then listened to a couple of the sermons they had posted, and the message sounded great. They even had their worship songs listed on the site, and the sets were amazing. So, we decided to give it a shot.

Two Sundays ago we went there for the first time. At most of the churches we had tried something had gone wrong or sounded wrong or simply did not fit our needs. Glendale hit on everything on our list, going above and beyond our expectations on almost all of them. It all began in the daycare when we first came inside.

We walked in and went to the daycare to drop off our daughter, Addison. She normally cries when we hand her over to the daycare workers. I sat her on the floor so I could fill out her sticker, and the door to the daycare opened up as someone else put their kids in and she just walked inside and started playing. We then asked a guy about classes for my son. He said that DJ would go up after worship to his class. He then found us 10 minutes later inside of the congregation and said that he was wrong, and DJ could go to his class now.

I took DJ up to his class and dropped him off. My son knew the song they were worshipping to and took off inside. I went back down and listened to the sermon. I enjoyed the sermon, and the worship music they played really primed me to receive the message it contained. Then we went to get DJ from class. Normally, when I pick DJ up from class and ask him what he learned he tells me he doesn’t remember. This time he was able to list several people from the Bible they had talked about as well as two of the songs they had sang in worship.

We did not stay for Sunday school the first week, as we already had other plans. So we picked up DJ and left. I figured that they would send us a form letter or give us a call during the week. I was wrong. Instead, the senior pastor showed up at the house with fresh baked bread and talked to Julie for a while. He left there headed to several other people’s houses. Not going to lie, that really impressed me a lot.  It might have made a bigger impression on me than anything.

Friday we attended the Celebrate Recovery (CR) group at Glendale. It was everything that a CR should be. Friendly, happy, safe and you feel that you can talk about the things that you need to share and no one will judge you or look at you differently. The Celebrate Recovery Missouri State representative goes to GCC. I was glad they  had a CR over any of the other recovery groups I have ever attended. I love CR in particular because of the change it has made in my life, so I was very happy to go to another one and can envision myself becoming a productive part of it in the future.

We came back and attended GCC again this past Sunday. I heard one of  the best worship services I have sat through (ever) and the sermon focused on fulfilling our Christian commission by going into jails and/or prisons if we felt called to do so as part of their prison ministry. This time we went to Sunday school and it was also really good. After Julie and I left we talked about our experience there. We had each encountered so many positives that we both had reached the same conclusion ……….we had found our new home!

My Life as a Bad Guy Part 3: Meth in Missouri

I decided that I was headed towards jail or expulsion so I moved to Missouri from Illinois. Once there, I tried methamphetamine. I liked it, a lot. Soon school was no longer important to me. It got in the way of my partying and I dropped out  the last semester of my senior year. I headed towards rock bottom. I went to jail multiple times. My probation officer sent me to Scared Straight at the prison in Jefferson City. I spent 120 days on house arrest and several years on probation, stacking up violations.

I had some things happen that should have changed me. I had a couple friends die in drinking and driving accidents. I was the first one on the scene and found one of my friends dead. I saw a friend get beat to death and another beat into a coma. I had alcohol poisoning and stopped breathing. They pumped my stomach and I was drinking again the next night. I saw someone I knew get shot during a drug deal.

I went on the run for a while. I was gone for almost a year. It is exhausting, being on the run. You always look over your shoulder in the party world, and it is three times as bad when you have warrants out for your arrest and all of the city and county police know what you look like. Finally, I needed some rest. I showed up at the probation office, and when my probation officer walked out I told him I was ready to go to prison. He said okay. I turned 21 in Booneville Correctional Center. I was drunk an hour after I was released and used intravenously later that night for the very first time.

I had found methamphetamine and learned that it could help with my pain. I was able to numb myself for periods of time with meth. When I started using intravenously, that was the end of me as a person. It gave me a feeling I had never experienced before. I became dead inside and only felt alive when I was high. After years of being an Agnostic, I had found my Higher Power. Meth became my God. Then it turned into Satan.

I hoped for death. I had alcohol poisoning and lived. Drunk, I flew a car 97 feet down a hill, clipping trees 32 feet in the air and lived. I attempted suicide and my sister found me unconscious in a pool of blood. The ambulance got there in time to save me. I lived. Are you noticing a pattern? That was the 5th time I had flatlined, and I kept coming back. I promised my sister I would never try to kill myself again after the attempted suicide. The truth is, I wanted to die. I no longer wanted to live and I was tired of feeling.

Meth gave me all I thought I needed. I had money, power, friends, women, excitement and so much more. I was the life of the party. But I was still dead inside. I could be at a party with 100 people and feel completely alone. I did not feel alive unless I was high. Meth was all I cared about. I would sit at home in a funk if I wasn't high, so I discovered a new lifestyle. I would stay up from Sunday when I woke up until Sunday morning when I would go to bed. I joked that if God got a Sabbath day, so should I.

I would wake up to a shot of dope on Sunday evening, then stay high through the week until early Sunday morning when I would take a handful of benzodiazepines to help me sleep. I found that I never hurt if I stayed high. No one ever got close enough to me to really hurt me as long as I was high. It got to the point that if I was awake, I was high.

I became heartless and used everyone I came in contact with. I knew if I didn't use them they would use me. Why not be first. Everyone in my life was there to serve me. I let people be my friend because they would allow me to be around a better class of people, they had money, they had dope, they cooked dope, they had friends who bought my dope, they were pretty and would sleep with me or I was trying to sleep with them, they would get high with me, they had things to loan me that I needed, they had a car I could use when I thought mine was hot or they had a house for me to party at so I didn't have to use mine.

Everyone and everything had a purpose. Some times I did nice things, but I even had ulterior motives for that. I remember one of my friends having a baby and being broke. I helped his family pay the bills for several months so that they could not work and  bond. I helped pay rent, utilities and even bought them food. I then would frequently bring up doing that any time people would talk trash about  me being a dope dealer. "Well, look at the good things I do with my money."

I would give people $100's just to remind them about it when I  needed to borrow their car or have a party at their house. I would justify my selling meth with this logic, "I use Super B to cut it. Other people use stuff that is really bad to cut theirs. My people get vitamins so I am doing them a favor by dealing." Life was a hustle, and I was good at being a hustler.

Somewhere along the way I became more suicidal. Some might call it an addiction to the rush of adrenaline. I would show up to a meth cooks house not knowing them to buy methamphetamine. I would hang out with the most sketched out people I knew. I would buy  meth at the  hottest houses I knew just to see if when I got pulled over they would find the dope. I was insane and no longer cared. I always had my sister to fall back on, and for the most part I could always argue that I was only hurting myself.

That is another thing I always did in my addiction. I downplayed the impact of everything that I did. I would justify my dealing with the law of supply and demand and my dope was better for them. I would never look at the money that I took from people. Maybe when they came down they beat their wife or kids. Not my problem. Maybe they gave me their families grocery money.  Not my fault. I would have tons of food stamps, at 30 cents on the dollar if I didn't like you and 50 cents if I did. Maybe they were robbing people for money to buy it. If it wasn't me getting robbed, I was fine with it. Maybe they would get high and rape people. As long as it wasn't my sister getting hurt, who cares? I know that I didn't!

The truth is that I saw and did things that give me nightmares 15 years later. I was insane, doing insane things and I associated with insane people. I have held people at gun point and made them strip because I thought they were wearing a wire. I have beat someone unconscious, waited for him to regain consciousness so that I could beat them some more. That was over $25, to set an example. I have done and seen much worse, sometimes for money, sometimes because they crossed lines and sometimes just because I was bored and angry.

I have ravaged people emotionally and psychologically, leaving them a shell of their former selves. I have built a shot for someone that they overdosed on. Quite a few people have overdosed on my drugs, I am quite sure. I have given many people their first shot of dope, because I knew that if I did that I would have control over them for life. I was evil, and I was okay with that. It was what I was good at, so I did it.

On the flip side of that, I have been robbed several times. I have been held at gun point. I have often been in situations I didn't know if I would live through. I have been beaten unconscious. I have been jumped by multiple people on several occasions. I have overdosed and been left for dead where I was. I have holes in me I was not born with put there by other people. I have been face down on the floor during a raid with a gun to the back of my head. I am certain that I deserved all of that and a whole lot more.

I was a bad guy. I look back on my life and I don't know how I am still alive. Scratch that, after dying more times than I can count on one hand and overamping multiple times, I am alive because there was some good EMTs and paramedics. I would tell you because of luck, as there were probably a dozen times I played Russian Roulette with a 38 revolver and a lone bullet. At the time I thought that nothing could kill me, and nothing or no one would ever get me to stop using drugs. I would have told you that only the good die young, and I was anything but good so I would probably live forever.

I'm Not Okay...............and I'm Okay with That!

When I first got sober, I could not stand myself. Every time that I looked into the mirror, all I could say about the guy staring back was that he was an addict, junkie, convict and a horrible person. I knew that there were so many people out there that were better than he would ever be. Because of that, my self-esteem, self-confidence and self-image were horrible.

I knew that I was not okay, and I hated that. I was not just riddled with guilt about my past, I was drowning in shame about my present. I could not see any reason that anyone would like me. I knew that I did not want to go back to prison, so I stopped doing drugs and started drinking. I stopped drugs but became an alcoholic with rage issues that measured my current happiness based on the person I was currently sleeping with.

I could still numb and escape from myself and my past, while doing something that was far more socially acceptable and main stream than the methamphetamines and opiates I had once abused. The problem was that I was trapped in my addiction still. It had just changed names. I have shifted addictions several times, from drugs/sex/money/power to alcohol and sex. From there I shifted to sobriety and food. I am still working on the comfort eating that I once relied on and have been making progress.

The real problem was accepting me not only for who I am today but for who I once was. They never told me that sobriety was not a magical cure. I would get sober, and suddenly I would be happy and content. That worked at first, but after 6 months of listening to people relive their “glory days” and tell war stories or talk about how miserable their lives were now that they were clean and sober “but still better than it used to be” I went back out. If there was no real hope for relief from my misery why would I want to clean up at all?

I had done horrible things that I could not forgive myself for. Making amends from people in my past and present was the easy part. With other people things were easy. You can lie to other people. The problem was that the man in the mirror knew the truth about me, and I could not convince that man in the mirror that I was a good person like other people I now knew.

I thought that recovery was all about building a new life, putting the past behind you and living the amazing fulfilling life that “normal” people live. It took me a while to discover that all of that was not true. Here are some things that led to me having a better outlook on my life.

1. I should never compare myself to anyone else. If I know one thing, it is that I would make a horrible anyone else. I can make the best me possible, so that is my goal. 
2. I am an addict and will always be an addict. That is not a bad thing, it just means that I cannot use drugs or alcohol responsibly and they will therefore not be used by me…..ever 
3. Life is not all rainbows and cotton candy. Life is lollipops and lemon drops. It is sweet and sour, happy and sad, positive and negative not just for you but for everyone. Whether it is the best or worst day you have ever had, it will soon pass. 
4. No one is truly okay. Everyone has problems, there is no one perfect not one. You can, however, have a perfectly normal life once you realize that life is not perfectly normal. 
5. Every one of my past mistakes or traumas has given me both wisdom and strength. I would not be who I am today if not for every single event that I have ever lived through. 
6. I embrace the positives AND the negatives. They all have led me to where I am today, and I like where I am at. It may not be where I want to be but it is many steps in the right direction from where I once was. 
7. The world is imperfect, and it leads to follow that the people in it have imperfections. I am one of those imperfect people. 

There is perfection in me. I was made to be the best possible me I can be. I have come to realize that I am shattered………………….perfectly shattered. These realizations led me to one conclusion, no one is truly okay.

Over the course of my life I have been friends with some talented people: inventors, doctors, counselors, pastors, scientists, etc. I have also been friends with some people who were well off financially: politicians, lawyers, trust fund kids, business owners, etc. I have also been friends with drug addicts, convicts, homeless people and those working for minimum wage.

 They all had some things in common. Every single one of them had days they were happy and days they were depressed. They all at times felt self-worthy and at other times lacked self-esteem. One day they might feel successful just to wake up the next day feeling like they had not lived up to their potential. In the end, no one I have ever met was perfect.

In fact, in all my life I have only read about one perfect person and it was not you. I realized that no one is okay, 24/7. I am just as imperfect as everyone else on this planet. It took me a long time to be able to say this, but here goes. I AM NOT OKAY, and I am okay with that!

What's Wrong With Faith?

How many of you stop at a green light?

I am asking that question for a reason. We will get to the reason later. That said, I am a firm believer in faith. Currently I am a Christian, and I have faith that what I believe is true. When I was an Agnostic I also had faith that what I believed was true. I had a confidence in both instances that I was right in my belief, therefore I had faith.

Unfortunately when I was agnostic I abused drugs and enjoyed hurting people. I tried multiple methods to get off of drugs: prison, jail, house arrest, counselors, psychiatrists, psychologists, prescription medication, residential treatment, outpatient treatment, scared straight, anger management even suicide. Nothing secular worked. I couldn't even be successful at killing myself!

Since  I have been a Christian, I have not used drugs nor have I been arrested. I turned my life over to Christ February 1st, 2009 at 2 A.M. and I have not smoked a cigarette, shot up, got into a fight, used drugs/alcohol nor had premarital sex since. To me that is nothing short of amazing. I used to deal dope and ruin lives, now I deal hope and share recovery to those who do not have it so that they may use my testimony to gain faith that they too can overcome their personal habits, hurts and hang-ups. My relationship with God allowed me to change. WIthout faith I was mired in addiction and crime.

Here are two examples of faith that I see in my daily life. First, I work in the substance abuse industry. Depending on the study you look at for methamphetamine, recovery occurs in only 5-10% of cases. Those odds make the idea of recovery disheartening at best, and unattainable at worst. Yet I have seen many people who in the face of these odds still have faith that they will succeed. I was in addiction and every one that I knew that tried to quit drugs always came back. Today, I have faith that those same people can and will change.

Second, I have seen on several occasions a car in front of me get t-boned going through a green light by a car running a red light. In one of those instances two people died in the accident. Many people have seen a car get hit by someone running a red light. I would further estimate that most people have at least witnessed a near miss. Therefore, we have logical proof that people run red lights.

So if I believe that people run red lights and cause injury to those who don't stop at green lights than I operate on faith every time I go through a green light without stopping. I have logical proof and material evidence that people run red lights. If I operate on logic and reason I would slow down if not stop at green lights. I assert that if we were not operating on faith, we would slam on our brakes before going through a green light.

So, how many of you stop at a green light?

Why the Police Pull Me Over and Why I Deserve It (I Want You to Do Your Job)

I know several things will happen when I see a police car behind me. I have learned that these things will happen because they have happened frequently to me. I also know that they will happen because I have friends who are police officers and I have asked them about it. When these things happen I have several choices of how to act, but I will get into those choices later. First, let us go over what will happen when I see a police officer behind me.

I can almost guarantee that I will get pulled over by the police when I see them behind me. If I do anything wrong, they are looking for it. The reason that a police officer will get behind me and look for any possible reason to pull me over is evident. I am a convicted felon, period. There is no other reason that they will try to pull me over. I know that pulling me over sounds like a no-brainer to some of you. To others it sounds like they are profiling me, or discriminating against me. We will settle that discussion later when I explain how I feel about it.

I also know that when they pull me over I will sit there for a long time while they run my license. This is not because they have slow computers in their car. The reason that they are taking so long to run my license and registration is because they are waiting for back-up to arrive. This is not because I am scary or dangerous, but because they want to search my car. That means they have one officer to keep an eye  on me and the other one to search.

I could probably get mad about knowing that these two things happening! I could, but I choose not to. I have come to realize that they are doing this for a reason. It is not because of profiling or discrimination that they have looked for  a reason to pull me over. It is because they are doing their job. If they did not try to pull me over, they would not be doing their job and I would want them fired. Let me give you an example of this in another manner.

 Imagine a fire truck loaded with fire fighters driving back from a school they have just visited. They see a house with smoke billowing out of it. Instead of doing their job and checking the house out, they simply drive right by it. How would you feel about that scenario? Would you want these men to keep their jobs? Are they even doing their jobs if they simply cruise by the apparent fire and not check it out? Of course not!

Some of you may argue that it has been 12 years since I have had any charges, so they are holding my past against me. I have earned that right. The studies have found that 87% of felons reoffend, so they are playing percentages. Imagine that you have a four year old son, and he goes missing. A block from you lives a convicted sex offender who got out of prison 12 years ago. Would you want the police to search his home? Would they be doing their job if they did not? Of course not, so they are not doing their job if they do not find a reason to search my car.

I could get mad about this, but I refuse to. The reason why I do not let this make me mad at the police is because I did it to myself. They did not invent the record that appears on their screen when they run my name. I made choices that led to charges that led to convictions. I was guilty from the word go. I am actually lucky that I only spent a year and a half in prison. I got away with a lot more than I got caught for.

I played a game for two decades of my life. If the police where better than me at the game, I got caught. If I was better than them at the game, I got away with it. I got away with a lot more than I got caught for. That said, I did get caught. I did things that I knew where illegal. At times I went to jail. When I did I played by Monopoly rules. I did not pass go, I did not collect two hundred dollars. I went directly to jail. Now, I have a career that is legal. There are still rules that I have to follow in order to keep my job. The police still have rules to follow also. When the pull me over and search my car, they are just playing their game by its rules. I have no right to get mad at them. If I should get mad at anyone, it should be at myself. I made the choices, not the police. Just wanted to share that!!!!

Spiritual Spackle and Exodus 3:2

Exodus 3:2 states, "There the angel of the LORD appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up."

I know what God wants me to do. It has been impressed upon my mind and seared into my heart. That said, I have absolutely no idea how to accomplish it. Things were a lot easier without a family, when I could just pick up and do as I pleased. Now, I have a family that I support. That makes a huge difference in how I live my life. I have responsibilities to both my family and to God. My friends say that I am doing enough, but the Holy Spirit continues to tell me that I must do more.

In every way that I can think of, I am extremely blessed. I still have problems, but they are outweighed by all that God has given me. I have lived a life that was full of addiction, loss and misery. Now, I have hope that there is so much positive that I have to look forward to. I need to repay Christ for the sacrifice that He made 2,000 years ago. That is done by following where the Spirit leads me. The question is how?

I was thinking how much I need a burning bush. I need to hear the voice of God's angel filling me in on how to accomplish what God has put in my heart. I will be done with my book, "Spiritual Spackle" by the end of April. I will hopefully have gotten the money I need to self-publish in a Kickstarter campaign that will begin in either December or January. We shot the footage for the promotional video yesterday.

I am hoping this is the first step in beginning the journey that God has laid before me. I will have the chance to share with people worldwide what the Holy Spirit has done in my life. I spent 23 years in addiction, went to prison, attempted suicide, flatlined or overdosed more times than I can count on two hands, have holes in me I was not born with and have more mental health diagnosis than you can count on one hand. I tried every secular method of recovery there was, and none succeded.

The only reprieve that I found was with the Holy Spirit. I went from misery as an Agnostic to eternal optimism as a Christian. I am to share that miraculous transformation with as many people as I possibly can, letting them know that true recovery is only possible through belief in Christ. My first step in sharing is writing the book, then my goal is to eventually speak twice a week sharing the power of Christ. I am hopeful that the Kickstarter campaign will help me get started. If not, then I may need a burning bush.

Pure Joy and Eternal Optimism in Recovery vs Self-Loathing and Depression in Addiction

There are some things that make my life pure joy. There are some reasons that I am able to remain optimistic no matter what occurs. I can be positive no matter what happens in my life, and in spite of all that has happened in my life. Things may bring me down, but they will never keep me down. I have discovered several secrets, and I will share them here with you today.

For starters, I am blessed by the things that I have been through in my past. That is both the things that happened to me and the choices that I made. I realize that some people would look at my past and be horrified by it. There is abuse while I was in 5^th and 6^th grade, 23 years of addiction, prison, suicide attempts, mental health diagnosis and car crashes/overdoses/ fights that should have killed me )I have flat-lined, so I guess they did kill me). I am thankful for them. They created the person that I am today, and I like that person a lot. I know that he has a lot to offer.

I am optimistic because I know that no matter what happens to me today, whether it takes me 5 seconds or 5 years to work through that I will work through it. I know that it will make me wiser and stronger in the process. I also know that I will work through it clean and sober, and that is the best part of it. I know that I never have to use drugs and alcohol again. How does that not keep you optimistic!

I am positive because I know why everything that has happened in my life happened. It happened so that I would have the wisdom and empathy to help those who struggle with the issues that I used to struggle with. I can empower people to make better choices because I have had struggles in my past that I learned from. Today I am equipped to overcome my struggles, and that gave me the wisdom that I have to pass on to others! I will never be beaten down again. I am not who I once was, I am victorious and equipped to stay that way. Life is great, and I'm eating it up!!

The thing is, the longer that I live my life sober the more I owe back to those who are still in their addictions. I have an ability to use the negatives from my past as positives in the lives of other people today. I can help save lifes and in turn allow people to become who they were created to be: great not good, sober not drunk, clean not high, happy not depressed.

So I ask you, why should your life not be full of joy. The Bible says it best in Psalms 118, “For this is the day the Lord has made; I shall rejoice and be glad in it!” We will have ups and downs, but we never have to do anything alone if we are in relationship with Christ! We have supports, whether it is your faith in Christ or your 12 step recovery group. Use them, and then spread recovery to others.
After all, "I can do all things through He who strengthens me." All of this is what keeps my head up and a bounce in my step!!

Why I Got my Masters Degree in Social Work

I had my mind made up, and I had finally figured out what I wanted to do for grad school. I was a double major in psychology and sociology who had taken a few classes in criminology. I wanted to work with at-risk adolescents and young adults, especially those who were substance abusers or had been physically abused. To do this, I was sure that I needed to get into a good clinical psychology program. At least, that was how I felt until I talked to one of my psychology professors. I told her what I wanted to do after I graduated and my professor steered me towards the social work program. She told me that she thought it might be a better fit for me because of what my career aspirations were. When I had a chance, I went and talked to an advisor in the social work department. I left knowing that social work would open up more doors for me to do the work I feel I was shaped to do.

I have not lived the picture perfect life. I have spent two years, starting at the age of eleven, living with a physically abusive grandpa. I got a three year sentence for breaking and entering, and turned twenty-one in the Booneville Correctional Center. From there I graduated to manufacturing, selling, and being addicted to methamphetamines. I do not say this to brag, it is just the story of my life. Some people deer hunt and fish, I was addicted to drugs.

I admit to this because it made me who I am today. I have been through a twenty-eight day rehabilitation center, the Sigma House, one time. I am now seven years clean, and it has been thirteen years since I got out of prison. When I was a teenager I was not allowed in my own mother’s house unless she was there. Now I have a key and an open invitation from her to come by any time I want. I now have healthy relationships; the kind I never knew existed. I have overcome a lot in my life, and I feel that I made it through the things that I did so that I could help others through their hard times. To show them that they can have major problems in their lives and overcome them, because they are talking to someone who has.

I was molded by my life choices, the good ones and the bad ones, to be a social worker. As a kid in the legal system, I played the games my lawyer told me to play. I did the things the judge and my probation officer wanted me to do. Most delinquents are not seriously interested in changing their lives, but are also only playing games. I can accept that, because at one time I was that person who will one day be standing in front of me. I know the things that eventually helped me, and I know that it was not an overnight success story. I know not to get discouraged when I fail, because it is my experience that most addicts will not make it their first or second time, and many will not make it at all. After being involved in Narcotics Anonymous for the last seven years, I have seen many failures. But I have also seen success stories. An addict will only quit when he or she is ready. I want to plant the seed in people that will someday hopefully bloom into full recovery from substance abuse.

Unfortunately, we don’t try hard enough to help those who need help. I feel that alcohol and substance abuse rehabilitation, as well as intensive counseling, should be readily available to all probation/parole cases, as well as to all people institutionalized. I never really had the chance to work on my problems in prison. While I was incarcerated, prison did not seem like it had any rehabilitative agenda, but instead was only involved with punishment. I do not feel that this is conducive to helping offenders become contributing members of society. If anything, it leaves them no where to turn but back to what they have always done. More needs to be done, and one of the solutions may be drug courts.

I wrote my senior thesis in Sociology on the drug court system. After writing the thesis I became a firm believer in the drug court system that is offered by some courts as an alternative to incarceration. I feel that they have a greater positive impact on the lives of those who go through the program than prison would have had on them. If we can only get people who are better trained and non-judgmental to work with those who are going through drug courts. I think is a great idea in its infancy that needs a little tweaking here and there to make it the rehabilitative powerhouse it could eventually be. That is one of the reasons that graduate school appeals to me, because I will be able to try to make the system work better.

I realize that graduate school will not be easy. I expect it to be somewhat difficult, but it is what I feel I was meant to do. I thought college would be difficult after nearly destroying both my body and my brain cells for years, but I have worked full-time and still maintained a 3.78 GPA after putting five years into college and attaining two Bachelor degrees. I even found time to talk to classes about my past life and experiences. I have talked to both criminology and sociology classes every semester since my second semester here about my personal experiences with physical abuse, substance abuse and my road to recovery. Finally, I am also involved in several honors and service work fraternities, including being the VP of Mentoring and one of the founding members of the MSU Chapter of the Sigma Alpha Lambda National Leadership and Honors Organization. I have had quite a few things on my plate, and still succeeded.

That is what I feel I bring to the Social Work program. When I was in Sigma House going through rehabilitation, one of the night technicians named Jay and I had a major conversation. I told him that I just did not feel ready to stop doing drugs, and he told me that maybe I wasn’t. He got my Alcoholics Anonymous book and wrote his name and number down. He went on to repeat the mantra that I have found to be true from those around me. “There are only three things that addiction leads to prison, institutions and death.” Jay said that he hoped I would decide to stop doing drugs before it landed me in prison or in a casket. He told me to call him when I was finally ready to get clean. When I finally cleaned up two years later, he was there for me, and we are good friends to this day. I want to give back to others what was freely given to me, namely a listening ear, empathy, acceptance and some good advice.

Still on vacation... I want to love like that/Praise you in this Storm

My son is still surprising me every day on this vacation. He walked all day long once again today. This is the same son who cannot walk from the car to the tram at Silver Dollar City. He walked today from 10:30 - 7 at Walt Disney's Hollywood Studios. Two straight days of walking, running and jumping when he generally just perches on my shoulders.

He asked all of the time for me to bend down, just like he does when he wants to be picked up. The awesome part was, when I would bend down he would give me a kiss and keep walking. He loves me with his whole heart, and that heart is huge.
This vacation has been great, and I have been awed by his affection.

Do not get me wrong, his love overwhelms me often. Everytime that he sees me, when I drop him off at daycare and when I tuck him in at night he gives hugs and kisses and lets me know that he loves me. He even acts that way when I put him in timeout after he gets out of the corner. That is love.

I want to rely on God like my son does me. I want to love Christ the way my son loves me. Don't get me wrong, I try to love God with all that I have and all that I am. I feel that I could do a better job, and my son has shown me what unconditional means.

My son has me there to pick him up when he feels that he cannot make it on his own. He gets tired, and he is confident that all he has to do is look at me and put his arms up and I will swoop down and pop him up on my shoulders, making his day easier.

I know that all I have to do is turn things over to God when they get to overwhelm me. I know it, but it is sometimes hard to do. I pray for his will to be done, but I sometimes forget that his will and mine are not always the same. If I do what He wants me to, I find that my life is easier. When I try to do His will, he pops me up on His shoulders and insures that I suceed. But I sometimes forget to do that.

My son shows me that he loves me no matter what. If he is having fun or in trouble, if it is just me or it is in front of his friends he is unafraid to show me how much he loves me. He will scream "I love you whole wide world" across his daycare with it full of kids.

I want to continue building my relationship with Christ to the point that I am unafraid to vocally claim my love. I will be unafraid to pray no matter who is around. I will tell others of the changes that the Holy Spirit has wrought in me regardless of who might judge me. I will raise my hands in worship no matter who is next to me or watching, even if I am the only one in the room who worships that way.

I spent my whole life in agony denying there was a God. I will spend the rest of my life in love with the force that recreated me and gave me a life that I can be proud of. I will praise God in the peaks and valleys, the feasts and the famines, the sunny days and in the storms. I know how miserable my life was without Christ, and I know how blessed I am now with Christ.

My Testimony Part I - How It Begins

I am a believer in Jesus Christ who has been blessed with many trials and tribulations to work through, among them are chemical dependency, anger, criminal behavior, codependency, physical and emotional abuse, an adult child of family dysfunction and sexual addiction. With all of that going on you can believe I have some financial issues, too. I guess you could say that as I was younger I was an overachiever. My mother made predictions for me, such as, “you are going to be an alcoholic just like your dad and go to jail just like your brother.” I always tried to outdo her expectations, as you will see later. I wish that I could blame my beginning, but it was a pretty common start. My father and mother were on again and off again, but not when it came to their belief in God and Christ. I was brought up a Christian, and was up in front of the Church giving sermons by the 4th grade. My parents did not smoke cigarettes, nor did they use bad language. By the church's viewpoint we were the model Christian family. Three children, a collie, Church three times a week, a house on a double lot and the children and their father playing outside with each other on the weekends. Sadly, all was not as it seemed. My father worked 12 hour days at Caterpillar, and when he got home he drank in the garage. He still played with us kids and never was violent (although there were times my mother would hit my dad repeatedly and he would just stand there and take it), but eventually my mother had enough. She left him my first week of 5th grade without telling him where we went, and we did not see him for six months.

My mother sent us to live with her mother and father while she worked two jobs to get us a place of our own. This is where the story goes south, in my opinion. My grandfather was an abusive man, he would beat us to the point that he would not let us go to school for a week at a time. His combination of farmer and lots of money meant that when we missed school he said we were helping on the farm and he got away with it. We never said anything to our mother or the school because our grandpa threatened to kill my sister if we did and we believed him. After all, he shot at our uncle and got away with it. I began to fight a lot in the 5th grade, I would get beat at home and come to school and take it out on whomever. I guess that I have always fought since moving in with my grandfather and liked the pain; I guess that I figured I was to blame for my mom and dad splitting up and that was my penance. I also figured out that if I laughed while my grandfather switched me the beating would intensify and he would wear himself out and my brother would not get beat that day.

At a very young age I had managed to develop some severe anger and masochistic issues. I felt abandoned by God, and I stopped believing in him. Why believe in someone who was not there for me. My mother got a place of our own for us in the 6th grade, and she was smoking cigarettes by this time. I started to smoke too. It began with stealing her cigarettes and ended up my buying them off of other kids at school.

In the 7th grade my father got custody of me. He had not drunk in two years and had begun his own business that was doing well, but he worked overnights. I was quickly on the prowl late night, hanging out at the square and doing random acts of vandalism. I was a quick bloomer, the first weekend I got drunk was the first time that I smoked marijuana, did a line of cocaine, tripped acid, kissed a girl and managed to lose my virginity. From there it was all out. I began to hang out all night. My father tried to ground me for a week, and I came back a month later. It was the last time that he grounded me. He ended up getting remarried and we moved again, but it was more of the same; a lot of THC, alcohol, mini-thins, fighting and promiscuity.

I did not like my new stepmom, and I moved back to my mother’s for my senior year of high school. I was quickly in trouble with the law. I went to jail more times than I can remember for fighting, burglary and breaking and entering. I got into the world of methamphetamine, and soon after my world began to crumble. I was on probation and had numerous violations, and yet they never revoked my probation. They tried scared straight, county jail sentences and house arrest all to no avail. I actually liked county jail; I could catch up on my sleep and not worry about having to watch my back all the time. Finally I did not report to my PO for about 6 months. I had decided to take off and travel around the country without telling him. When I got tired of running I went to see him and told him I was ready for prison. He did not disappoint me, I was 20 and on my way to prison.

It was a long time coming, and I guess I saw it as inevitable. Some people have great stories about their 21st birthday. Mine sucked, I was in Booneville and it was a prison camp for kids 25 and under. It was nonstop fighting, and I learned how to be a better criminal. I also ended up getting my GED while I was at Booneville, which was the only positive thing that happened. I found God, but only to look good to the parole board. I got released to a party house when I paroled out. I was drunk an hour after I got out. I was high, spun and with a girl by the end of my first night out. How I managed to walk down my parole I will never know. I found out that manufacturing could get me more money, more dope and more girls and I was in. To make myself feel better I did good things with my money, like giving to charities and helping friends who did not do drugs pay their bills and raise their families. I cut the methamphetamine with a vitamin B complex powder because it was healthier than what everyone else used. I was making a lot of excuses to make myself feel better for what I was doing.

A year after I got out of prison I drove a car off an embankment drunk. Flew may be a better definition. I took a Firebird off a giant hill and flew 96 feet and was 32 feet in the air. I spent a considerable amount of time in the hospital and came out addicted to opiates. I was using IV by this time, as any other way was a waste in my opinion. Soon after I got arrested in Texarkana for possession with intent to distribute a week before my parole was up. I got off of parole just in time to get back on probation. My drug use by this time was getting ridiculous. I was using more and more meth to keep up with the amount of morphine I was using. I was staying awake for a week at a time, sleeping only on Sundays. I was working for most of the time as a bartender. It was an easy way to keep my PO happy and still sell a lot of drugs. I could always stop using a couple of days before I saw my PO, until the very end.

It got so bad that in 2000 I used an hour before I went to see my PO. When I walked into her office, she asked me a question that I did not want to hear. She asked me if I had been doing drugs. I went ahead and told her the truth. I was on meth, cocaine, opiates and benzodiazepines. She told me because I was honest she would give me a chance, and I turned 28 in a residential substance abuse treatment facility a few weeks later. I completed it successfully and got out ready to show the world they were wrong. I quickly needed money and got sucked right back into the scene. I thought I would just put together a batch, but my use and my quality of life started back up worse than before I had quit. My first use ended with me not sleeping for a few days shy of a month. I used for the next year, and I went through the worst times of my life. I was shot at and shot back at people, came within 5 seconds of shooting a police officer, watched a few friends die from overdoses, overdosed a few times myself, saw a few friends get 25 years in prison or more, was either raided or at places that were several times, beat up several friends and almost killed a few people. I no longer cared about anything or anyone, not even myself. I loved drugs, I loved they way that they made me feel but I hated the person that they turned me into. I had a death wish, and I would put myself in life or death situations because I truly wanted to die.

After an overdose and a really bad drug deal where one of my partners got shot I was emotionally, spiritually and physically exhausted. To steal a 12 Step slogan, I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I went to my sister's house, which was my life line to sanity. She had never done drugs or even smoked a cigarette and actually had a legal job. She was the only person that I considered sane and safe left in my life. She was the only person in my life who I knew truly loved me for me and not for what I could get or do for them I told her that I wanted to get out and had no idea how. She told me she could make it easier for me. I asked her how, and her reply was, I want you to leave and get clean or I do not want to see you again. I cannot watch you kill yourself anymore.