In many cases, inspirational stories are told by people who had less than ideal childhoods. I’m not one of those, but I hope my story will be inspirational none the less. I grew up a military brat, and I wouldn’t say that I was spoiled, but I never found myself wanting. Looking back I realize there was something I wanted but never seemed to get, and that was parents that were around a little more. I was the stereotypical “Latchkey Kid,” and more often than not I found myself on my own. Both my parents worked and even though my dad was station at a base overseas, we always had a home outside of the base. This of course made it difficult to make friends when the majority of all the other kids lived in base housing with their parents. As lonely as things could be for me, my over active imagination more than made up for it.
Something I didn’t get when I was a kid was religion, of any kind. It was a long time before I had any concept of God and heaven, and I still remember the first time I received any explanation. Having no concept of God and heaven was directly related to having no concept of death. I’m not sure what triggered my thought process, but what I do know is one night lying in bed I found myself having a difficult time to breathe and there was an overwhelming sense of fear inside me. I was having a panic attack because a light-bulb had gone on letting me know I would die. Unfortunately not having any concept of God I simply thought everything would end. The lights would go out and I would no longer exist. The idea of everything just stopping was scarier than anything I had ever imagined. My mom came to my rescue, and told me that it would all be okay. As long as I was a good person I would go to a place called heaven with God and Angels and everyone else I love and care about. It took a while for this idea to sink in, but it made me feel better. Somehow I knew she wasn’t lying, and all I’d have to do was be a good person. The tragedy of it was it would be the last time in my childhood I would ever hear anything about God.
Time went on, and I began to grow up. As a family we never went to Church. The only time prayer came up was when we would visit family on my dads side and we’d pray before a meal. Never having done this in my life, I always found it a nuisance…why wait for someone to say thanks to someone I’d never met or seen, the foods gonna get cold. To make matters worse the two times I did manage to step foot in a Church was for funerals of Great Grand Parents. This later became a bragging point for me amongst friends. “I’ve only been to Church twice, and both times it was for a funeral. Beat that.” Even then I wasn’t sure why I was so proud of that fact, but what I came to think was the Christian kids were nerds and organized religion is a horrible thing that simply promotes racism and hate. I had been convinced that the way I lived my life was better than most people who went to Church. After all, I always remembered that my mom had said I’d go to heaven if I were a good person, so its all I needed to do.
I have always strived to be a good person. Always trying to help others and never being racist or prejudice, even to the Christians I thought were cheesy. I did everything I could to treat everyone with respect and kindness, but my where I failed was in the area who I was living my life for. That person was of course me. I went off to culinary school where I learned to drink, the benefits of having a room mate old enough to buy liquor. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was filling a void. Sure when I was at work or at school I had a purpose…to work hard and get good grades, but when I was at home there was an emptiness that was easier to hide behind a bottle than to figure out. About half way through the program I decided to drop out. I just didn’t want to be a chef anymore. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I moved back home. The problem, home wasn’t the same as it was when I left.
My parents had always had arguments, but being back something was different when I came back. It didn’t feel right at all, and I spent as much time as possible immersing myself in work so I didn’t have to be at home. Before I knew it my parents were getting a divorce. Now in my 20s I didn’t feel much of an effect, or at least thats what I thought. At least they are doing this now and not when I was younger, but it did effect me. Immediately I was faced with the choice of whether or not to move into my own apartment there in Texas or to move back to Arizona where I had gone to culinary school. Arizona is what I decided on. Its true that there were many more opportunities for me in the big city than in small town Texas, but it was the access to booze that really sealed the deal.
Before I had even gotten settled back in with my old roommate I was hitting the bottle. Luckily for me, there was a girl in the picture that prevented me from becoming a full blown alcoholic. When she was around the void I was trying to fill with liquor didn’t seem so big, and I eventually stopped drinking. It wasn’t long before we got married and life was good. For a while at least.
As time went on, the void returned, and I realized it was because I didn’t know what to do with my life. I had goals, and even went back to school. This time I graduated at the top of my class, and I had a career goal, and while trying to pursue it I felt better. Like there was finally purpose in my life. Unfortunately I could still only think about myself and what my goals would bring for me, and think was all I could do because I wasn’t able to find work. Financial troubles forced my wife and I to move in with some friends, so it was back to Texas. Things began to look up again, I landed a job in my career field, but my wife and I’s relationship wasn’t on solid ground. The financial troubles were taking there toll, and then my mother-in-law was forced to stay with us.
I again found myself spending an unbelievable time at work to avoid coming home. This only made my marriage worse, and eventually led to a relationship with a co-worker that would become dangerously friendly. Things happened that I wish I could erase from history, but my wife and I worked through it.
Nearly a year of taking care of my mother-in-law, and she was finally heading home. My wife and I began to have a better than ever relationship, but financial issues again got in the way. We eventually had to sell everything, and ended up back in Arizona yet again this time with my mom. Everything started well, but we were apparently overstaying our welcome and jumped into a lifestyle well above our means before we were ready to. It seemed like everywhere I turned there was bad luck. I couldn’t catch a break. I began to wonder where was God in all of this. I was a good person I helped people I did my best to work hard. Why couldn’t he give me a break? However, that was the extent of my exchange with God. I would blame him for continuously beating me down just when I was getting somewhere, and before long I began to despise him. This led me to the conclusion I would do things my way and I didn’t need him or anyone. Of course when you’re angry you usually make quick decisions that aren’t always well thought out, and my wife and I decided to take what little money we had, pack up the car and head up to Portland Oregon. Some place we’ve always wanted to go and some place we had no contacts, friends, family and more importantly jobs.
We had just enough money for a few days in a hotel, and we scrambled around town trying to get any kind of job we could. It wasn’t surprising that we didn’t get any responses before it was time to say goodbye to the hotel room for the last time. My wife stood in the center of the room with tears of fear and hopelessness just before we left, and it took all I had to lie to her as I held her. “Everything is going to be okay” I said to her, but even I didn’t believe it. I managed to pawn a camera I had to put some more gas in the car, and we headed to a rest stop just south of town. I thought for sure we would be living there out of our car for the next several weeks, but something unexpected happened. An old friend of my wife’s called us and said we could stay with them in Salem until we got back on our feet.
Unfortunately our luck in Salem wasn’t much better, and what work I could get was very temporary, and before long we were overstaying our welcome. I had come to the realization that I wanted nothing more than to just have a simple life. A place of our own, a car that didn’t get repossessed, and a steady job. Later I would decide that I should have never quit the job I had in Texas as a News Photographer, and would do anything to do that again. Sadly there isn’t a single news station in Salem. I began to wonder what I had done that deserved such bad luck and/or punishment from God. How had I wronged him that would justify such treatment? What I didn’t realize was, it wasn’t what I had done, but what I hadn’t. He had always been with me even helping me along by keeping a roof over my head, but I chose to neglect him. I chose to neglect religion as a whole. Sure I believed in being a good person getting me to heaven, but that was the extent of it.
Just as we were again faced with homelessness, we were given another helping hand. This time from a couple who had been a long time family friend of my wife. They barely knew her, and wouldn’t know me from a stranger on the street, but they were willing to take us in. Put a roof on our head and food in our stomach till we could get things straightened out. The only thing nicer than that was finding out that Eugene Oregon, where they lived, had three news stations. Surely I’d be able to get a job at one of them with my experience.
I vigorously began applying at each station delivering multiple resumes and demo tapes to each station. On top of that I was applying at every and any place with a now hiring sign. Unfortunately it seemed like nearly everyone else was too. In the past I’ve never been without work, but ever since the economic downfall things have gotten more and more difficult, not to mention the approaching holidays. Thoughts resumed as usual. Why? I’m a good person? When will I catch my break?
Christmas came along, and my dad had let us know he was sending us a package. Over the last couple of years he has been working on his own relationship with the Lord, and has been subtly trying to feed the idea of religion to me. I usually found myself laughing it all off. A running joke was I bet we’re going to get a copy of the Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren, since that was a common reference my dad used. My wife and I even joked that this christmas we would get matching bibles or something, and we were partly right. We opened our christmas package to find two copies of the Signature Bible, and a Special Edition DVD of Facing the Giants. Movies have been a common ground for my dad and I to bond.
That night I watched Facing the Giants with Courtney and found it difficult not to laugh. I still wasn’t buying all of the Christian stuff. I’m a good person. Surely that’s enough. As funny as I thought the movie was I found myself completely impressed by the fact it was made almost entirely by amateurs. We continued to joke about the Signature Bibles, but something happened in my head. I don’t know how to explain it, but after the joking had subsided I began to get curious. I decided to give it a shot. I figured if it got to be too cheesy for me I’d just skim through it enough to make my dad think I was working through it. What I didn’t expect was how much I began to enjoy it. After the 3rd day or so I realized it was covering a lot of the things I was already thinking. Almost as if it was written specifically for me. I wasn’t sure what to make of it all, and when the couple we were staying with invited us to go to church with them on the first Sunday of the new year I thought why not. Maybe there is something to this after all. I almost couldn’t believe what was going through my head. It wasn’t me. I didn’t believe in the church thing or being Christian, but there I was looking forward to going to Church for the first time in my life.
Within five minutes of being there a gentleman introduced himself to me. We chatted for a while, and when the topic of my recent job search had come up he asked what kind of work I was looking for. When I said work in a news station, he added that he had been working for a local station for several years. My jaw literally dropped. I couldn’t believe it. Its been over a month of futile attempts to talk with someone at a station, and here in front of me, at church, was someone from one of the stations who had unknowingly introduced himself. I almost had a hard time working through all the feelings rushing through my head after he asked for my information. I couldn’t deny it any longer, there had to be something to this.
There was no way that was a coincidence.
God spoke to me that day. He had been trying to get me to listen all my life by providing me with everything I could ever need, and I consistently threw it back at him by only focusing on myself. That first day in Church was a simple message that said this to me: If you stop living your life for yourself and start living it in a way that serves me, then I’ll give you the blessing you need to get things going again.
I’ve decided to stop living my life for me. I don’t know specifically what god has planned for me, or what he fully expects of me, but what I do know is never again will I take him for granted. I will do everything in my power to serve him in the best way that I can. To live my life in a way that would please him, because I know he’s there for me, and because I want to be with him in eternity.
I have a long journey ahead of me, with lots to learn (I’ve only begun to read a bible for the first time in my life), and lots of bad habits to break, but as I go along I hope to share with all the readers of this blog my experiences, and hope that maybe, even if its only one person, I can help someone with their own struggle in all of this. And maybe as I go along there will be people that can answer some of my questions that will benefit not just myself, but other too.