Life's Defining Moments

It has taken me many years and most of the world to understand who I am and my purpose in life. I have learned about love and hate and faith. I have learned about mistakes and the price of the choices we make. My life, like so many others, has had its pivotal moments and experiences that changed me forever. It was in these defining moments that I became the man I am today. I learned that your heart usually guides you more wisely than your head, so that’s what I began to follow. I was a hard man that stood fast and stared the world in the eye, but inside I was something very different.

Over the past two years I have traveled the globe and, in a way, brought you all with me through my journals. I have shared with you my thoughts, experiences and personal beliefs. My writings have opened me up, broken down walls, and aloud me to share feelings and thoughts that I would normally hold back. On numerous occasions, I’ve received e-mails from people I’ve never met, who just happened across my journals. Some read just one entry and others have read from start to finish. I’ve been asked many questions about my travels, but there have also been many questions about my faith. Unlike many who write on-line travel journals, I feel compelled to discuss my faith. I’d definitely not planned on doing so, but it just turned out that way. Recently, a girl contacted me and asked if I would share with her how it was I became a Christian and if there was a defining moment in my life that strengthened my faith or did it just grow over time. I responded back with a brief overview of what has led me to where I am today and she in turn, shared her story. It felt good to share how God has worked in my life and also hear how he has worked in others lives. During my first trip to Kenya, I stood in front of a group of villagers and fellow missionaries, and gave my testimony. I was very nervous standing there in front of those inquiring eyes, but at the same time, very moved to share my story. Now, I know my life has been no where near as tough as most peoples, but still, the influence of God’s hand can be seen never-the-less. When I told my story in front of the villagers, I simply gave a brief overview of how I got to where I am today, but did not go into the details of the whole story. Actually, I’ve only shared with a small hand full of people in my life the full story. There was a defining moment for me that’s a hard one to fully explain and hope that people will believe. So, I’ve finally decided to put it out there for everyone to hear, because many of you probably wonder how I went from where I was just a few years ago to where I am today. Before I just jump straight into it, I would like to share with you a brief overview of my life and what events influenced and shaped me. It’s something that I feel I need to tell because my eyes were opened and I haven’t seen the same ever since…so this is my story.

When I was a kid my younger brother and I would spend countless hours wandering throughout the four hundred plus acres of farmland that our neighbors owned. We were fortunate to have been raised on a vast country playground that most children only imagined in dreams. Our youth consisted of fairy tale adventures in the forest behind our log cabin. Pretending to be great explorers, we made our way through uncharted territory, and fought fierce battles with make-believe beasts. Ever since I can remember, I dreamed of continuing my exploration beyond the confines of the Tennessee hills that surrounded us. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized that it was not as easy as I imagined.

I grew up in a Christian family and can’t honestly recall ever not believing in God. My parents taught my brother and me the Bible and worked to instill those core Christian values into our lives. We attended a private Christian school from Elementary on through Middle. We lived good little Christian lives and were kept somewhat sheltered from the busy city life. My brother and I were fairly good kids and didn’t get into too much trouble, besides constantly fighting with each other. My mother and father were both Young Life leaders in their college days (that’s how they met) and continued to put God at the center of their lives. My mom became a physical education teacher and my father started up a construction company. My dad had gone through seminary school, but chose a different path soon after. My mother always excels in everything that she does and teaching was no exception. She put her heart into work and motivated every child she taught. Her energy wasn’t exhausted there, oh no, she had plenty left over to cart my brother and me around to soccer, swimming and gymnastics practice…almost everyday of the week. Life was good and got much better. Soon my father’s business started growing like wild fire. At that time, our family was what you would consider to be rather wealthy. We had a nice log cabin in the country, more toys to play with than kids should (four-wheelers, a motorcycle, bicycles, etc.), nice cars, a boat, and many more of life’s luxuries. We owned numerous rental properties, restaurants, and bars in an up-and-coming part of town and life kept getting better.

After several summers had past, I finally reached high school, and I was soon thrown into a world that I was not yet accustomed to - public school. I had been around the same fifteen to twenty kids for the past eight years and now I had more than that in one classroom. I didn’t know one single person and suddenly I was way out of my comfort zone trying to find my place. There were so many different personalities, clicks, groups and sports teams to choose from and I was suddenly scared for the first time in my life. I had had fears before, but this was a whole new monster. I had never been picked on before in my life and now suddenly there were older guys being complete jerks to me for no reason whatsoever, except to feel cool or perhaps even powerful when they did not feel powerful inside. On my first day of school, some young punks in my homeroom got into my backpack when I was in the restroom and stole all of my money. I was shocked. I had never experienced this type of treatment before and I was really nervous. I soon turned this fear into anger, but kept it all balled up inside. I started to change from this friendly person I once was to someone who didn’t like people, until they’d proved they were someone I could trust. Soon, I wasn’t smiling like I used to, but rather kept a tough look across my face to let people know not to mess with me. Not everything was bad though. I did have sports going for me, so that is what I focused on.

I was athletic and had been playing sports my entire life. I soon found my place as a jock/cool guy and had a great group of friends to hang around. I vented my aggressions out on the playing field and used it to make me a tougher competitor. Everything started getting better--especially after puberty kicked in and added some height and muscle to my adolescent frame. My junior year I progressed in age and size and no one was messing with me. I was now one of the upper classmen and it felt good. This is when that fear that had turned to anger, turned to pride. I wanted to show all those who had looked down on me before that I was better than them now. That I had made it--I was popular.

When one gets older and looks back over their teenage life, they realize how silly, immature and ignorant they were. Most of the stupid things they did were, in most part, a result of the pressures pushed upon them by their environment. The adolescent world is harsh and unforgiving. Mine was actually very easy compared to many others. I had sports and a popular group of friends. I can’t imagine being in the shoes of so many others that I knew. I look back and wish that I treated them better; the way I desired to be treated. I wasn’t terrible, but I didn’t make any effort to make others feel accepted. I only cared about myself and my core group of friends. I was selfish and cocky and blind of my own stupidity. One thing is apparent to me now: no one is as cool or as fearless as they appear to be. In those teenage years we were all scared, all influenced in some way by peer pressure, and we all simply wanted to fit in, wanted to be liked.

My life at school was now on track and going good, but my life at home had taken a turn for the worse. My father had become a very popular guy due to the various venues that he owned. He was in the spotlight and partying hard with his new group of friends. He now owned numerous bars and restaurants, had loads of money and all the alcohol he could want for free. Now, to set things straight, my father wasn’t a bad person by any means; he is actually the most generous person I know. The Devil simply found his weakness, snared him in it, and tightened down. Alcoholism took over my father and turned our family’s life upside down. He had been drinking for a while, but it started to get really bad during the latter part of my high school years. This isn’t news to most of you. My friends were all aware of it, but not many know the extent of it. I will keep the turmoil within my family private, but simply say that it was a very difficult time for all of us. My father was never an angry drunk. He was actually quite funny most of the time. The problem was, it controlled him and kept getting worse. It got to where he couldn’t go anywhere or be around anyone unless he was intoxicated. He started being absent to a lot of family functions, coming home in the middle of the night dead drunk, and didn’t pay close attention to his business affairs. I remember lying in bed many nights listening to my parents argue. I would lie there and pray that my little brother couldn’t hear. By the beginning of my senior year in high school, my parents were divorced, my brother and I both lived with my mother, my father had been ripped off by a number of his business partners, we had a fire at our house and no insurance to cover it, we moved to a small apartment in the city, and tried to carry on in a life that had been turned inside out.

I didn’t realize at the time how much it had affected my brother and me, but boy had it ever. I was sneaking out in the middle of the night, drinking (just a little at the time), raising hell in the neighborhoods, and losing my temper all of the time; especially in sports. I got myself thrown out of a few games, was terribly mean to anyone who crossed me wrong, and wanted to fight anyone who had a problem with me. This carried over into college, but now the drinking got worse and as a result the fighting got much worse. I never really started any fights, but if anyone pushed my pride, I was fighting without hesitation. It also had something to do with the fact that I was running around with a big group of my buddies who were drunk as well; I can’t take all of the blame. Then the drinking led to drug use, but I never let that get out of control. I wasn’t an alcoholic and drugs just weren’t my thing. I dabbled in it a bit, but just had no liking for it. My thing was binge drinking and acting like a crazy fool. I loved to party and be the center of attention (there’s that pride thing again); especially if there were pretty girls around and there always were. Even though I was acting like most college kids and partying way too much, I didn’t let my studies slip. I probably could have done a little better and paid a little more attention, but I still did pretty decent for as much as I was partying.

During my college years my father got much worse and lost a lot more of his business. He felt so terrible for what he had done to our family that he could barely take it. He just drank more to dull the pain and escape into a world far removed from the reality of his life. My father still loved my mother more than anything in the world and she still loved him in return, but she knew that she couldn’t be with him. Now, don’t think that my mother gave up on him so easily. She fought for him for many years. I will leave out the details for my family’s sake, but she definitely stayed around longer than most would. There was never any hostility from father though, if that’s what you’re thinking. He never lifted a hand. He just simply turned his back. He had become blinded and dulled by the alcohol. It controlled him and his entire life.

Our family had now gone from being happy and very well off financially, to borderline poor, angry and depressed. Now, depression has never been my thing personally. My anger has always been able to cover up or take over most of my feelings. It is definitely my biggest flaw, which of course feeds off of my stupid pride. My real nature was now concealed by a mask of hostility. The message of my face read “don’t **** with me!” In the end, the whole of my life became this message. I still to this day battle with it and pray that God will strip it from me. I have been angry for so long at other people and myself, that I have trouble escaping it. I have a hard time trusting people, because I’ve seen how back stabbing people can be. My father is one of the nicest and most honest people I know and when he was down those many years, people took advantage, double crossed and stole from him and our family. I really have a hard time trusting people now unless I have known them for a long time. That is why I come off unfriendly at times; because I need to get to know someone first before I open my doors, although, I have been getting better over the years.

I can’t honestly say I regret all that I did in my younger years. My friends and I had some great times and there are some amazing memories that I’ll never forget. I’m just using this as a sort of a testimonial/confessional, so I’m just hitting on the low points of my life. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had an incredible life, two awesome parents, a brother for a punching bag (sorry Zac), a young childhood in the country that most kids couldn’t even dream of, great friends, amazing girlfriends and people that were there to catch me if I fell. Even though my love life did drive me crazy at times, I was blessed with some pretty wonderful relationships…that I completely blew! The good thing is, I am still close friends with most of my ex’s, and I couldn’t be luckier. Plus, that great group of friends I met in high school is still together like family. We all laughed and played together through the good times and pulled each other up through the tough times and never once let anyone fall. So, I can definitely say that my life has many more good times than bad times - exponentially!

After college, I did tend to slow things down a bit, but I still drank pretty much every weekend. I had made it through school, gotten a good job, was making decent money and everything was supposed to be smooth sailing from there on out. Well, that wasn’t the case. I wasn’t happy in my job, I wasn’t happy in my love life, and I just couldn’t figure things out. I had never really had one main goal for my life or a career that I knew was for me. I just picked a business degree in college and went with it. I always thought: go to school, get a degree, land a good and secure job, make lots of money, marry a super model and live happily ever after…with the American dream…the end. Well, it doesn’t quite go like that and I’m glad that I finally realized it.

As for my religious life…well, it wasn’t too spectacular. I got baptized during middle school in the Holston River by Dr. Ken Boa and in high school I attended every Young Life event possible, but church was never my thing. It never could hold my attention. I got so bored and just couldn’t sit still, especially on those hard pews. I felt like it was a punishment; that it was the hell that they kept referring to. So, when I grew older, I opted to not to go, except on special occasions. But, one of the main reasons for my absence was that Sunday landed right after Saturday, and that was my big party night, therefore, I chose to go with the earthly pleasures over the godly. Then in 2003, everything changed.

I’d matured a lot, but still not quite enough. I still drank on the weekends and didn’t go to church, but I did start thinking about God a little more. I’d never stopped believing in Him, I’d just simply pushed Him off to the side and didn’t think much on the subject. It got in the way of what I enjoyed doing. It pointed a finger at how I was living and said it was wrong. But, God has a way of knocking at that door and letting you know that He is still there.

As for my family life, well, things were still the same. My dad continued to drink hard and I had mentally prepared myself for that call that said he had died. My mother still spoke to my father on a regular basis and they remained good friends. My brother Zac was living on a sail boat in the San Diego Bay right beside my father’s boat. Zac always stuck beside my dad from high school on. He was the one who looked out for him and the one who was probably affected by his condition the most. I was always on good terms with my father, but at the same time, angry. I received a call one day from my mother and she informed me that they had found my father passed out in a ditch along the road. He had been drinking liquor heavily and had collapsed just outside a bar. The doctors at the hospital said that he should’ve been dead from the amount of alcohol that was in his system. I just knew that the end was near. His body just couldn’t take anymore. I didn’t speak with my dad for a while, until he came to visit me after I’d bought my new condo. When I saw my father for the first time in a long while, I knew something was different. He wasn’t drunk and he didn’t bring any alcohol with him. And then he said to me, “Son, I’ve got to tell you a story.”…and my life hasn’t been the same ever since.

First you must know that ever since my parents divorced, my father prayed for God to heal him of his alcoholism. He had been to countless AA meetings and rehab clinics, but nothing helped. He continued to pray though. For months my father went down to the ocean to sit and pray and read his Bible. My mother also prayed for my father ever single day. She knew he was a good man trapped by an awful disease, and that only God could cure him. My father finally broke down and called his mother, who knew nothing of his illness. He had hidden this secret from her this whole time and finally confessed it. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done. My strong Baptist grandmother forgave him at once, and began praying for him day in and day out. And on June 29th, 2003, a miracle happened to my father.

Angry and disgusted with himself and determined to get back his life, my father shut himself in his boat, dumped out all of his booze and began praying to God to heal his disease. My father wept and prayed for healing hour after hour. This went on for around two days. He never left the boat, but just sat there and prayed. He had no where else to turn and knew of nothing else to do. Now, he didn’t just sit and pray for 48 hours straight; he did eat and sleep, but praying was what he did mostly. Then, as he finished praying and laid back to rest, he suddenly felt as if his entire body was lifted up and unable to move. He felt a sense of light surrounding him. Then a tingling sensation moved from his toes on up to his head. He knew without a doubt that it was an experience from God. He sensed God’s presence. Every thought that normally circled around in his mind like a sandstorm, suddenly stood still and focused on one thing...Jesus. He wasn’t dreaming. He knows that he was conscious and coherent because he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. At first, for a moment, he thought that he was dying and going to heaven. He felt immense joy because he knew that he was a part of something much greater than this world. All of his anxieties and worries and fears were gone. He had never felt such peace. He realized then how much of our lives are filled with these apprehensions. His burdens were suddenly lifted and love filled his heart. This intense feeling lasted for over a minute. When it was all over, tears of joy streamed down my father’s face and he sat there in awe. He now knew for certain that God and heaven and his steadfast love are for real.

My father then said to me, “At that moment son, God cleansed me of my desire and thirst for alcohol and I will never touch it again.” As my father was telling me this, I felt a tingling sensation throughout my body. I knew for certain what my father was telling me had truly happened. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that what he said was true. I know my father and I know the honesty in his eyes. When he finished telling me about his experience, I suddenly burst into tears and he as well, and we embraced and cried together for a while. I’d been holding back those tears for such a very long time. I felt myself cleansed when I finally release them.

From that day in June of 2003, my father hasn’t touched a drink. What is truly amazing is that he tried time after time in rehab to quit and would always experience horrible withdrawal symptoms. This time there were none. My mother, brother and I all know how bad my father’s alcoholism was and that only God could have cleansed this disease. That experience not only changed my father, but my whole family. We are all much closer now and happy once again. As for me, well, that was my defining moment. Something changed in me that day when he told me of his experience. God kicked at my door and I finally opened it. My eyes were opened to what was truly important and that was my relationship with our Creator. I suddenly feared God because I had been so lost, but I also loved him very much. He saved my father’s life and mine in the process.

After that day, I began going to church, reading my Bible and whatever other Christian literature I could find. Before then, I had probably read only a hand full of books in my life, but now I can’t even count the number I’ve gone through. I have a thirst now to learn as much as I can about Christianity, so I am able to better explain it. I now know what I believe is true and how important it is to share my faith with others.

Our family didn’t tell others about what occurred for a while. I’ve had people tell me stories of spiritual experiences before and I always thought that it was just some coincidence or a delusion of some sort. So, I didn’t want people thinking that about my father. Also, he didn’t want people thinking that this happened because he was special, or because he sat and prayed for a certain length of time or anything like that. My father knows that he was undeserving of this experience, but that it was through God’s grace that he was healed.

The years that followed have been extraordinary. God has had his hand in my life because I have finally opened it up to him. I left my corporate job that I was unhappy with, I sold my condo to allow myself more flexibility to move around (there is a great story behind how I sold it), and then God sent me to Colorado. I thought it was to work with my cousin Houston at his outreach program, but instead, it turned into an internship at the Vail Fire department (which is another amazing story). My time in Colorado was another stepping stone that I almost tripped over. I met some really great friends and learned so much there that I’ve been able to apply to my life (which is why I know it was meant to be), but I also got caught up in drinking and partying again. That was one of the main reasons I left in such a hurry. I didn’t want to continue on down that road, so I decided to travel to Guatemala to take a break, help out where I could and figure out a new path for my life…and that is where my travels began. Some amazing things have happened that set me on this path. It has been so evident to me that this is God’s plan for me. I would have never in my wildest dreams thought that I would be writing, of all things, journals about my life and how God has worked in it. In school, my worst and least favorite subject was English. I absolutely despised writing and essay exams made me nauseous. Isn’t it funny how God takes your weaknesses and uses them to make a point? Only a month before I left for my trip, I found this travel blog site and thought, hey; I’ll just use it as a better form of e-mail with pictures…and look at it now. I’ve been talking with people from all over the world and have found a way to share my faith.

I now look back over my life and can see clearly where God has had his hand. In many of those past situations, I felt like nothing good could of come out of it or that God was simply not around. I have learned now that He was always there and knew exactly what He was doing. My father’s alcoholism opened my eyes to the harsh truths of the world and his recovery changed my life and saved me from the world. I know what it feels like to have money and I also know what it feels like to lose it all. I’ve learned that money means absolutely nothing without love. Relationships are the true measure a person’s wealth. As for what’s in store for me now, I honestly don’t know. But, I can say that I no longer fear the future and the paths I will take. I now walk by faith and know that my paths will lead me straight. God is my guide and fills my heart completely. And as I said before, I now listen to and follow my heart instead of my head. As for my purpose in life, well, that’s easy. My purpose is to help and serve others, to inspire and motivate, to stir people’s hearts, to share my faith, to guide others down the right path, to build new relationships and nurture the old, to praise God with every waking breath, and most importantly, to love. When we love, we strive to become better than we are, and as a result, everything around us becomes better. Therefore, my main purpose on this earth is to love and not hate and simply share my faith. And as for my fate…well, Jesus took care of that.

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