And she answered and said to Him, "Yes, Lord, yet even the little dogs under the table eat from the children's crumbs." Mark 7:28

Waking in a strange house, I rubbed my eyes as I tried to sort out the events of the night before in my nine year old mind. Mom and dad had fought, and mom left the house, taking me with her and leaving my two sisters with dad. We had driven to the home of a male friend of hers who said we could stay the night. This man, I soon found out, was a drug dealer. This man would start me on a journey, my descent into utter darkness.

When my parents divorced, mom took my younger sister and moved in with her boyfriend who lived out of town. Likewise, my dad kept my older sister with him, and he was getting ready to move out of town. "When I find a place for us", he told me, "I'll come for you". My mother had similar words for me; both promised me that they'd come back for me as soon as they found adequate housing. Mom dropped me off with an uncle who was about 5 years older than I was. Never could I have imagined that I was being abandoned. It would be years before I'd see or hear from any of my family again.

Having no home or family to turn to, I moved back in with the man who'd let my mom and me stay with him that ill-fated night. "Moved back in with" isn't quite what it sounds to be. He didn't offer me a place to live, but a place to "crash" every now and then, a place to get high and sleep it off; I delivered drugs for him and he rewarded me with pot. The streets were my home; when I was picked up by the police they would place me in foster homes which I promptly ran away from. I hopped trains, and lived in abandoned buildings and I was always hungry. I found myself stealing food, a hungry child wandering the streets with no where to go, confused, and becoming angrier with each step I took. Why did mom and dad take my sisters and not me, I thought, what is wrong with me, why doesn't anyone want me? Am I that terrible? Unable to understand how a parent could not want their child and to abandon him, leaving him to the streets and never looking back or checking to see if all was okay for him, depressed and angered me, darkening my mind. I had heard about God, that He was a loving God and that He cared, but if this was God's ways, He sure didn't love; how could he allow so much pain? Was my "being born" so wrong? And why me, what was it about me that was so wrong? Then my thoughts started not to question anymore; but instead I began to come to my own conclusions: If You can't love me, God, then I can't love You, I'd dwell on these thoughts and they grew into: I hate You, God, if You can turn Your back on me, then I'll turn my back on You, I don't need You and I don't want You". I felt the same way about my family. Somehow I blamed myself for all my family's dysfunctions and thought that was why I was abandoned. And because I was the reason my family wasn't together, even God had turned His back on me. Then I blamed it all on God; He had created me, knowing I'd go through this pain because He wanted this for me; this was His purpose for me.

As days went into weeks and then into months, I started meeting the kind of people that parents warn their children about. People with criminal minds doing criminal deeds; people with drugs, weapons, and a lot of money. It didn't take me long to figure out how to tap into this, with my mind filling with hate, it was a resource by which I could fend for myself. By the time I was eleven I was delivering drugs, carrying a weapon of my own, and collecting money for dealers …and I was using more than marijuana to stay high.

In the beginning, energy and staying awake were my objectives in experimenting with drugs stronger than pot. I needed to numb my pain and feelings of insignificance …certain drugs did that for me; but even more so, I needed to be in control and have the sense of being on top of things…and other drugs did that for me. By the time I was 14 I was pushing drugs, collecting drug debts and trying Heroine. However; Meth was my drug of choice…it kept my anger fired up inside me. But sin is not without consequence; there's a price to be paid for the lifestyle I was living. That payment can be a criminal record, serious physical injury, death, or any or all of the above. Later I would learn that Jesus paid a price for me, a cost I could never afford, a debt I could never repay. And, He has never asked me to repay Him, nor has he sent out His collectors. This was a free gift from God, a love offering.

My knife was no match for the guns and other weapons of violence the debtors were prepared to use to keep me away. I could not come out the winner by just matching their level of violence…I had to exceed it in order to stay on top. I have been stabbed 32 times over the years. I've also been shot twice. Guns and violence are a part of drugs and illegal activity, that's the way it is, and I knew that…being the "street kid" that I was.

I began feeling what I can only describe as a sense of "hope" that there was more to life than what I was living and I began to long for a more stable place in this world. I had watched shows on television like "Father Knows Best" and "My Three Sons" which showed families together, laughing, crying, playing, eating, and doing things that showed they cared about each other. The world was moving by me; I wanted that kind of life, one with the white picket fence around it.

I got a part time job working for a delivery company. One day, while on a delivery job, I met a girl who worked at one of the stores. There was a pure innocence about her that caught my attention and held it. Her smile made me feel warm and I knew that she was the one person for me, the one I wanted to share my life with. Helen knew the normal side of life; she understood the responsibilities and benefits of being a positive contributor to society; things like getting a full time legal job, going to work every day, regularly bringing home a paycheck, and doing things together in a caring, loving way. Up until now, I'd filled my life with drama, hate, and problems; but she showed what it was like being loved and loving back. This is what I'd dreamed about; that hope that kept me going…my "white picket fence". We married a year later; I was 17 and felt that the dark world I'd been living in at last had an open door to a brighter place, and I was walking through it, and this time I wasn't alone.

I tried, but I could not get a steady respectable job. Employers don't want 17 year olds with only a 6th grade education, a criminal record, no job experience or credible references. I worked a few scattered part-time jobs, but nothing that made me the bread winner or leader of our family which I felt I needed to be. My wife had a good steady full-time job. My inability to find steady employment caused us to argue. Helen constantly urged me to seek full-time employment, but I made excuses for myself, playing off my troubled childhood. "If you're not going to get a real job", she finally said to me, "then maybe we need to reevaluate our marriage". She had become a driving force to reckon with in my life. I've faced the devil, I've faced the street, but I don't want to face my wife when she's angry. I put more effort into finding a full time job. One employer I called kept telling me to call back tomorrow. Finally he asked me if I could run a fork lift. "Yeah", I said, assuming I could figure it out, I mean, how hard could it be to drive a fork lift? I was hired, at $8.00 an hour. I was elated. Even though I could earn five times that amount illegally, this was a real job, a full time, 40 hours per week position. I felt good about myself. The job lasted 17 years.

The owners of my new job became like grandparents to me. They took me under their wings and taught me how to be a businessman in a business world, the ins and outs of good ethics, and I came into my own through their love. These beautiful people were a gift to me, fulfilling exactly what I thought I needed. They encouraged me in staying on a straight path.

The first time I prayed was the day our son was born. There were problems with the delivery and my wife had an emergency "C" section, leaving me standing in the waiting room with my thoughts and my fears. "Oh, please, God," I prayed, "please protect them. Do not let me lose my son or my wife". As I prayed I realized that there was a higher power, that crucial missing piece in my life. Something or someone had kept me alive all those years and had guided me to Helen, my job, and now our baby. Whether it was God, a divine one, or another type of higher power, I knew there had been a definite control and protection around me; something more powerful than myself or any of the situations I'd been involved in. My wife delivered a healthy baby boy…Nicholas.

People were telling me what a great job I was doing with my life now, how strong-willed I had become. I thought I'd done this myself, pulled myself off the street, that it was me who was creating these great things in my life. Unfortunately, I was very wrong.

I worked 6 to 7 days a week to maintain my new responsibilities…a family and material things. My long hours of work and other activities kept me from just relaxing and enjoying my life. Fatigue set in. I needed energy to keep up with the expectations I'd put upon myself as an employee, father, husband and sobriety. Feeling that I was slipping from being on top of things, I looked for ways to stay energized. Strong coffee was not enough, so I added over-the-counter pep pills. Those triggered a desire that I should have recognized. I should have stopped right there and then; but I didn't. Before long I was doing Meth again. Blinded by my desire, I thought I had become strong enough to control it. That I could stop any time.

My work suffered; then I started not showing up for work at all. I would search for drugs all day and then "party" with my drugs and drug contacts. I fooled myself into thinking that I was hiding all this from Helen and my boss; or I didn't care if they knew or not, I was hooked again…and my habit was up to a couple hundred dollars a day. Feeling like I did when I was a teenager. I moved out of our home and became a drug debt collector…again! I was a different kind of businessman now dealing with drug manufacturers and distributors. The trouble with the police started all over again. I went to a seedy hotel to collect on a debt. Unbeknownst to me, it was being watched by the police. I was angry, I was high, and I beat someone with my fist. I was arrested and spent 5 months in jail for assault.

Helen bailed me out. She was always there for me. Whenever I needed a place to flop, I'd show up at her doorstep and she'd take me in. She tried to salvage our marriage. I was in and out of jail and she knew how seriously I was involved in drugs. The thought of losing my family was awful, but I couldn't kick the habit. The judge gave me a choice… jail or rehab. I chose rehab.

While in rehab, I thought a lot about what I was involved in. I talked to God about it. I asked Him for His strength, for a sign, for the help I needed to stay out of jail and to once again get back on the right side of things. My rehab counselor was a strong Christian woman, spiritually grounded. She encouraged me. God's strength also came through Helen who stood firmly by my side. Her perseverance and presence was my sign from Him. He gave me peace. I am amazed at His miracles and how he has transformed my heart and my flesh. I no longer crave the drugs, the people, or my prior criminal unhealthy lifestyle. The Lord is now the high that I crave, God's people are who I desire to be with, and my lifestyle choice is to walk with God, to stay in His Word, and to fellowship with Him. He's showing me how He intended my life to be in the beginning. I see that He allowed my circumstances to be what they were in order for me to appreciate all the goodness He is granting me now. His grace astounds me because He's not only freely forgiven me, but he's shown me how to forgive others.

God has strengthened my relationship with my wife and son. I've been attending church regularly for the past two years. God, alone, could orchestrate something as complicated and wonderful as the peace and harmony that is in my life now. God taught me to give and to forgive by His giving and sacrifice to me first so I could follow His example. He's opened my eyes and shown me the true path I'm to follow, and I've made the decision to follow Him. My Pastor is truly inspired by God. In his sermons I hear the serenity, peace and joy that the Lord has given him while he was in the midst of his personal heavy trials. Through his teaching of the Word of God, I am encouraged and edified. I am strengthened as I walk with Jesus. God loved me while I was in the throes of misery. While I hated Him, He protected me, loved me, and desired my love in return. Rather than just having information about God, I now have a relationship with Him and I confess that Jesus is the Son of God, that He is my salvation. I am able to return His love.

"We love Him because He first loved us." 1 John 4:19