Month: April 2018

Years ago, I was sitting in a bar on Santa Monica Boulevard in Los Angeles. A guy who worked for me had just inherited a big sum of money and a large amount of land. The only problem was he would have to move his family to Utah to get any of it.

As he and I sat at the bar, this guy was torn. He knew all the benefits that this inheritance meant for his kids and even for himself, but he also knew that it meant a total upheaval of the life they now had. He kept saying over and over the more he drank, “The money would take care of everything! The kids will be able to go to college and Lori and I will be able to live a comfortable life.” But as soon as these words were out of his mouth, he would shake his head and say, “But Utah? I don’t want to move my family to Utah. The kids love their school and we have a great house….” Then he would just stop and shake his head again. This went on for about an hour. Finally, he went silent and I thought I should say something.

So, I said, “Hey, Nate, if you don’t think you can handle this, sign it over to me. I need these kinds of problems! Yeah, a whole bunch of money and free land. Even if it is in Utah, I have lived there, it could be worse.” He looked at me as if he could not tell if I was being serious or not, maybe that last double whiskey was more than he could do. Then it dawned on him that I was just kidding, and he smiled and said, “Yeah, I guess I am being crazy about this, who is going to look a gift horse like this in the mouth, right?”

It seemed he had made his decision. From that point, all the drinks were on him. After all he was the rich guy and I was still just a working stiff and no longer his boss. About two weeks later he called me just before they were heading out-of-town. He sounded happy and I thought I would never hear from him again, but I did.

Almost a year later, as I was stuck in traffic on the 405, my car phone rang. At first, I could only hear breathing and a sort of mumbling. Once I rolled the window of my truck up, it sounded more like sobbing and distracted words. I had no time for this and was about to hang up, when he said my name, “John, it’s me Nate. You remember, I used to work for you?” I said, “Sure, my rich friend, the Utah land baron!” There was a sarcastic laugh on the other end and than in almost mournful tones he said, “Land baron, my (expletive), it was all a hoax or pretty much so. Land burdened with taxes, money that keeps being absorbed by lawyers. Lori and the kids want me to sell it all and head back home. Any chance I could get my job back?” What could I say but, “Yeah, sure buddy! I can find a spot on one of the crews. But are you sure you want to do this?” he laughed that same laugh and I could hear the bitterness, “I would rather shoot myself than spend anymore time in this mess. I should be back in town next month.” We talked some more, and I never heard from Nate again. Two months later I read in the newspaper that he had shot himself, as all the rich dreams crashed in around him.

I must admit, I was jealous when I first heard about Nate and his inheritance. I had always dreamed some day that would happen to me. I gambled knowing the big win was coming on the next roll of the dice. I stood in line for lottery tickets knowing one day I would hit the jackpot. It never happened but when I found out Nate had killed himself, I thought, what a waste. If it would have been me I would have found a way to make it all work. Money never goes to people who know what to do with it.

I have to laugh now. I really believed that. Me the guy who wasted thousands or maybe hundreds of thousands of dollars on bad living. I believed if I had just a little or even a whole lot more, I would have had it made. Yeah, right! I know now no matter how much I would have ever had without knowing God’s truth about money it would have ended in the same rat hole as all the rest.

Jesus looked around him, even in the poor society he chose to be born in and he saw how the rich got richer and well, the poor, yeah, got poorer. Yet He said this, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” (Luke 6:20) What? Wait a minute, surely you mean ‘poor in spirit’ as the book of Matthew quotes Jesus. But is there a difference? Poor or poor in spirit, Jesus also tells us, “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.” (Matthew 6:24) Jesus tells us money can be a problem.

I surely am not saying money is evil. But unless you and I understand that IT along with everything else is HIS, we will be serving IT instead of HIM. When we see, “every animal of the forest is mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills.” (Psalm 50:10) and understand our very lives belong to Him, then money becomes what God intended it to be, a means of service to others. Like all other things it is a matter of faith and trust. Can we believe the promise, “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows.” (Luke 12:6-7) Trust God as out financial advisor.

I wish today I would have given Nate better advise or at the very least I would have tried to find out the fate of his widow and kids. Years later I did find out she had remarried, and the kids were ok. But at the time I only thought about the money and what I could have done with it. Today it is my prayer if you are struggling with or without the money you need that you will claim His promises. He knows your needs!

Blessings John

4/18/18

“Which one is your father?” A classmate asked at one of our first open houses. It was the beginning of my freshmen year at St Vincent DePaul Seminary. I scanned the room spotting my father easily. He normally stood out no matter where he was. Around 6’-3 and at that time well over 250 lbs. I never had a problem finding him in a crowd. And as I pointed out to my friend, he let out a low whistle and said, “I bet you didn’t make him mad too often!” I shook my head in a non-committal way. The truth was I know I had done so way too often.

Being the youngest of four kids, my brothers and sister might have believed I was doted on more than the others. I cannot be sure about this because from my perspective when punishments were being dealt out I sure seemed to get my share but who can say. The one thing I know for sure was that I was considered a precocious child. Today I might have been judged to have one of these things like ADH or some other thing with three initials. Either way I did get into a lot of trouble as a boy and felt my parents, especially my father, did not understand me.

So, when I married, and my son was born I was determined to be a better parent than my dad was. But in the end, I failed miserably. As a lot of us do, once I became a parent, I saw the job was not as black and white as I thought it would be. On top of that I had married too young and did not know how to be either a husband or a father. And when the marriage tanked I saw my whole life as a failure. So many bad decisions were made, most of them under the influence of alcohol and drugs. Running from it all, I now had a terrible opinion of all fathers, as I saw more and more guys like me.

This failure as a parent had profound effects on me as I was coming to believe in Jesus Christ. There were all these images of a loving Father that permeate the Bible. I could not relate to this. I knew there were others like me who struggled, those who had abusive fathers and those who were raised without one. It was when I talked to a few from the latter group, I was hit with a double whammy, guilt and unbelief.

I had abandoned my son, so when I listened to victims of abandonment I would be consumed by guilt not knowing where to turn. And to compound it I could not see God as a Father. Fathers fail, how could I believe. I was ready to run again. But as so many times in my life God threw me a life preserver.

This time in came while I was watching a program called Celebrating Life in Recovery. I had been watching this show hosted by Cheri Peters for quite a while. Seeing it dealt with folks like myself, who were struggling with the residue of addictions and life problems that kept them from God, it always interested me. Most of the time I could relate. But as I started to watch this episode, I found myself indignant. The guest was a child molester! What testimony could he give that anyone needed to hear?

But as I watched the program, I started to see myself in this man. No, I had never molested or abused my son. But I had done as much harm to him. And as I saw that this guy could trust he was forgiven and believe in a God that loves him that much. I knew I needed to dig deeper myself and seek to know more about this God, this Father.

That man’s testimony stayed with me for a long time. In fact, I just recently saw it again, as I am now the team leader in our church’s Celebrating Life in Recovery’s 14-week program. Now as I watched it, I did not see a ‘child molester’ but a child of God who was forgiven, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9) God is a faithful father, even if I am not and He has proved it through the cross of His own son, “God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16) The love of the perfect Father!

On this earth fathers are flawed. I now see mine did all he was capable of. I failed as a father, as so many others have. But I no longer see God through the light of human failure. In fact, I see Him as the only hope for myself and I pray for my son. If you today struggle with a less than perfect father, “Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of all mercies, and the God of all comforts;” (2 Corinthians 1:3) He loves you and is waiting for you!

Blessings John

4/16/18

Were you ever afraid of the dark? I sure was when I was a kid. And I don’t mean I just didn’t like it! No, I dreaded the very idea of it. It wasn’t just the dark but was those things that go bump in the night. The monsters that hide in the closet and the terribly scary things that wait under the bed. Even though I slept in a room with my two brothers, I lived in fear every night. And if wasn’t for my trusted dog Specks, who slept at the end of my bed, it could have been a lot worse.

My problem was I did not get over this fear. I remember when I first went away to the Catholic seminary where I attended high school. Even though the place was pretty well lit at night, it was creepy to me. The dorm we slept in was one large room. Maybe thirty-foot-wide and fifty yards long. Three beds on each side of a main aisle, with a four-foot-tall closet beside each bed and dividing it from the next set of beds. Steam radiators ran along both outer walls with large factory like windows above them. Those radiators creaked and banged all night. With steam pipes running along a bare concrete ceiling. I tell you it was creepy.

But to tell you the truth, the dorm wasn’t to bad. If you could get used to sleeping with 30 or so adolescent boys every night, it was bearable. But it was the bathrooms that brought back my fear of scary things that walk in the night. They looked like any commercial bathroom you probably have ever seen. I believe there were at least 6 stalls on each wall. Lit with a blue fluorescent light, it was a room full of shadows and eerie sounds. And any time I went in there at night I was sure something or someone would pop out of one of those stalls and that would be it.

Well, I don’t know if I told someone about my fear or if it was so obvious that someone caught on. But one night I went into the bathroom with my normal trepidation and as I was entering a stall, the door of one behind me slammed open and out jumped a specter from hell! I know I screamed not because I remember it, but because the guys who had planned this scare fest never let me forget about it. The specter that scared me so bad was one of my freshmen classmates covered in a sheet with a flashlight below his face. He started laughing so hard it woke the dorm monitor (an upperclassman who was in charge of keeping underclassmen in line and above all quiet, no talking after lights out) and both of us earn two demerits for this late night high jinx. And I earned the reputation of a guy who was afraid of his own shadow. It took almost two years to live that down.

From then on, I needed to fake my bravery but my fear of the night and the unknown that travels in it lasted into my adult life. And as addictions took over my life sometimes it would be even scarier. There were nights I had drank myself into black-out and waking up in the dark, not knowing where I was, a terrible fear would run through me. In my mind I would be five years old again, too afraid to move knowing that if I did the thing that was waiting for me would awaken. Cold sweat would be running down my back. But the crazy thing was there was never anything there. If I could take that first step into the darkness, I knew it was all in my head.

I think the fear of the unknown has a hold on all of us in one way or another. My fear always centered around the night and darkness. But there are a hundred different ways that we can live in fear. And what I learned as I came to trust in Jesus and spent time everyday in his Word, that is exactly where Satan wants us to be. For me it was a few verses from the book of Proverbs that finally helped with my fear, “My son, do not lose sight of these- keep sound wisdom and discretion, and they will be life for your soul and adornment for your neck. Then you will walk on your way securely, and your foot will not stumble. If you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.” (Proverbs 3:21-23) But there are so many other promises within God’s Word, that whatever you fear, He knows it and you can find the courage to take your first step when and if you can trust.

I can’t say that I am completely cured of my night fears. Even now I will get that creepy feeling. But I know who it is waiting in the dark. With and through Jesus I have the answer, I simply say, “Get behind me Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” Taken from Matthew 16:23. And even if darkness is Satan’s realm, I now live in the light. Thank you, Jesus.

Blessings John

4/11/18

I have been writing this blog for almost a year now. Most every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I have sat in front of my notebook praying that I could find the words to express what God has done in my life. Hoping it would encourage others.

I love to write. When I was young I had every intention of becoming a journalist. An investigative journalist to be exact. At the time there were still newspapers that we read every day and I wanted to have my by-line on the front page of one of them. But life has a way of interrupting plans. By the time I was nineteen I was married, and, in another year, I had a son.

So, I decided I would work construction for maybe a year or so. You know, make some big bucks. Then I would go back to school and get my degree. While that dream lasted I would still write and journal every day, keeping my skills honed. I was sure it would not be long; the Chicago Sun Times would be calling. It did not happen.

One year of Ironwork turned into another. Soon the journals were put away and so was my writer’s dream. And before long the kid who dreamed was gone too. First marriage ending in divorce and a growing problem with addictions washed away whatever remained. Life the dream crusher!

Almost forty-three years go by without writing a word that is not in seldom sent letters or cards. Then in 2016 a lady from Georgia sent me a Facebook friend request. Within a short period of time we were sending ‘Instant Messages’ back and forth daily, then several times a day. Over the next few months writing became our means of communicating. The skill and love I thought was long dead began to return. But this time it was different.
I was no longer that boy who dreamed of breaking the story that would be plastered on every front page, now I wanted to write words that would allow this woman to know who I was now and who I was before. I wanted her to know more than anything what God had done in my life.

So, I wrote. Every morning I would pray and then start. I told her everything. Cancer, addictions, the abandonment of my son and the death of my wife. Such hard things to write to someone you are trying to impress. But as I said this time it was different, this time I wrote with the Holy Spirit as my guide and He is a tough taskmaster. No sugar coating would be His direction, tell her the truth and let Me do the work in both of your hearts. I must admit it was hard for a guy who loves to tell stories not to embellish but in time I saw God’s wisdom is always true and amazing!

Some mornings there would be a scripture I was led to and I would share it. It would be so cool because the Holy Spirit would help me to write the things about the scripture which would be helpful not just for me but for her too. And she would do the same thing. Because if I did not tell you this lady, among her many talents, is an amazing writer. So, for months we never spoke a word. We let the written word convict our hearts about each other. And I guess you know it did. RuthAnn and I were married on December 29, 2016.

Those months of sharing rekindled my passion for writing. Older and wiser than the young man who walked away so many years ago. I now seek to use the gift God gave me to share the testimony of His miracles in my life. I love the story of the demon possessed man and, of course, I relate. But it is what Jesus tells him as they are parting that I think of often when I am writing. This man who has been saved from a legion of demons so wants to go with Jesus. But He tells him this, “But Jesus said, ‘No, go home to your family, and tell them everything the Lord has done for you and how merciful he has been.” (Mark 5:19) That is what I want to do every time I sit at this keyboard and write this blog.

So, I am a writer again. Along with the blog RuthAnn has encouraged me to write some of the humorous stories that she has heard me tell. I am endeavoring to do so. But it is this blog that holds my heart more than anything. Through the miracle of the internet three times a week I have been allowed to do what that man, now free of his demons did, “And he went away and began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him, and everyone marveled.” (Mark 5:20) I get to proclaim Jesus and His saving power. I pray some of you may marvel at what God can do!

P.S. I want to thank you all for your heart felt comments after my last blog. Your prayers and love for RuthAnn and me are a huge encouragement. God is good, all the time. And all the time, God is good!

Blessings and Happy Monday, John

4/9/18