I was born and raised in a Irish/Italian Roman
my name is Dave. This is my testimony.
Catholic family. I went through the normal rites of
passage for a Roman Catholic Boy. First communion,
first confession , Confirmation. I served as an Altar
Boy at St. Pius the Tenth Church in Ft. Lauderdale.
I was raised knowing that there was a God, but it
the traditional (at that time) Roman Catholic view of God.
That God was ...up there....up in the sky, that he was distant and
untouchable. That he was always watching me and if I sinned, I'd better
run to confession and atone for my sin, pronto!
I wasn't very much into going to church at that time, partially
because Mass was such a boring thing. It felt more like I was
going through the motions, (that I didn't understand at all)
{Roman Catholic mass is/was VERY Coreographed You stood only
certain times, you sat only at certain times, and you knelt only
at certain times.} I thought the music was boring, and the only
time you could ever look at someone else, much less smile was in
The Sign of Peace where you shook hands with the people in the
pew in front of you and with the people in the pew behind you.
You didn't dare leave your pew and shake hands with anyone else.
To me, going to Mass was doing a duty , as in, Ok- let's
do this and get it over with ASAP ! :) So much so, in fact, that
I would look in the bulletin to find out which Priest was preaching,
not because I like the way they preached, but because I kept a tally
of Priests in my mind, and I knew that some of them went through
Mass very quickly. Far as I was concerned, the quicker the better.
Then I attended my first Charismatic Conference. W O W !!
Mass could actually be fun ?! Christian songs could actually
be
exciting ?! Holy Cow !! I decided real fast that I liked these
Charismatics. However, I didn't like the fact that they liked to
hold hands. At that time, I was very introverted and inhibited.
I did not liked to be touched at all. I certainly wasn't going to
hold anyone's hand, nor was I going to raise my hands in the
air like they did.
I accepted Christ at that Conference. However, because I would not
allow any human being to get close to me, I would not allow God to
come close to me either. I realize this may sound strange since,
hey, God is God and he can do anything he wants. I only
realized when I was in the Salvation army that when I let people get
close to me, I allow God to get close to me as well. I can't fully
explain it, but I know it to be true from my experiences.
As you might expect, because of this, God remained only
head knowledge for me. At this time I was either 12 or
13.
I was, at that time, lonley, introverted, inhibited, akward, and
feeling very cut off from my fellow human beings. I began to
search for an answer, not realizing that that little piece of God's
awareness was active within me yelling out LET ME IN! LET ME IN!.
I tried meditation, Yoga, The Silva Mind Control Method, Self-
Hypnosis. I began to become interested in Extra Sensory Perception,
I felt that I was a psychic and began to research psychic
phenomenon. I tried Astral projection, Astral listening/seeing,
I was actually somewhat successful at Clairvoyance. I would
hold an object in my hand and I could tell you something about
whomever last touched or wore this object. Generally the object's
owner. Now, just so you know, I don't believe that I was ever
psychic, but rather that I was picking up on unspoken cues, body
language and other such non-psychic things.
All the while, I was still with the Church (in body only).
I held my first position of Ministry in the Church at that time.
That of Music Minister of the Youth Mass over at St. John the Baptist
Church.
I also, around that time, had my first drink. Alcoholism
, so far, has been in three generations of my family (myself included)
so when I took that first drink, there was no question as to whether or
not I would be an alcoholic. I was, period. In fact, even before
I took a drink, I had all the physical and emotional characteristics
of an Alcoholic. Essentially, I was an alcoholic before I had
my first alcoholic drink. Because of this, Alcohol would become both
salvation and damnation to me. Salvation because it relieved
my
inibitions and allowed me to actually loosen up somewhat and
have fun. But damnation because it would gradually ravage my
brain and cause nothing but trouble and destruction for me. It would
lead me to the gates of insanity. This is no joke !
The first thing to happen as a result of drinking was that
I lost my position as Music Minister of the Youth mass. I was
up late into the evening Saturday night, drinking, and when Sunday
rolled around, I decided that I was too tired to go to Mass and that
they'd have to "live without me". I received a call that afternoon
informing me that I was no longer the Music Minister and that
I was also not to even play piano for them ever again.
I used this as an excuse to further study Psychic Pheonena
(the Occult.) I began to study Witchcraft and for a short time
I was a practicing Wiccan (Witch).
I abandoned Wicca and all the other trapping of the Occult because
I wasn't getting anything out of it. Despite all the books I read, and
all the letters those book writers said they got about how well their
systems worked, it never worked for me. (No suprise,
since Satan is
the father of lies and he'd do anything to get me or anyone else
into his clutches! )
I was now 16 and I decided that maybe I should try the church
again. My family joined a Charismatic Church out in Pompano.
San Isidro (San Isidro is a somewhat Anglicised spelling of
San Ysidro The patron saint of Farmworkers, which is what this
church was supposed to be, a church for migrant farm workers,
except that there were no migrant farmworkers in Pompano !
:) )
I immediately joined the Youth Group, both as a participant and as their
sometimes Piano Player / Singer and later as their overhead
projecter operator.
At that time, I had been drinking for two years and was
in a state that psychologists describe as Alcoholic Insanity. I was,
in a word, wierd. No one wanted anything to do with me,
for good reason too!. I was not allowed into any positions of
responsibility, I was also not allowed to give any teachings to
the Youth Group. (Again, with good reason! ) (Think, "The lights
are on, but no-one's home." That would describe how I was then!)
I experiemented with dope, and decided I didn't like that too
much. It was too uncontrolable for me. ( Did I also mention that I was
a control freak too ! :) )
I also experimented with solvents, (gasoline, ether, nail polish
remover, paint thinner, certain paints, Amyl "Rush" Nitrite {I think
that's it's real name} even Rubber Cement. I consider it a miracle
that I have a brain left, much less a useable one, after inhaling
all of those various solvents. I also became addicted
to
pornography.
Strangely enough, I still remained with the church,
again, in body only. I got involved with the taping ministry. (Taping
the mass) I liked it. I was the only one in the booth and I
ran
the whole show back there !
I had been working, on-and-off for a while at that time.
You can probably imagine why I worked on and off and not steadily and
continously. I was unreliable, I went to lunch and would drink beer
and come back to work somewhat inebriated. I refused to listen
to my supervisors, I didn't get along with my co-workers.
My brain was so ravaged by Alcohol and drug abuse at this point,
that reality ceased to exist, as you and I know reality, that is.
I belived that I was always right, and that "you" were always
wrong. (Whomever, "you" happened to be, co-worker, customer,
or supervisor.) I believed that my supervisors fired me because
they were afraid to "do the right thing" and I would, and that would
upset their "nice, calm view of the way things should be" and in order
to "set everything right again" they would fire me and that would
"solve their problem". Of course, this wasn't even close to the
truth at all! I began to "buck the system" on purpose. I had
a "it's me verses them " mentality. {And I wondered why I could
never win! :) }
Despite these things, I never seemed to be out of work for
too long. I had become very good at conning companies into
hiring me. I found that few of them ever checked references, and
fewer still would call former employers. I would skew my applications
to make me look good. Also, about this time, I met my first friend.
We were "casual friends" to be sure, because neither I nor
she were capable of anything else. She and I were both addicts,
to different substances to be sure, but we were still addicts,
two hurting people, drawn together because we shared a common
hurt. She, sadly, committed suicide 1 1/2 years after we
first became aquainted. I felt like part of me died with her.
I became a daily drinker at that time, and I began to
casually contemplate suicide. I began to think of how
I would do it. I was too afraid of guns to use a gun, I was
too afraid of heights to jump from a building. I knew
what happened in an overdose as I had accidently overdosed
on a combination of Thorazine, Vodka and Aspirin.
(Alcohol and Aspirin, in case you don't know, are a bad
combination by themselves, and can possibly kill you. Thorazine,
which is a tranquilizer given to the criminaly insane, is extremly
potenet and that mixed with alcohol can kill you also. So imagine
the three of them together! I felt the effects of this for three
days !) {I got the Thorazine from a "drug buddy" at school.
He found
the pills and gave me two of them, he said one would "make me high"
so like an idiot I took two of them! - DUH !}
At this point, my addictions were in full swing. I wouldn't
take a sober breath for a long time ! I was either doing a drug,
drinking or watching porno movies in the bookstore booths.
(At the time, I thought I was straight - believe it or not - so
I wasn't looking for glory holes or anything else that
involved contact with another human being.) My addicitions
were
now at the point where they were causing me physical harm.
I was smoking (cigarettes) untill I was short of breath. I was
drinking untill the room spun and I was watching movies untill I was
physically injuring myself doing this. (I'll spare the details
on this one - I think you get the idea of this ! :) )
At this point I was driving. I was collecting tickets
for speeding, regularly. I crashed one car. (It was my fault)
I blew the engine on another car. (I didn't put oil in it ) I
blew the engine on a third car. (Same reason.) My driving
career came to a halt when I lost my license for a month
mandatory and I decided like an idiot to drive anyway.
I figured if I obeyed the traffic laws and didn't speed
the cops wouldn't catch me. Guess what? I did, and they still
caught me anyway. I was taken to the Broward County Jail,
just below the courthouse, I was held downstairs in intake
and let go on to appear in court at a later date.
I haven't driven a car since. (I lost my license for a year
mandatory for that stunt!). I crashed my bank account
three times. I couldn't hold on to money at all. It would
all go to booze, smokes and porn.
I began to drink and drive. (Something I swore I would
never, ever do!) I was never caught for this. I briefly entertained
the idea that I should committ myself to a mental institution. I thought
I was insane. (I actually was - but wouldn't realize how much
so until years later !)
About this time, the rest of my family found recovery
through therapy. They all went away to 28 day programs
either for substance abuse or co-dependancy. (Co-dependancy is the
other side of substance abuse. It's the person who covers up for
the drug abuser. "Oh he can't come to work today, he's ''sick ''
"
When he's actually hung-over..etc..) As they would come back,
they would come to me and tell me "Dave, your'e an alcoholic"
I didn't want to hear that. I wanted to be able to drink
without guilt. One of my family traits is that we're all
stubborn. So they kept telling me that I was an alcoholic and
I kept on denying it. At first, I would ignore them, or
not pay attention to them when they said that to me.
Eventually, however, it began to bother me.
I decided that I was going to have to prove them wrong.
At that time I had a ritual. I'd get off work at 10 p.m. and somewhere
between work and home, I'd pick up a bottle of whiskey or beer
whatever I was in the mood for, and bring it home and drink it.
I decided one night that I wasn't going to buy that bottle and
I'd prove them wrong. Guess what, even though I didn't want to
buy the booze, I did anyway. Even though I didn't want
to drink it, I did anyway. I distinctly remember that
before I drank that beer, I looked up into the night sky and
said "My name is Dave and I'm an alcoholic."
Two weeks later I attended my first meeting of Alcoholics
Anonoymous. I'll bet you think that from here on
my life began to go uphill, don't you ? Nope !
I just stopped drinking. My personality and my
insanity were still very much intact and operating.
About 11 months later, I started going to therapy, both
individual and group therapy. One month later (A year, almost
to the day I stopped drinking) I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's
Disease (The so - called "Young People's Cancer"). Most
people say that Cancer is a curse. To me, in retrospect,
Cancer was God's way of sending me an urgent message. The message
was
that by my insanity and self-hatred (which was almost consuming at that
point) I was killing myself off ! (I got my chemotherapy treatments
in my Doctor's office, rather than in the hospital, so I got to
see a lot of cancer patients. I was also in a support group for cancer
patients, and I got to see still more of them too. They all had the
same thing in common with me, they hated themselves!)
God worked through the cancer to teach me to reach out
for help. (He had to force me though - which wasn't easy as I had
a very high threshold for mental pain) He taught me that things
I couldn't conquer myself, I could walk through with the
support of others. (And a whole lot of his grace, mercy and
power !) For instance, at one point, I was very terrified of
my chemotherapy, but I didn't want anyone to know about it.
So I kept the terror at bay. I pretended it didn't exist. Which
might have worked, except that I was getting treatments at
least twice a month, so at least twice a month, I was trying to
absorb more and more terror. I kid you not, the effort involved
keeping it at bay , would make me physically exhausted.
I would wake up , after a good, eight hours of sleep, and I'd be
exhausted right away from holding that terror back.
I only got relief after I reached out in group therapy
and let them know how terrified I really was about chemotherapy.
(When I reached out to them, God was able to reach back
to me and take the terror from me. Hey ! I wasn't kidding when I
said I was a control freak ! :) )
However, moments like that were few and far between.
I was still "bucking the system" , I was still believeing
that I was right and "you" were wrong. I still didn't get along
with the people in group therapy, nor with my therapist.
In short, I was still insane and far away from God.
I moved to an effieciency in Wilton Manors, was allowed to
leave my group therapy. Remeber when I said I couldn't hold on to
money ? Well, I still couldn't. Even though I wasn't drinking,
I
still had all the characteristics from before (The old man and not
the new creature). I bounced a rent check and was trying
to pay it back in installments. I got too far behind and
my landlady informed me that she would be kicking me out, but that
if I "moved" out before she served my eviction notice that it would
be better for me.
At that time, I had no job, no money and I faced the
prospect of loosing my place. I could have gone back to my
parents, but I refused to do that. I tried to get into
St. Francis House, but they wouldn't take me. I tried to
get into Frank's Place (for Alcoholics) but I didn't have the
money. I didn't know what to do, and time was running out.
I knew I had to leave within two days, and I also knew that
I wanted to drink again. I was almost three years sober
and I wanted to drink again. I hit my knees in my efficiency
and for the first time, prayed a simple, honest prayer.
"Help me." When I stood up, I knew I wasn't going to drink,
I also knew I'd find a place to stay, I wouldn't have to
sleep on the street or something. That place turned out to
be the Salvation Army. Here's where my life turns around
!!!
I, who wouldn't listen to anyone, started to listen really hard
when they told me I had to do what they said, or they'd kick
me out. They told me that my first two nights would be free, but
after that, I would have to have a job. Well, by nine a.m. the
first morning of my stay at the Salvation Army, I had already found
a job and was at work. (And it wasn't day labor either! :) )
Granted it was mowing lawns and pulling tires off lots, but hey,
I couldn't afford to turn down work!).
I got into their work program and I was told that people
in the work program had to wash dishes after suppertime. That's just
what I did. I made sure they didn't have to come looking for me,
either.
I began to pray, on my knees, every night. (Prior to that,
I had prayed sitting down, and just barely, once a week, if that !)
I began to get self-esteem, little by little. (I had none before
that). I began to believe that I was worthy of love and acceptance.
(I didn't believe that.) I was physically threatened over there,
but God used that for his glory. When that happened, I had
people
stick up for me, some even cursed the guy who threatened me. One
guy made sure I was alright, even asking if the gentleman had stolen
my money, which he hadn't. Prior to this, I spoke to no one.
After this incident, and after everyone had seen me cry (I hated
to let anyone see me cry) I began to open up and speak to these
people. Once I began to let them get closer to me, it opened the door
to let God get closer to me. {Yes, I know that sounds strange, but
like
I said before, it's true.}
I began to believe in me, and when I could do that, then
I could begin to believe in God. I was finally letting Jesus
enter my heart and start the change in me. I realize that sounds
strange, since I mentioned that at 12 or 13, I got saved at
a Charismatic Conference. I really belive that at that time
I did get saved. The bible tells me that to be saved
I must belive. I must believe that Jesus Christ is the son of
God, that he came to earth, lived as a man, human in every way,
except that he was without sin, that he gave himself up to die
in our place so that we could go directly before God, and that
we could have a place in God's kingdom and that Jesus was the only
way to get to that Kindgom. I belived that when I
accepted him into my heart. The problem was that as a brand new
Christian, I wasn't able to get involved with good bible-based programs
and people. Add to that that I, myself, made pretty poor choices
about who I wanted to hang out with, and what kind of things
I wanted to read (not the Bible, nor Bible-based books or magazines! )
The message of God got choked out (but not killed) because of that.
I don't belive that when I left the church, that when I got
involved with drinking and drugs and the occult that I somehow
lost my salvation. I don't belive that we do loose our salvation.
I belive that we can abandon God, much like the Ancient Hewbrews did
when they made the Golden Calf in the desert and worshipped it.
I believe that we can walk away from God. But, as far as our
salvation goes, we can't un-save ourselves. I AM NOT saying
that I could possibly, accept Christ and then go out and
do whatever I wanted and be assured that I would have a home in
heaven. I am saying that once I asked Jesus into my heart, I
was saved. Now, because of my choices and because of my
addicitions, I walked away from God and walked in the path
of darkness, and I was walking down the path to hell. Not because
I became "un-saved" but because I gave up my salvation and all the
gifts and promises that come with it, for a quick high.
It was only when I landed into the Salvation Army that I began
to walk in the ways of God, and as such, I began to recieve
the gifts and promises of God. I had not "re-saved" myself
He taught me what a miracle was in there too! I had a
check from a
different employer whenI was there, she wrote me this check on a holiday,
when the banks where closed. The Check Cashing Store was closed,
the
liqour store next to the Salvation Army wouldn't cash it. The one
down
the street wouln't cash it. It was getting close to curfew time,
and if you tried to get back in after curfew, they wouldn't let you.
I had to have this money to get back in that night. I knew
I could make only one more stop. I prayed to God to help me cash
this check if it was his will. I also told him that if the check
didn't get cashed I wouldn't be mad and that I'd sleep in the bushes
next to the Salvation Army rather than go home.
The man at my last stop (another liqour store) said no to me
at first. I looked at him and without whining or pleading
said to him "I'm in the Salvation Army, this is my rent for the
night." Turned out he knew who I was, even though I didn't
recognize him. He asked me how much of it I needed. I told him.
He said he'd give it to me, but I needed to do something for
him. He asked that I would call my sister to let her know I
was doing alright. I told him I would. He gave me the money
and I raced back to the Salvation Army. I got back
just two minutes before curfew! No joke!
I eventually would leave the Salvation Army, I did move
back with my parents but I paid them rent this time! I got
better jobs and held them longer. I continued to remain sober
in A.A. (I celebrated 3 years of Sobriety as well as my
26th birthday in the Salvation Army!) I went back into therapy,
this time, I took it seriously. I attended individual therapy, while
paying back my former therapist what I owed him! I found a great
roomate and I met my best friend! (She still is !) I still hadn't
gotten back to the church. I was hostile, to the church, and
I didn't like to hear the word "JESUS". When I prayed I said
"GOD" but that was as far as I would go. Eventually, JESUS
softened my heart and called me back into the church.
First though, he helped me discover that I was gay!
(At 29 years old!). This was, perhaps, the hardest thing
I had ever had to deal with. As a Roman Catholic, I had been
taught that being gay was a sin. I had been shown bible passages
which seemed to back that up. I struggled with this for
many years. On the one hand, the bible seemed to be
telling me that homosexuality was absolutely forbiden and
that anyone who did it was going to go to hell, on the other
hand, both my therapists were gay, so was my sponsor (a sponsor
is a guide who helps you work a good honest 12 step program
like Alcoholics Anonymous). I couldn't see them going to hell
just because they were gay. They were honest, truthful,
they manifested what Jesus spoke about in
Matthew 6:22 "The lamp of the body is the eye. If therefore your
eye is good, your whole body will be full of light." In short,
they were good people. I absoulutely refused to believe that they
were going to go to hell just because they were gay.
I toyed with the idea of just ignoring the Bible, but
yet, in my recovery, I had met too many people and had seen too
many situations that were described in the bible, in some cases
word for word, as being good and right. I couldn't ignore the bible.
Besides that, as a Christian, I believed that the bible was the
inspired word of God. Yes, men wrote it, but God was the force
behind that writing. He was the director. He created a document
that
had many different writers, took over a thousand years to write, and
yet, never once, did it contradict itself. In some cases, events in the
bible were foretold generations before they even happened!
No, I
couldn't ignore the bible, nor would I.
I was arguing with a friend of mine (who became a Jehova's Wittness)
about homosexuality, and somewhere within the course of that argument
it dawned on me that sin was always a chosen action or idea.
I went
back and looked, and sure enough, all the sins that were described in
the bible were choices. That was my first clue that somehow, someway,
what they told me in the Roman Catholic church about homosexuality
was wrong. Homosexuality wasn't a sin. Sin was a choice and
homosexuality (for that matter , heterosexuality ) wasn't.
Even though I had no other proof than that, I began to believe
that being gay was NOT a sin!
When I started going back to church, I looked at M.C.C. Sunshine
Cathedral first, I went to the Easter P.M. Mass, I didn't like it.
I liked James's piano playing though !
About Mid- May 95 I decided to check out a church I had read about
in the Community Center bulletin. The Body of Christ Church. I went,
and
people stuck their hands out to me and welcomed me in. I liked that.
Then I saw the Pastors. A gay Pastor, I would have expected,
but a straight couple ! That blew me away, and at the same
time was very healing to me. I needed to hear a straight
preacher say that being gay was okay. And I did !
I don't think I can ever convey how healing that was to me.
(Although I've tried - quite a few times ! :) )
I started out playing keyboard here. Growing in God's
love. When the church moved, and they called for Deacons,
I felt God call me to serve as a Deacon. Not because I
was annointed, or special. But I felt called to serve, just
to serve. Not to glorify me, but to glorify GOD. To show
them that if God could use me, despite all I've done and
gone through that he certainly can use them. That
no matter what they themselves have done, they can never
call themselves "Crap" or "Garbage" like I used to call
myself, it just isn't true. God made them in his image,
and he dosen't make junk!
I attended the Bible and Homosexuality seminar and there
I learned that what I believed was right. Homosexuality was not
a sin! That all the passages of scripture that had been thrust
infront of me had been taken out of context, twisted and
reconstructed, in some cases, to justify homophobia in the church!
I could now back up my belief that people wouldn't go to
hell just because they were gay ! Being gay wasn't a sin, and
now I could prove it! I could now proudly declare myself gay
and Christian, and really believe that it was okay that I was
both. More than that, I could prove it! Being gay was okay!
It was not a sin, it was not an abberation, but it was part of
who I am. It didn't come between God and I, being gay didn't
cause me to sin, nor were we perverting the message of JESUS
in anyway to make it seem that it was okay to be Gay.
I now fully accept myself as a Gay man and as a Christian,
I am a Deacon of the Body of Christ Church and run an E-Ministry
on the Web where I am openly gay. I get the odd occasional
flame e-mail, but I answer that calmly and gently and explain
in simple terms that homosexuality is not a sin, and I am not
a sinner because I am a homosexual!
In closing, I will quote the apostle Paul, he was describing
himself, but he could have been easily describing me when
he said :
" This is a faithful saying and worthy of
acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the
world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.
However, for this reason, I obtained mercy
that in me first Jesus Christ might show
all longsuffering, as a pattern to those
who are going to believe on Him for
everlasting life. Now to the King eternal
immortal, invisible to God who alone is
wise, be honor and glory forever and ever.
AMEN!" {1 Timothy 1:15-17 NKJV }