 My Road to God has been a long and exhausting one. I’d say it has probably taken me around 28 years or so to travel to the point I am at right now, and I doubt it will ever truly end. My destination: inner peace, self-love, oneness with the Lord Almighty, a place by His side in Heaven, and a taste of the Tree of Life. My feelings, my emotions, and my views towards God, His Laws and wishes, His prophets, His Messiah, and the Bible were turbulent, emotional, and often painful to contemplate and decide upon. Many of the events in my life that have affected my views today had nothing to do with religion. My perception of myself and the world around me has obviously evolved with the more life I live. I will evidently have more wisdom ten years from now then I do today. Yet at this moment I feel that I have the knowledge and peace of mind to make decisions without other people, including family and friends, to make these eternity-altering decisions for me. I now have the wisdom and ability to choose how I live and what to believe. So as you read the following paragraphs and chapters of this book please keep in mind that they are my views, made after years of intensive research, study, discussions, prayer, and searches of my soul and myself. Today, I can honestly say that I love myself for the first time in my life, and it is because I know that God loves me and forgives me my sins and wrongdoings that I have committed against Him, other people, and myself. |
The early years:
So we begin. I guess the first memory I have concerning religion would probably have to be about Christmas. After all, why do my friends and their families celebrate December 25th by giving presents, feasting, hanging lights and decorating Christmas trees, and all the other merry deeds while my family does nothing? Why are we so different? What do they have that we do not? Why can’t Santa Claus visit my brother and my sister and I just like everybody else? It was a tough set of questions my parents faced. Though both my Mom and Dad were raised in religious families, practicing a mix of Conservative and Reform Judaism, our house was most definitely a non-practicing or secular household. This means that though we did not practice any religion we did live in a Jewish lifestyle and culture. So how were my parents to respond? Well, they explained in the best way that they could that we were a Jewish family and that our family is descended from other Jews and Jews celebrate Chanukah, not Christmas. “So,” we would ask, “what is Chanukah and, more importantly, would we get any presents?” I would hazard a guess that it was probably around this time that my folks considered sending my brother and I to Hebrew school in hopes of learning more about our history, culture, and religion. My parents did end up choosing to send us to Hebrew school. Unfortunately, this was short-lived; after all private school was extremely expensive and my parents were told by our doctors that attending two school programs would hurt our learning ability in elementary and junior high. So our formal Hebrew education ended soon after it started and we learned next to nothing about Judaism. It was here in my earliest years of religious knowledge that four family members would influence me the most in my spiritual understanding. First would have to be my Bubby (Yiddish for Grandma); next would be my Bubby’s sister, my great aunt; and then her son, my first cousin; and finally, my Mom’s older brother. Each of these family members were practicing Jews to one extent or another and all had a deep feel for the Jewish culture. Yet even through them we were not taught the true meaning of being Jewish, except for the fact that we were different from Christians. This became the central fact of the religion in my early years. Christmas, Lent, Easter, and Pentecost were Christian holidays and as Jews do not celebrate or recognize them. Thinking back it seems that even then there was a underlying sense that we were special, or even better people, because we were Jewish. Now I think it is important that I intercede at this point to declare that I do not believe this is what my family had intended to impress upon us. There was, of course mention of God, the Old Testament, and certain holidays, yet we never were taught the meanings behind these items and what they meant to us as individuals, families and as Jews in general. In no way can I hold anyone at fault for the way I was spiritually raised, I always sensed that my immediate family, especially my mother, never really even believed in Judaism, at least in the religious sense of the word. My mother did believe in the customs of the Jewish lifestyle yet she chose to follow a secular life. There were two Jewish rites that my family sometimes practiced; we would sometimes light a menorah on Chanukah and we sometimes had a Passover Seder. Yet these observances were extremely rare, the Chanukah menorah lighting especially. As the years went by, the Passover Seders became more of a family get-together than any kind of religious event. When my Bubby was still living, we at least made an effort at performing the Holy Seder, yet after her death in 1986, this became less and less a spiritual event. It is my perception that if it weren’t for my first cousin and my Bubby’s sister, we would not even have picked up a Haggadah (prayer book) at all. Until my great aunt’s death in 2000 we would sometimes have dinner on Passover at her house, but that is what it was, a dinner, not the Holy Convocation that the Lord demands in the Torah. I sometimes joke that my family always celebrated Passover by breaking open a bottle of Mogen David Concord grape wine and putting on a video of the Ten Commandments with Charlton Heston as Moses and Yul Brenner as the Pharaoh Ramses. It is a joke, yet it held a grain of truth. We loosely practiced Judaism by its customs, not by Torah or the Talmud. |
Adolescence and Atheism:
| | As the years went by, I began to pick up more and more knowledge of the religion. After all, most of my friends were Jewish, and many of them were practicing, some even attending synagogues every Sabbath on Saturday. So as I assimilated parts of the religion I formed opinions and many of them were positive. I think for a while I started believing. Yet even then I knew something was missing. My sister has told me in the past that even in middle school I used to declare that I was going to Hell, and she was right. I knew something in the religion was wrong. Why would the Lord have us practice a religion that was so cold, unfeeling, and distant? Yet there was more to it. I knew that Jews in Ancient Israel practiced ritual animal sacrifice and when I looked further into it I found that we were being ordered to do so. How could we be forgiven without doing what the Lord commanded us to do? After all we were ordered to sacrifice as an atonement of our sins. I quickly realized that if we could not make that atonement we were still living in sin. I thought I was damned for sure. It was at this point that certain external events took place, which altered my emotions and reactions towards religion and God in general. My self-esteem, which was always extremely low, became non-existent. The event was when I started middle school and I started getting beat up. Not once or twice, but three or more times a day and everyday. I was terrified of school, and I performed the only defensive move I could, I lied. I lied and told my schoolmates outrageous stories about my family and myself. All the time these stories were being passed out I prayed, I prayed like I never thought possible. I pleaded with God for safety and peace. Yet like all lies, mine became publicly known, many of them in the worst possible ways and my beatings started all over again, a few times worse than most can imagine. I became angry, really angry, not with the kids doing the beatings or even my parents for sending me back to school; after all they had no idea what was happening to me each day. So my anger became directed at God for not protecting me. I felt that since I was pleading and praying with Him that I should be saved in some form, but I wasn’t. The beatings just continued. This horrid lifestyle took place for four years. My parents, thinking that I was simply lying to everyone had to have me transfer schools in the district. I was even held back a year. In the end I was even given special protection from the school. Though I was now safe from the physical abuse, I remained irrationally angry, and gradually I became severely depressed. To make the situation even worse I was hit by a car while riding a bicycle to school and I was thrown 15 feet landing hard onto the pavement. I ended up with hearing loss in one ear and reoccurring nightmares. Now I was both physically and mentally damaged and I hated God and myself for it. It was then and there that I declared myself an atheist and a mistake. I wasn’t a true atheist, after all I still believed that there was a God, I just hated Him. That was when I began thinking that I was never meant to be and I should never have been born. After all, “life’s a bitch and then you die.” I lived thinking this way for many years to come. |
High School and Obsession:
Then I approached high school, where I learned several important factors of life: how to betray friendships, how to obsess over a girl, and how to fall deeper into a hole of overall despair anger, and depression. Yes, it sounds extremely sad, but I thought, isn’t that part of life? At the time I felt that God hated me as much as I did myself. This is not to say I did not have any happiness, because I did. My greatest love at this point in my life would have to be my running. I was a proud member of the track and cross-country team, a road racer and a marathon runner. I wasn’t a superstar of any sort, yet running helped to fill those empty spaces within me. Every time I went out for a three to ten mile run I had a short period of self-fulfilled happiness and peace. There was no one out there but myself to keep me moving on the road; every hill I passed was another accomplishment. When I was running I felt an inner peace and I believe in retrospect I felt God tying to rebuild self-esteem within me. It was towards the end of my first year in high school in which my past had once again come forward to repay me. Being hit by a car years ago had caused a cyst to form on my kneecap, which my doctors felt had to be removed and studied. This is no big deal except for the fact that I did not have any initiative to restart training afterwards, so what did I do? Stupidly, I started smoking cigarettes. As to be expected this ended my running career and my short stint at happiness. It was also in high school in which I formed relationships with four people who have affected my life and views on religion greatly: Jannie, Dan, Moe, and Carrie. Jannie and I were best friends until the end of my freshmen year of high school. Jannie and I were in love, not in the romantic way, but as friends and companions. It was because of our constant companionship that something stirred within me that started with my running, a hint of self-esteem and with it a return to wonder about God and my Jewish culture. Yet towards the end of the year I did something I would end up regretting for the rest of my life. Yet we must first speak of my meeting Dan and Moe. After Dan, Moe, and I were introduced we quickly became the “Three Amigos.” We did everything together, Dan and I started running together, we played basketball, all three of us talked constantly on the phone for hours, we went to movies, and we were continually together as a group. Yet we jealously fought for each other’s attention. Anytime Dan captured too much of Moe’s interest I had to grab it back, in any way I could. Remember, up to this point, except for Jannie, I had few to no friends, so when these steadfast companions came along I had to have their full attention. It was then that I hurt Jannie. Jannie was overweight and because of it many people, including Dan and Moe, teased her horribly. So I made the life-altering choice to end our friendship so I too can join in the “fun.” For the first time in my life I maliciously went out of my way to hurt somebody, and I succeeded with flying colors. Jannie and I never spoke to each other again. I regretted it from the moment I did it and it just once again fulfilled the self-building prophecy that this is just the way life is and I was a horrid individual. No wonder God hated me so much. Dan, Moe, and I continued to be friends until the end of my junior year, in which Moe and I decided to “x-out” our friendship with Dan. Moe’s reasons were different then mine, but for me I felt that there was an actual motive for the conclusion of our friendship. As I mentioned earlier, the three of us fought for the attention of each other. In my mind, it was really Dan and I who fought for Moe’s awareness. Dan’s way of waging this war was to tease and mercilessly make fun of me in public, and my self esteem being where it was, his remarks hurt more than I could possibly articulate. I felt that I was being beat up in the same way as I was in middle school. Though Dan begged and pleaded to be given a second chance, I gleefully ended that relationship. After all, here was my chance to repay all those bullies that had previously hurt me. So entering my senior year it finally became Moe and I as best friends, a relationship that continues up to this day. This breaking up of friendships was something I felt was just part of living, nothing good in life lasts long after all, especially love, happiness, friendship, or contentment. God treated me badly, so why should I not treat everybody else in the same manner I was? The final high school relationship that affected my life was with Carrie. My feelings towards her were the beginnings of emotions that later turned into one of the two worst psychological periods of my life. Carrie was in the class below me and for me the sun raised every time I saw her coming down the hallway and my heart broke every time I saw her with another guy. I thought I had found true love. Yet what was built in my head as love turned into obsession. As most adults know, some of the most painful emotions are those we first experience in our adolescence. My first understanding of love was that it was that it impossible for someone like me to be romantically appreciated by somebody else. Carrie and I went out a few times and I thought it was the greatest experiences of my life, yet for her we were just friends. This was no big deal except I could not let it go. I knew in my heart that God was once again punishing me for not being someone worthwhile. I started hating myself more than I despised God. |
College and Depression:
| | So I graduated high school in 1987 and moved on to college. Moe and I were still best friends, I was still obsessed with Carrie, and I still hated God and myself. Yet I started college with high hopes and a dream of breaking into radio broadcasting and letting my feelings for Carrie go. Attending the local community college I joined the school radio station and attempted to fulfill what I hoped to be my future career. Yet I quickly learned that I was only a mediocre broadcaster in a field filled with bright and talented individuals, Moe being one of them. At the same time I found myself jealous and envious of his natural talent and loathing myself for not being able to be as I wanted to be. It was a vicious circle that continued through college. Worse, I never let go of the obsessive feelings I had towards Carrie and I had hopes of telling her how I felt; yet I never did and this led to my feeling that I was a coward on top of everything else. The following year Moe and I attended Central Michigan University (CMU) two and half-hours away in Mt. Pleasant and roomed together in the dorms. Coed dormitories being what they are, with boys and girls being thrown together like a mixing bowl, we quickly made friendships with many other people. In fact, I quickly found myself with a girlfriend, a growing drug habit, and a never-ending stomachache. My friendship with Moe became solidified as we realized that so much of our lives were mirroring the others life. My girlfriend Merry was a new experience for me. I really did not have true romantic feelings for her, after all I still thought I loved Carrie; but with Merry I finally met someone who went out of their way to be near me. I just could not give that up. That’s when the drug usage started. I had experimented with marijuana and alcohol in high school, alcohol more than pot, yet it was here at CMU that I started smoking heavy. In retrospect the pot smoking was a self-medication I was giving to myself. You see, it was here, living in the dorms that I started experiencing continual stomach ailments like continual vomiting, nausea, diarrhea, and a general queasy feeling. I thought I was dying. Every time I ate, worked, or partied, or participated in any social activity, my stomach would revolt. At the time my illness was unknown, yet in the next few years it would be clear what my illness was. But at this point, with no knowledge of what was happening to me, I had to leave school to get medically checked out. This, of course, destroyed every bit of self-esteem I had left. God had once again punished me for being alive. I was being separated from the only friends I had and returned to the only safe house I had, my parents. So I returned home, physically sicker than ever before. It took me a week to just get out of bed. My doctors were unsure as to what was occurring with me, they thought that I possibly had hepatitis, yet the tests were inconclusive. So I continued living. I lived the next six months in a continual state of despair and depression, my mood and will to live falling deeper and deeper into a black hole. I wanted to die, yet was afraid of going to Hell, and this made me feel a greater coward for having that fear. In hopes of helping myself I sent Carrie a five-page letter explaining how I felt about her and begging her to give me a chance. Today, I feel terrible and remorseful for ever sending that letter; for now I know that my feelings were never romantic towards her other than my having a “crush.” That letter tore her emotionally apart. She was unsure if she was leading me on, if there was a romantic relationship she missed, or if I was just some freak. So we went out again and we both discovered how wrong we were for each other. That experience, which should have helped me out of depression, just threw me even deeper down the hole. Not because we did not end up together, but because I had hurt another person again. The depression continued through the summer until my mother finally told me of the family history of clinical and manic depression. I immediately found medical help through outpatient treatments, learned I had clinical depression, and after a period of trial and error on medications I started to feel myself returning to life. All my stomach ailments were due to anxiety, panic attacks, and food allergies. There is a great debate in psychology whether depression and anxiety is a chemical imbalance or a pure psychological disorder. I believe that depression is an imbalance of neurons, yet it is so much more. If we look into the definition of possession we will find that it means to be taken over by an outside source. I am not saying I was Linda Blair from the Exorcist, but I was possessed by inner demons not of my own design, which were impossible for me to control. Yes, I obviously did need therapy of some sort, yet once the proper medications were taken, it was as if my self-esteem started rebuilding immediately. I finally felt a miracle was done by God to help me; maybe I was wrong about Him all along. |
Drug-Induced Fantasy:
As I returned to sanity and life I quickly decided to stay at my parents and attend school locally. I felt I needed a safe location to gather myself and find peace. Yet what I found was a new friend and a hope of rebuilding harmony within myself and with God. I met Tony while working at a local restaurant, he was the cook and I was a waiter. We hit it off immediately and we quickly found common factors we both loved; fantasy books, Dungeons and Dragons, and smoking dope. Before I knew it we were playing D & D constantly and with it I found myself smoking more and more marijuana. It seemed right and I thought I was happy. I want to interject here on a subject that has nothing to do with religion, my emotions, or my friends; I want to talk about marijuana. Though it is not as physically addicting as heroin or crack-cocaine, marijuana, to me, is one of the most dangerous drugs in the world. Unlike hard-type drugs like heroin and crack-cocaine, which has obvious physical signs to show addiction, pot does not. It slowly, methodically, and with the greatest cunning changes our mentality of life. At first we may just have enjoyment of the artistic thought and of the peace of mind the pot brings. But slowly without us even knowing it, it will alter our desire to improve ourselves and worse it changes the way we hope to live in the future for it becomes impossible to complete anything we start. Pot literally becomes the future and we believe this is our own will, not the drugs or the addiction. I also think it important to mention that some people, very few actually, can smoke pot for long periods and just quit without any problem whatsoever. Tony was able to, he could quit anytime he wanted to without any physical or mental problems; I could not. So this is where I remained for years, living in fantasy and smoking pot. I also need to add that these deeds where not Tony’s doing or decision, but my own; these were my choices I made with free will. It was about halfway through this period of debauchery that one of my friends showed me something that changed me forever, the New Testament. Upon my first reading, several things happened to me all at once. First, I knew it instantly to be the truth; second, I knew that many people understood the Scripture incorrectly, for Jesus was a Jew and never stopped being so; third, I knew God wanted to save me from myself; and finally, I knew I had to get off the drugs. Yet, this was Christianity I was contemplating, the mere thought of it was the worst kind of betrayal against my family. The last thing I wanted to do was convert to a different religion, how could I dishonor my Bubby or my parents by doing that. I couldn’t, my fear of rejection was too great. God was an incorporable being and my family was real, so at the time there was no choice. Therefore, I chose to remain involved in fantasy and drugs. I even had the drug-induced fantasy that there may be many gods, an entire Pantheon of deities, and that they lived just like in D & D. This lifestyle continued to the mid-90’s. I attended several universities during this period in my life often switching schools after a single semester of attendance. Most of my courses were now based upon religion as I attempted to pick up as much knowledge on varying theology as possible. I took classes on the Old and New Testaments, Islam and Muslim cultures, Judaic studies, Christian studies, Greek and Norse Mythology, and a class on eastern philosophies. Every class just further proved to me the initial reactions I had to reading the New Testament. What I read was the truth and somehow I had to prove it to others. It seemed so obvious and I could not understand why everyone else could not see it to. |
The Truth:
Then something miraculous occurred through the death of another individual. While attending a funeral of a distant relative I met my cousin Matt. Matt was considered an enigma and an outcast of the family. Matt was a Messianic Jew. It was something I never heard of and I was instantly intrigued. Here was an actual Jew, living his life as a Jew, yet believing in Jesus. I learned that Jesus, his Hebrew name being Yeshua (Hebrew for Salvation), is the prophesied Jewish messiah. His mission was to save the Jews from themselves and then to bring Gentiles into the family. It was as if a cloud had opened and the sun finally had shone upon me, and I knew it to be all true. In my heart and my soul I finally found what I had been searching for, and I wasn’t alone. Matt told me there was an actual synagogue of fellow believers in Yeshua and that most of them were Jewish. I wanted to find out more about this, yet I was still trapped by that sense of betrayal. To listen to my aunts and uncles talk of Matt it was easy to learn that he was an ostracized member of the family, continually laughed at behind his back. They joked and told each other that Messianic Judaism and groups like Jews for Jesus were cults and that they believed Jesus was a homosexual. They said anything possible to degrade the belief in Yeshua as the Messiah and any Jews who believe in Him. To them they were no longer Jews, but Christians, outcasts, and traitors to the faith. I couldn’t go through being an outcast myself; my family was the only refuge I had. But the calling of the Lord was strong and I wanted to know the truth so I told my folks I was just going to check out the services for educational purposes and I went to synagogue the following Sabbath. What I found shocked me and filled me with joy. There in the sanctuary of a Baptist church I found Congregation Shema Yisrael (Hear O’ Israel); a group of Jews and Gentiles who believe Yeshua is the prophesied Jewish Messiah and the Savior of mankind. I walked in, sat in the back row and watched. What I saw was a synagogue service filled with song and prayer towards Adonai (the Lord) and His Son Yeshua. The congregation’s leader, Rabbi Loren Jacobs, spoke with eloquence and confidence that moved me greatly. I will admit I was a little nervous at sight of the tambourines, for they put me in mind of the cult warnings I was given, but the message was clear. Belief in Yeshua is not and was never meant to be a Gentile religion alone, but the belief is a Jewish one altered to fit Gentiles. Yeshua, Peter (Kefa), John the Baptist (Yochanan the Immerser), and even Paul (Sha’ul) were all Orthodox Jews practicing Judaism. It wasn’t until over 75 years after the death and resurrection of Yeshua that the Jewish rites were being eradicated. Being eradicated by men, not by divine will. I soaked in everything I could from that service, I even had a meal with the Rabbi afterwards and then I took my leave. I remained absent for years. |
Self-Love, Love, and Forgiveness:
I left Congregation Shema Yisrael finally knowing the truth, knowing that Yeshua is the true and only Messiah of the Lord Almighty and that He was sent by His Father to save each of us from our sins and ourselves. Yet now I had a huge job in front of me, I had to prove what I believed, and thus began my study of the Bible. I read Bible translations of every sort: the King James, the New English Revised, the New American Standard, the New International, the Amplified, the New Jerusalem, the Hebrew TANAKH, the Revised Standard, I even read a copy of the Douay Catholic Bible translated from the original Latin Vulgate in 1582. It was essential that I learn which one of these Bibles was the most accurate and the best copy of the original Codex’s. After finishing the Bibles I started reading the other religious materials available like the Gnostics including the Apocrypha and the Gospels of Thomas and Phillip; I also studied the Dead Sea Scrolls, and a small section from the Jewish Talmud. After these I started into the secular histories of the Jewish historian Josephus. What I found was simple; there was nothing, nothing, to disprove anything of what the New Testament says, there are only recorded events that prove what took place. There was a Yeshua, thousands of practicing Jews witnessed with their own eyes miracles being performed, and that Yeshua was followed and believed to be the Messiah by tens of thousands of Jews including many Essenes, Pharisees and members of the Sanhedrin council, as well as many of the Levites, priests, scribes, and rabbis. There is no question that He was crucified on the first day of Passover and that His body was found missing on the Feast of First Fruits (Easter Sunday). These facts are indisputable, even the Jewish Talmud substantiates them. Isn’t it remarkable that nothing has ever been scientifically or historically disproved from the Old or New Testaments? For example, scientists argued for years that there was never an ancient Amorite civilization. Guess what? In the late 1990’s an archaeologist discovered the ruins of an Amorite city. Or take a look at the findings released in October of 2002, where the bones of James, Yeshua’s brother were recovered from Jerusalem. For centuries, people have argued against the stories of David, Solomon and Elijah. Yet, a recent Time Magazine article substantiates the claim on the existence of the Queen of Sheba from the stories of King Solomon. For me, it is astounding that more Jews do not believe in their Messiah, yet we are taught not to, not because of facts or evidence, but because of the emotions involved. My emotions ruled me for my entire life, whether it was through obsession, depression, or drugs. I lived by what my emotions told me, not by the evidence at hand. If I had looked at the evidence I would have seen the truth about my feelings towards Carrie or the fantasy that marijuana had put me in. It seems that if I had done this religious study years before, I would have found the truth then; and I believe, the peace I was searching for. It is my perception that many people will feel that I believe in Yeshua for the wrong reasons. I can easily see my family members who learn of my views through this writing that I only believe what I do because my parents never raised me to practice Judaism. Others may feel that I only believe what I do to fill the “void” left by the usage of drugs and my fight with depression. I can see even others thinking my beliefs are based upon a judgment decision to compromise with my wife’s beliefs. I hope everyone will understand that my views and beliefs are based upon evidence. I refuse to believe in something just because I am told that’s the way it is. That is exactly the way I thought throughout my youth and look where that led. We may not like the truth that stands before us, but it doesn’t change it. I feel that many Jews refuse to even read the New Testament because to do so shows a possibility that we were wrong. We were! Look at it this way, every single time a prophet emerged in Israel his brethren have disputed him. Even the greatest prophets like Moses and Elijah were misunderstood for years. I am not going to spend tons of paper to preach the evidence to you, at least not in this chapter. Find out for yourself, the evidence is there. All I ask is for you to give it a chance, an objective chance. Read the New Testament; start with the Book of Matthew. He was writing to his fellow Jews, not to the Gentiles. In fact, all the Gospels are attempting to reach Jews. Paul’s letters where written for the Gentiles (with the exception of Hebrews, which is also for Jews), but do not misunderstand their purpose. Romans and Galatians, the two letters I feel are the most confusing, is not degrading Judaism; it is simply saying that the Gentiles do not need to become Jews to be believers. Why should an individual from Japan or Australia have to be circumcised to believe? All you must do is accept the truth in your heart. The letters are often considered to be stating that we no longer have to follow the Torah or the Law. This is not what it says! It says we cannot be saved by it for no one has ever fulfilled the Torah perfectly except for Yeshua, not even Moses did. Yet just because we cannot be perfect beings does not mean we should give up being the best people we can. It does not mean we should give up trying to perform Torah to the best of our ability. To do so would be childish and selfish and not living in the spirit that the Torah tells us to. |
Business and Meetings:
So now I found myself in the year 1996. My drug usage had escalated from a social activity to a solitary one. I began living my life through a dugout, a small smokeless pipe used for single hits of weed. Everyday, I would put on a front of normalcy to others, and remember, by this point I was already quite a proficient liar, so no one had any idea of what was occurring. For the most part, between my daily medications and my drug usage I was remaining emotionally numb, yet still functional. I was still living in a world of D & D and refusing to move past my usage of drugs. In my heart I knew two things clearly: first, I knew that I could not betray my family and express my beliefs in Yeshua; and second, I knew it would be wrong for me to accept God while still using drugs. So life continued. It was at this point that another major event took place. My dad’s business partner, whom I was employed with, and my dad messily broke their business dealings and each went there own way. My dad who is and always has been a successful commercial photographer started his own small business working with digital photography. I was given a choice by my dad’s partner, to stay with him or leave with my dad. To me there was no choice, after all if I chose my folks over God, what decision needed to me made between a guy I really never liked and my family. So my dad and I started working together and for a month or so it was perfect. Yet soon after we started the firm, my dad had a mishap in surgery while having his lower spine fused and he was unable to return to work for a long, long time. So I jumped in and took over. It felt great to be in charge of the business, and for retail sales it was easy. But without my father being involved the commercial business started to die out and the business started falling in debt. Somehow I kept the business afloat and paying most of its bills, albeit some of them were being paid late, we remained open for business. Unfortunately, by the time he returned three severe problems existed: first, we were so far in debt it was beginning to be impossible to work with our vendors; second, our commercial clients continued to slowly leave our firm; and third, the authority I had went to my head. So when my father came back to work I started fighting with his return to authority. It was stupid and a waste of energy; my concentration should have remained on saving the business, yet I felt that since I had saved the business, I should be an official part of the corporation. Regardless of how I felt, the business started to die. So in conference with an attorney we decided to open a new business with myself as the corporation’s president and owner. So now we had a man already with a superiority complex being thrust to an even higher role in authority. My self-esteem was now higher than ever before; here I was actually running a business myself. Yet, I continued to make a huge error in my head, for the business was never mine except in legal terms. This led to huge misunderstandings and arguments between my parents and I and it eventually led to my leaving the corporation and finding new work. For a while my parents and I stopped talking too each other all together. |
Life and Peace:
One of the top events in my life took place just before the business fell apart. This was when I met Kolleen (pronounced K’leen). This meeting actually took place through the break up of an old friendship and the ensuing will to change my life. You see, I had a close friend helping me at the company when my father was absent and when his employment did not work out things became disastrous. The firing of this friend was not what can be called a cordial event; we simply never spoke to each other ever again. But the experience made me feel that I had to make some changes in my life. I knew I couldn’t change my feelings towards God or my daily usage of pot smoking, so I changed what I could, namely my social life. I joined a dating service and I quickly found myself paired with a woman named Kolleen. As, one of the top automobile sales people in the nation; Kolleen had an extremely high level of self-esteem and I was instantly intrigued. Yet by our second or third date, I also began to sense a form of complexity between her strength of character and her emotional vulnerability; and I was attracted. We began to see more and more of each other and as we did my self-esteem grew to new levels. Without her ever being aware of it, she aided me in my confidence in myself. She knew some of my darkest and worst kept secrets and she still wanted to be with me. Yet Kolleen helped me in a way that was unexpected. She helped me realize who I wanted to be, not in the terms of a career or physically, but with my drug usage and with my connection to God and Yeshua. She knew of my messianic beliefs and how I felt about God. She helped me to understand that it wasn’t betrayal to my family to believe; it was a start to save them. Think of it this way. Say you have a family and you have an alcohol abuse problem. Would you not want to save your children from the same type of suffering that you now experience? In the same way, I feel my family members who have died and passed on to Sheol (Hades), now know the truth of Messiah and the way to Salvation. Out of love don’t you think that they would want better for their loved ones? I do and that is what Kolleen taught me without her ever saying a word. Kolleen also taught me that I needed to stop smoking dope. She helped me to understand that living with pot was causing more problems then I ever experienced without it. So I stopped cold turkey. In my mind it would be betrayal to continue smoking. It would be a betrayal to her and betrayal to Yeshua. I have not returned to marijuana once since. The mere thought of smoking terrifies me. All I have to do is remember what the first two weeks of quitting felt like, not to mention the guilt I lived with every day. Those are days and a lifestyle I never want to return to, and I never will; I simply would rather die than betray another again. I have spent so much of my life in a drug-induced fantasy of make believe, drugs, lies, and an overpowering sense of betraying my own family for my beliefs. It is not worth it. So I did the best thing I ever did in my life, I surrendered to Yeshua. The next Sabbath I returned to Congregation Shema Yisrael and Rabbi Loren Jacobs. I felt I was returning home. Surprisingly, he remembered my situation and he helped me understand many of the missing pieces. With my return to the Congregation my research in Bible study, Bible accuracy, and my studies of the different belief systems of both Judaism and Christianity intensified. As my theological knowledge increased a new desire arose in me, I wanted to be reborn into the Kingdom of God. Simply put, I wanted to be Immersed or Baptized. Bringing my feelings to Rabbi Loren he proved his true merit and calling by telling me no. He would not baptize me, at least not yet. Immersion was something that should only be undertaken after a careful analysis has been made of one’s soul. To use another analogy, I once went to the Colorado mountains with my family. Visiting a mountain lake I instantly noticed a boat rental facility offering tourists small sailboats to enjoy on the lake. After paying the fee I was told by the sailing guides that if I wanted to venture out into the waters I should probably get some instructions first. Yet I was not there for instructions, I was there to sail; so I sailed without waiting for any directions. Well, I got across that lake faster than many racecars probably could, but you know what? I had no idea how to return against the wind and I spent much of the day on that shore waiting for someone to pick me up. I believe that is exactly what Rabbi Loren did for me by telling me to wait being Immersed. Wait until I was instructed, not by him so to speak, but through my own soul searching with the aid of the Holy Spirit. Personally, I believe anyone who thinks Congregation Shema Yisrael is a cult looking for unsuspecting Jews is a fool. I was not brainwashed or rushed into anything, I was told specifically to think for myself and to evaluate my beliefs time and again. Time passed and Kolleen and I were married on October 2, 1999. This was the second best day of my entire life. Kolleen and I are perfect together; we are so much alike and different enough to allow our idiosyncrasies to compliment each other. Sure we may get on each other’s nerves once in awhile, but that is only natural. I love her a little more each and every day. The best day of my life occurred almost one year later on a sunny day in Brighton, Michigan, August 12, 2000. This was when Kolleen and I were Immersed together by Rabbi Loren, witnessed by my dear mother-in-law and many of the Congregation’s members. The feelings I experienced emerging from the waters are indescribable, unlike anything else I ever experienced. I physically felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest; spiritually I felt… Him, God, Yeshua. I cried, I couldn’t have stopped it if I wanted to. For the first time in my entire life my soul was 100% at peace without pain, guilt, nausea, anxiety, depression, or anything else negative. I felt the peace only He can bring and I love Him more than anything else in this universe for that tranquility He brought me that day. So that leads us to today. After telling my parents about my Baptism I promised I would never preach to them about Yeshua. Verbally I may never do so. Yet to be honest that is the real reason for these writings. My great aunt, my Bubby’s sister, died without me having the courage to try and save her from what I believe to be a judgment of eternal damnation. I cannot stand by and watch this for anyone else. Ezekiel 33 speaks of the watchman. Simply put, if my family and friends died condemned and they knew the truth before passing on it is there own fault. But if they were to die and they were never even told the truth, well, that is my fault. I spent too much of my life in guilt over the pain I have caused others, too long over pain I felt I caused for myself. No more. Open you hearts. Be objective. Read this testimony, and then figure it out for yourselves. Don’t believe something just because you are told that is the way it is and the way it always will be. The truth shall set us free. |
TESTIMONY ENDS AT THE YEAR OF 2001, but SANCTIFICATION CONTINUES!!!!!!!!
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