Although we were officially married November 10, 2010, we weren’t able to have our actual wedding ceremony for close family and friends until nearly a year later (October 16, 2011).
Mercedes and I realize that watching a video is no substitute for the real thing, but we hope you’ll enjoy this short wedding trailer of our special day. For those of you who were able to join us, thank you for sharing in our “dream come true” day. We love you and appreciate you all so much!
I woke up on Sunday morning (May 23rd) to the sound of my door buzzer at 8am. It was one of the Sheriffs from the Frederick County Police Department. Ever since I spoke rudely to him about a year ago for banging on my door at 6:30am, I’ve worked hard to be as polite as possible with him. After all, he was just the messenger. I’m sure he’s not a bad guy. He just needed to comply with his requirements to check and see if I still lived at my current address. But the thing I’ve noticed is that he’s been showing up more frequently this past year. Way more than he ever did back in 2006 when I got out of prison. Four years later, and the intensity has only increased.
Leonidas, King of Sparta, kills the Persian messenger out of anger
I said a quick prayer after answering the buzzer, and then fell back asleep. I wasn’t going to let this ruin my day.
When I came back from church that afternoon, I checked my mail. It had been a couple of days since I had checked last. When I opened up the mailbox, there was a single letter propped up diagonally, waiting to be picked. It was plump, and didn’t feel like a bill.
I didn’t recognize the return address, but in red lettering it marked:
URGENT: New law affects YOU!
Immediately my heart started to race. I double checked the return address to see if it was from the police department. It wasn’t.
I wedged my finger between the fold and aggressively opened the letter, intently reading the document as I blindly walked up the three flights of stairs. The first paragraph opened with,
On May 5, Governor O’Malley signed legislation into law that will drastically impact your life. The law takes effect on October 1, 2010. We summarize the worst aspects of the new law below.
I felt light-headed as I pressed on, debating whether or not I could even bare to even keep reading. I’m not sure what I was feeling at the moment. Angry, desolate, hopeless, condemned, depressed, hatred, scared…they all took turns playing imaginary conversations in my head. I couldn’t decide whose voice I sided with more.
It took me three or four times to read through the eight page letter just to make sure I didn’t miss a beat. I kept hoping I would find a clause in there that absolved me in some way. I never found it. What I did find, however, was plenty of reform that did in fact affect me.
Apparently, there were 84 bills in all that targeted sex offenders this past January, and although many of them were stopped, most of them were not.
Needle
ss to say, I sat on my couch with tears streaming down my face for the rest of the day. I literally felt nauseous at the thought that I would be on stricter provisions than when I was on probation for a period of three years after being released from prison. I was just starting to feel like this part of my life was behind me. Instead, the “Adversary” (or Satan) had been working behind the scenes to sabotage my hope and joy, quickly pushing me back into my prison cell of condemnation.
I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to disappear. No one understood how hopeless I felt. Not even my closest friends or even my sister. What was the point in reform? What was the point in following Christ and living for Him if there was nothing to gain?
I didn’t really believe that those things were pointless of course, but admittedly those thoughts ran through my head, and I cried out to God while on my hands and knees, begging for Him to save me from my own self-destruction. I was reaching my breaking point.
The next morning, I literally yelled at myself to get out of bed. I’m not one to talk to myself like some crazy person, but I just didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t going to lose this battle, not without a fight.
I made my way to the living room couch to have my daily time with God. My eyes were still puffy from the day before and I didn’t feel like reading the bible, but I knew I had to. I didn’t want to be a hypocrite since I’m always telling my Lifegroup to “press on and be disciplined in reading your bible even when you don’t feel like it”. I’m glad I’ve been telling them this for the past year…because it reminded me that I needed to heed my own advice.
I had been reading the book of Daniel for the past week, and that morning, I had come across Chapter 6 – Daniel in the Lion’s Den. And even though I knew the story well enough to recite it to someone who wasn’t familiar, I had no idea what God was about to reveal to me. I would encourage you to read it in full.
There were several things that jumped out to me, and I broke down with tears of joy as I read it. This was a message for ME. God was speaking to me through this passage, and it was no coincidence that I was reading it for perhaps the first time in my life. I had always heard the story told, but never read it for myself. Here’s what I learned:
rom the bottom of society as a slave, to the second most powerful man over a kingdom. Jealous of his power and position, governmental authorities plotted against him and influenced laws that they knew would affect righteous people like Daniel. (see Daniel 6:1-9) How did this speak to me? Political figures are often corrupted by their desire for power. As a result, they will occasionally create laws that are not in the best interests of the general public, but are rather suited to serve their own agendas. Don’t get me wrong, who wants sexual predators unmonitored on the streets right? However, the reality is that these increasingly harsher laws are doing nothing to solve the problem. The fact is that it’s not quite as rampant a problem as the media would make it out to believe. (see my post: Seat’s Taken for stats on sex offender recidivism)
dvised him to put a law into effect, he blindly trusted their authority without paying much attention to the implications of the new law. If he had he taken the time to think it through, he likely would not have followed through on creating such a destructive law because it would have affected his most trusted adviser and friend. (Daniel 6:9, 14)
Instead, these laws will simply become dormant and overlooked, but they are still there for prosecution if someone decides to follow the letter of the law. Chances are, you have broken dozens of laws and weren’t even aware of it.The laws have been established…often by misguided individuals. These laws often do not consider the far reaching implications and ramifications – nor do many people care. And in some cases, there are political pundits that are simply looking to take an aggressive stand on an issue that they know will win popularity. They are not seeking to put these laws in effect for any other reason than their own political careers. Similarly, “the royal administrators, prefects, satraps, advisers and governors have all agreed that the king should issue an edict and enforce the decree” (verse 7) because they were jealous of Daniel’s power and influence. So they set out to bring him down in order for their own gain.
When we cry out to God and share with Him our pains, He hears us. As a caring father, he cares about the pains we go through and won’t allow us to go through trials without a purpose. I LOVE how He spoke to me through this Word. I don’t know if you can see how God spoke to me through this Word or not, but for me, it was another example of His love, grace, mercy, and His living power. I am continually reminded of the promise of Romans 8:28 that states that “all things work together for the good of those who love Him”, but here’s another promise that He has given me:
Because you got a double dose of trouble and more than your share of contempt, Your inheritance in the land will be doubled and your joy go on forever. (Isaiah 61:7, The Message)
So I say BRING IT Satan! The more you bring, the more I will inherit!
College was a unique experience, or depending on who you’re asking, maybe not so “unique”.
The transition from high school to college was a big one. I went from being a big fish in a small pond, to being a small fish in a big pond. I was no longer one of the smart kids at school. I had become “average” overnight. I received my first “F” on an exam in the history of my educational career, and received my first “C” and eventually “D” for a class, which was a HUGE blow to my confidence. And all of that was happening while studying harder than I had ever studied IN MY LIFE.
From an athletic standpoint, despite my being labeled as the #1 recruit for Bucknell’s soccer team, I found myself sitting on the bench faster than I could lace up my cleats. The athletes were bigger, faster, and meaner than I had ever seen. Division I was no joke. I didn’t know people could shoot so hard.
And then there was the social scene…
High school was great. I made First Team All-State despite Frederick High School’s notoriety for being brawlers, not soccer players. I was in the top 10% of our class academically, taking AP classes galore. I was in tight with our principal, and had plenty of attention from a popularity standpoint. To illustrate the point, for homecoming my junior year in high school, I found myself in a situation where my best friend and I were interested in the same girl. Unbeknownst to each other’s proposals, we had both asked her to the dance. It was only a matter of time before we found out of each other’s mutual interest in her, and when she was slow to make a decision on who she was going to choose, we decided to drop her, and instead take four of the hottest girls we could find as our dates. We succeeded.
But when I got to Bucknell, that whole landscape had changed.
I was a nobody.
I had to rediscover myself all over again. For some people, this was a blessing. For me, it was a curse. For those who were a nobody in high school, they had the opportunity to become somebody because they had a clean slate. But for me, I had to reprove myself all over again. And my entire freshman year was about reproving myself to others, as well as to myself.
Then I had my big break. One day, my RA (resident assistant) came up to me and personally invited me to a big party his fraternity was hosting. It was one of their biggest parties of the year – Hawaiian Night. And this wasn’t just any fraternity…this was THE fraternity, and they had a reputation for having the best parties with the hottest chicks. Anybody who was somebody got invited to their events. I quickly called up my buddies from the soccer team to see if they had been invited as well. A few of them had.
The night of the party, we all got ready together while listening to music in our dorm rooms. We were excited and nervous at the same time – it was a rush.
You could hear the life of the party as we neared the fraternity house. The line was long, but we waited with anticipation as we heard the pounding woofers blaring from the house. And as we got closer and closer to the doorstep, we could feel our hearts pounding out of our shirts in sync with the beat.
Get out!
You’re not on the F’in list!
We all looked up with bewilderment as we watched a group of guys getting denied at the door. Ryan, Rob, and I looked at each other in terror as we watched several fraternity brothers crowd around as bouncers, practically pushing the kids off of the porch.
Would we be on the list? Of course we would…we were personally invited by Justin who was secretary of the house. But what if we weren’t? The three of us started to panic.
What’s your name?
One by one, the three of us gave our names as we watched intensely as he scanned down his tablet of sacred names, hoping to have our name scratched off the list. He flipped the page…still no sign of our names. He flipped another page…still no names. And when he reached the end of the list, he looked up and said politely,
Sorry guys. You’re not on the list. We don’t know you.
In a last ditch effort to reclaim our night, we protested by explaining how we were invited by Justin. “He’s my RA!”. It didn’t matter though. The list was the list, and they didn’t make exceptions (at least not for freshmen guys).
Having witnessed the scene moments before, we decided to leave quickly and quietly. We didn’t want to make matters worse than they already were. So we kicked rocks as we walked back to our dorms, venting and vowing that we would never be like that one day – JERKS!
But as I read Matthew 7:21-23 and prepared our Lifegroup for this study, I couldn’t help but think about my experience in college.
“Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!'”
– Matthew 7:21-23
I can just see myself now…
“but God…I led a Lifegroup for years, and I volunteered all the time for our church. I attended every church service I could attend…and I even raised my hands when I worshiped. Anyone will tell you, I have a great reputation – they know I love you. They’ve even told me how inspired they were by my passion for you…Remember? I was even on the big screen promoting Axis Young Adults for our church during Easter weekend! How can you say you don’t know me?”
It’s a scary thought…to get to the door of eternal life and find out you’re not on the list. It’s scary to think that I could be that guy who thought he was on the list, but God will say
I never knew you.
Away from me, you evildoers!
That’s the christian way of saying, “Get off of my F’in porch!”
Ouch!
Tuesday night’s message was a good reminder that we shouldn’t get too comfortable in thinking we are good to go.
In a message to the church in Sardis (Revelation 3:1-6), they are reminded and warned of the consequences for faking their faith. They may have started out on fire and passionate…and that’s probably where they developed a “reputation of being alive”; but the reality was that they were actually dead in their faith.
This week, I came across this video by Francis Chan, and it was hilariously yet frighteningly on point with how we view ourselves and our calling in life. Is it possible that this group of people is who God was talking to when He said “you are dead”?
Are these “Christians” faking it? Do you or I ever “fake” our Christianity?
Consider this – there are times when we have to fake it. For example, we may not “feel” like worshiping God one day, so we don’t want to raise our hands in worship. Do it anyway. We may not “feel” like praying for weeks at a time. Do it anyway. We may not want to serve and help others in need. Do it anyway.
Fake it till you make it.
The statement doesn’t just read, “Fake it”…there’s a second half of that statement that is vital…”till you make it”. Being authentic in your faith doesn’t mean that you don’t do things you don’t feel like doing…it often means that you do.
Do you ever feel like your life is spinning out of control and God can’t get there quick enough to save the day? Ever wonder why God hasn’t shown up yet, or wonder if He is even planning to show up?
I’m starting to shift my thinking. That is how I used to feel but now I’m really beginning to appreciate how God works. His timing is perfect!
… If it seems slow in coming, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed.
Habakkuk 2:3
GOD is so on point!
This week’s Lifegroup was a testament to that fact. It was a breakthrough night for the United Nations Frederick.
You see, for a while now, I’ve been feeling that we’ve reached a bit of a plateau, so I started taking a deeper look into our group. When I started doing that, I started sensing that we haven’t been paying much attention to our own “gardens” lately, but I didn’t know how to address that to the group. Do I tackle it head on? Do I run the risk of offending people by showing them what I see? Do I let it go and just hope the problems go away? I didn’t know what to do.
Then, God answered my prayer by speaking through pastor Dale’s message this past weekend. He talked about identifying weeds in our life that will ultimately choke out our plant from being fruitful (Mark 4:7). It was the confirmation I needed to move forward, and it gave me a framework to address this issue AGGRESSIVELY, just like we should be aggressive about pulling weeds from our gardens. I don’t believe it was a coincidence that the “Watch out for weeds” sermon came at the time that it did.
We were in desperate need of gardening.
God used Tuesday night to speak to us individually about the weeds in our lives. Here are the weeds that people identified:
Then we took that a step further, and we talked about the weeds that are growing in our “Lifegroup garden”. Has our Lifegroup (plant) been choking and has its ability to bear fruit been affected as a results of weeds that have been growing in our garden?
Our group was quick to identify a prevalent weed:
It’s ironic, because this is the one “weed” that our group had prided ourselves on not having. What initially drew people to our group was our warmth, our openness, and our welcoming atmosphere. But somehow, over time, we have become a clique. Even within our own group, cliques have formed.
It just goes to show that in the same way that weeds grow fast in a real garden, and it’s a constant process of keeping your garden free of weeds, we must constantly assess our spiritual health by pulling weeds from our life, even if we think we don’t have them. We almost always do – sometimes even the same types of weeds we’ve pulled before.
It was an intense night for us all. We were all convicted on some level. But as we identified and confessed our weeds to each other, burdens were lifted, hearts were softened, and love prevailed. There is no doubt that God’s presence was felt that night.
Praise God for intervening and convicting us ALL and softening our hearts to hear His message.
Think twice. Those things grow faster than you think…and they are more destructive than you could imagine. What weeds do you have in your life?
He struck again.
I was just about to pull out of my neighborhood when I saw the dark unmarked “Commander” zooming down the road in my direction from the left hand side. I had one of those split second conversations in my head, trying to determine whether or not I should pull out in front, or if I should just let him go first.
My car jerked to a stop as I waited patiently for the officer to drive by. Although I couldn’t be sure, I was fairly certain it was my “good friend” MD State Trooper, officer Sasse.
I turned my head to the side, hoping he wouldn’t recognize my face in a new car. I had just bought a new (black) sports car two months prior, and was hoping to go unnoticed by him for as long as possible.
I nearly turned right after he passed, but at the last second, decided to turn left and take a loop around the neighborhood before making my way to work. The last time I pulled in behind him from this very spot, he decided to pull me over for an illegal window tint (which was actually the legal Maryland limit of 35%).
The truth is this time, I hadn’t affixed the front tag onto the bumper yet, and I didn’t want to give this guy any reason to pull me over.
I bought myself about five minutes as I looped around the neighborhood. When I got onto 144, the “Commander” was no where to be seen. Traffic was unusually dense though.
I was on the phone with my buddy Curt, talking him through the events that just occurred. Then, as I came down the hill over the ridge, I saw him parked in the Park & Ride. He was out of his car, placing what looked to be tickets on cars that were for sale in the lot.
Oh my gosh! There he is!
I exclaimed to Curt as I desribed was Officer Sasse was doing.
It was at that moment that Officer Sasse looked up in my direction. It was as if he heard me from within my car, about 100 yards away.
Could he have seen me? Did he recognize me? I reasoned with myself that it was not likely, especially since I was driving a new car. Besides, he couldn’t possibly have recognized me from that far away. I was just being paranoid.
Traffic was a crawl, and by the time I got closer to the light, it had turned red.
I’m not sure what compelled me to turn my head to the right at that moment, but when I did, I noticed the front of an unmarked car that was lurking behind some trees that divided the road I was on with the Park & Ride.
What the crap! Is that him? How in the world could that be him? I just saw him out of his car 30 seconds ago!
Curt was just listening to my rants as I communicated my observations. I slowly turned my head back to the traffic in front of me, hoping not to draw attention to myself.
Moments later, the “Commander” pulled out from behind the trees and zoomed ahead in the right hand lane that would ordinarily spit him out onto I-70 going eastbound.
I’m either being paranoid, and he didn’t see me, or he’s just zoomed by getting ready to pull me over up ahead.
The traffic light seemed longer than usual. From what I could tell, the light had turned green, but the cars in front of me weren’t moving. Break lights started flickering, and the cars in front began to crawl. As I inched forward, I realized why.
Officer Sasse had parked his car and gotten out of his vehicle to start waving cars, one-by-one, through the traffic light. When he got to my car, he pointed at me with his accusing finger and waved me to pull over behind his car.
Well, you’re not going to believe this Curt, but he just pulled me over.
Good morning officer. How are you doing?
I said with as pleasant a voice as I could muster up.
I’m working.
I muzzled an “I can see that” under my breath as I reached for my license and registration.
“I noticed you didn’t have your front tags” he said in his smug tone.
“I’m really sorry about that officer” I said. “I just bought this car recently and the previous owner didn’t have the front tag affixed. I’ve been meaning to install it, but admittedly, it just hasn’t been much of a priority for me. I’m really sorry about that. It’s actually in the trunk, and if you have a screwdriver, I would be happy to put it on for you right now if you’d like”
“Can you show me that it’s in your trunk” he asked. No doubt he was hoping to catch me in a lie.
“Absolutely. Let me show you.” With that, I got out of my car, popped my trunk, and pulled out the bracket with plate.
“Hold on.” Officer Sasse took my bracket, license and registration with him to his car and started his routine. I called the Benz to alert her of my misfortune and asked for prayer.
Officer Sasse came back with a fine of $60. “MVL #13-411 (a) “Fail to Attach Plates at Front & Rear”.
I let him run through his spiel about the ticket and fine and right to go to court, and when he was finished, he asked if I had any questions.
Have you heard of Church of the Redeemer? You should check it out sometime.
Officer Sasse looked at me kind of funny (or at least with a little pause), and then he referred back to the ticket as if I had never said anything.
I’m being serious. I would love to have you come check out Church of the Redeemer with me sometime.
This time, he was more equipped for my comment.
We’re not talking about that.
I clearly wasn’t getting through. So I tried a different approach.
Sir, I just don’t understand why you have the need to pull me over repeatedly for stupid things. I don’t think it’s commonplace to pull the same person over on the same road multiple times within the span of a few months.
Eager to jump in say something important, officer Sasse responded with a,
Well actually, there’s this one guy who I’ve pulled over 5 or 6 times within that same time frame. I don’t know what his problem is. But anyway…
I was slightly caught off guard. I bit my lip as I refrained from muttering a “maybe his problem is YOU” comment.
The thing is (I continued), I don’t understand what you have against me. I know it’s not common to be pulled over for these types of things. But it’s clear that you have a thing for giving me a hard time.
I could tell he didn’t like where I was going with this.
I’m not giving you a hard time. I’ve seen a history of these registration violations, and that’s why I’m pulling you over. When you turned right out of your neighborhood, and when I looked in my rear view mirror, I noticed that you didn’t have a front tag. That’s why I pulled you over.
What a liar! Unbelievable. I wasn’t going to let him go that easy. In as calm a voice as I could muster, I said,
Sir, I never turned a right out of my neighborhood. I turned a left. So you couldn’t have seen me in your rear view mirror to notice that I didn’t have a license plate on the front. I realize that I screwed up this time with not having a front tag, but as I told you, I just bought this car and…
A play by play of the Officer Sasse's hunt
Officer Sasse cut in again,
Yeah. I noticed you had a new car when I drove by you. I saw you were on the phone, and I thought to myself, ‘looks like he got a new car’.
This was my chance to bring the point home.
You see. That’s the point. You weren’t concerned about my tag, you just wanted to give me a hard time. You recognized me in a new car, and you jumped at the opportunity to pull me over. But for what? I know you’re technically just doing your job, but I know you have more important things to be doing than pull me over all the time.
I’m being serious, you should really come check out my church sometime. Seriously.
As those words came out of my mouth, I could hear the tone. It wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t quite the message I was trying to convey.
I have a church that I go to” he said.
I jumped in. “That’s great! Where do you go?”
I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about this ticket. If you would like to contest this fine, you have a right to take me to court.
I was losing him. He was missing my point. Or maybe he was just trying to avoid it.
I got it” I said. Maybe I will take you to court, or maybe I won’t, and I’ll just pay the fine. But listen, the reason I keep bringing up my church is this. If you actually knew me…if you actually took the time to get to know me, you would find that I’m not the guy you think I am. I know that you see my criminal background, and you don’t like it. To be honest, I don’t like it either. But there’s nothing I can do about that right now. What I am doing is trying to make things right.
If you came to my church, I think you would have an opportunity to actually see me for who I really am. I’m pretty involved and I actually lead a small group of people my age in bible studies. That’s why I keep bringing it up. All I’m asking for is a little grace. There’s no need to keep fining me for little things. I’m sure you have a screwdriver in your car. I would be more than happy to put that tag on the bumper right now and get this over with.
With an emotionless, stoic expression he said, “You can take care of that once you get to work.”
He wasn’t budging. I was getting that ticket, and there was no question about it. “Listen. I meant what I said. I would strongly encourage you to come check out my church some time.”
With that, he walked away from my car and went his way.
It’s ironic. This past week I taught on Contentment, no matter where you are in life, and no matter what comes your way. Looks like I’m having to heed my own advice and sermon.
To be honest, I don’t think this guy is going to let up. Some people say that maybe he actually took pause that day to reconsider his actions. Call me a pessimist, but I don’t think it did much of anything. But I am starting to view this whole harassment-by-a-Maryland-State-Trooper-who-lives-in-my-neighborhood thing as a witnessing opportunity. Maybe he will never come to my church. Maybe he’ll never see me in the light that the people who know me see me. But maybe, over the course of a dozen fines and tickets, he’ll come to know Christ for the very first time in his life.
Thank you God for this opportunity (I’m not being facetious).
In the spring of 1996, I was heavily entrenched in a “life stage” transition from high school to college. My mom and I were traveling up and down the east coast for soccer recruiting trips to figure out where I would be spending the next four years of my life.
Penn State, UPenn, Tufts, St. Mary’s, Maryland, Lehigh, Colgate, Bucknell…these were a few of the places that were scouting me for soccer. They were a range of schools. Some were big (100,000 students), while some were small (1,200). Some were highly recognized for their academia, while others were acclaimed for their sports programs. Some were Division III programs, and some were Division I. Some were offering scholarships, and others were offering a warm hand. But what they all had in common was that they were claiming to want ME.
I had been accepted to every program (over a dozen) except for one. My heart was set on UPenn, but they were claiming that I needed 20 more points on my SAT’s in order for them to get me in. At the time, Penn State and Maryland were top tier Division I soccer programs, but I knew that if I went to play for them, I would likely sit the bench. They wouldn’t even guarantee that I would make the team.
In the end, it came down to two schools – Lehigh and Bucknell. It was a great feeling to know they were fighting over me. They had both claimed that I was their #1 recruit, and they were both Division I programs. They weren’t a top 20 program for soccer, but at least I would be starting as their goalkeeper. Academically speaking, they were on par with each other, and while they weren’t technically an Ivy League school, they pooled from the same caliber of students each year. So I had a tough decision to make. Bucknell or Lehigh?
What made the difference was their confidence in me. Bucknell wanted me more, and it felt good to know that I was what they wanted. But that didn’t last very long. The honeymoon was soon over after the season started 6 months later. I was their #1 recruit, and I did start over a senior goalkeeper my freshman year, but that quickly ended. Playing Division I college ball was bigger, tougher, faster, and meaner than I had ever imagined, and I was in for a rude awakening.
I went from starting and playing the whole game, to barely playing 10 minutes by the sixth game of the season. Some of it wasn’t my fault at all. Apparently the fourth year goalkeeper had a lot of political clout with the head coach, and despite the strong support of other players and even the assistant coach, it wasn’t enough to get me playing time. But if I were to be completely honest, I simply didn’t live up to the expectations of the Head coach. I was a disappointment…or at the very least, not quite as good as he had hoped for.
It was a fair assessment though. I certainly wasn’t any worse than the other goalie, but I wasn’t unbelievably better either. So when push came to shove, everyone was disappointed with the result – including myself. I wasn’t quite the superstar that everyone expected me to be, and I wasn’t the superstar that I was used to being.
But four years later…I was ranked #1 in the country for a Saves Per Game stat amongst the NCAA’s Division I goalkeepers, achieved Defensive Player of the Week in the Patriot League, and helped to lead Bucknell into unprecedented wins against rivals such as Lehigh and Colgate. At one point, we had even placed in the Top 25 NCAA Division I men’s soccer rankings, upsetting a couple Top 10 programs in the country.
The reason this all came to mind is because I feel as though I’ve been experiencing a bit of Déjà vu. The past 17 months of my career at Immersion Active have been a steady uphill battle of finding my mojo, chi, or in layman’s terms, my confidence. And although everyone has been extremely supportive and patient (as well as invested in my success) at Immersion Active, I haven’t quite lived up to the hype of someone with a Director of Business Relationships title.
So, it has been decided (and I can’t say I fault them for it) that I am no longer a “Director”.
So last week, I didn’t want to continue reflecting myself as this position, despite their insistence that the changing of my title could wait until business cards had arrived, so I logged onto my account on LinkedIN and edited my title to “Business Relationships Manager”. Within 24 hours, I had received a warm note from a client which I found to be quite humorous and ironic:
Lol. Little did she know, I had just been DEmoted, not PROmoted (in title only).
Even though this story doesn’t have a happy ending (yet), I know that the story is still waiting to unfold. The book of my life is still being written, and I’m anxious to see the story that God will write for me.
As we near Thanksgiving this year, I am reminded of how thankful I am, of how far I’ve come, and how much I’ve accomplished. I may have had my share of disappointments and unexpected outcomes, but I’ve also had my share of things to be thankful for as well. Pastor Steve wrote something that “stuck” with me a couple of weeks ago,
When you face an enemy, obstacle, or setback, you can either see it as a wall or a door.
As he explained, the Israelites chose to look at Goliath as a wall…and they waited for 40 days hoping it would go away. David, on the other hand, saw things differently – and God blessed him for it.
Every champ has his/her chump moments. But they’re a champ because they never stay a chump.
This chump is moving on.
I’m a neat freak. I like things orderly. And if you’ve been reading this blog (or know me personally), you’ll know that I like Excel Spreadsheets (Post: Don’t Calculate without God).
So how is it that someone like me could have SO MUCH TRASH in my condo? That’s one of the benefits to dating someone who is also a neat freak. They not only spot the trash in your life a mile away, they actually do something about it.
Over the course of the past few months, the geeky side of me has been able to blossom, and I feel a bit like Will Ferrell on Old School:
Will Ferrell’s character: I got a big day tomorrow. You guys have a great time.
College Student: A big day? Doing what?
Will Ferrell’s character: Well, um, actually a pretty nice little Saturday, we’re going to go to Home Depot. Yeah, buy some wallpaper, maybe get some flooring, stuff like that. Maybe Bed, Bath, & Beyond, I don’t know, I don’t know if we’ll have enough time.
You see, I identify with those remarks. But the thing is, I actually ENJOY it. The Benz and I actually enjoy staying in on a Friday night to paint my hallway doors, or put up some frames or ceiling lamps from IKEA.
We even made an event out of it. Did you know that IKEA has food? And it’s good too! AND it’s cheap! This weekend, they had a special on their meatball dinner. It included about a dozen meatballs, lumpy mashed potatoes, and some cranberry sauce for $.99! Yes folks, for less than a dollar, you could eat well! And they make it so fun! You can cart around your food on a cool shopping cart.
But I digress. The point is, there aren’t many couples that could say they enjoy cleaning as a “date night”.
But it hasn’t been all fun and games. We’ve revisited the kitchen about 5 different times now. Cabinet by cabinet, we’ve emptied it out, trashed tons of items, Lysol’d, and reorganized every single item in my kitchen. Well, to be more accurate, she’s done most of that for me. I’ve been playing a management role and watching her do it, nodding my head up and down (or side to side) giving her endless excuses for why I need a plate from when I was a child, or flower styrofoam plates from 1996, or receipts of groceries from 5 years ago. You see, I am a pack rat (or so she claims). She clearly doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
And believe it or not, it’s a painful process. It’s hard to let things go. We’ve gotten into fights over it because I get too sensitive about feeling attacked for my possessions and lifestyle.
You wouldn’t believe the amount of trash that’s come out of that house. (And it’s still happening). We’ve taken out about 15-20 large trash bags of ‘stuff’ to take to the dumpster – I kid you NOT. And that’s just the kitchen cabinets. One room at a time, we’re doing a CLEAN SWEEP (one of my favorite HGTV Do-It-Yourself shows) of my entire place.
But what I would like to know is, how does a clean, neat freak, Excel spreadsheet kind of guy accrue so much junk in one place in such a short lifetime?
It’s made me think about our lives, and how we carry so much trash along the way. We don’t even realize how dusty and cramped our lives have become with excess junk. They often hide in cabinets and closets in the form of friends that we can’t let go of or habits like watching certain TV shows or movies. Sometimes they are more elusive, like holding on to attitudes of ‘complaint’, ‘gossip’, or ‘bitterness’ towards people in general. The point is, if you don’t take the time to examine your house, you won’t even realize all the junk that is being stored up.
And you wonder why you don’t have room. You’re missing out on all the good stuff you could replace the junk with.
Having the Benz in my life has been a blessing. Sometimes it takes someone else to see your house from a fresh perspective in order for you to look at places and things that you would otherwise overlook or avoid. Who’s in your life that can help you get rid of so much trash?
I wonder what this guy’s story is. Is he just some random person who thought this was a cool quote? Does he make it a habit of carrying around his camera while he’s riding his motorcycle and just pull over along the side of the road, having his photo taken by these signs? Or is there significance to him being in the picture? Why is he holding his helmet? Did he stare death in the face and escape an accident that could have cost him his life? Did God give him a second chance?
I couldn’t help but think about my own experience. I didn’t stare death in the face…not the way this guy might have, but I did wish for a second chance once.
If only she knew how sorry I was, then she would be able to forgive me. If only she understood the pain I had on my heart, I know she could work past the fact that I cheated on her. I just needed her to be in my shoes, to be in my head…then she could know that I would never do such a thing ever again. There IS such a thing as making a mistake and learning from it. It was just the one time.
Why wouldn’t she believe me? Why wouldn’t she forgive me? Why wouldn’t she give me a second chance?
I fell into a deep depression coma once I was arrested that fateful June day. I’m pretty sure I cried every single day, several hours a day, for the next two weeks as I wasted away in that Jail cell in Wyoming. I literally couldn’t eat for days. I had never cared so little about eating in my life. In fact, I would have welcomed death at that point…and I would have welcomed death for the next year of my life. Maybe even two. Just ask my family.
Once I was released from jail and on bond, I remember driving the streets at night and being hypnotized by the methodical street lights as I passed them by, thinking to myself, fantasizing to myself, hoping that a drunk driver would appear and swerve into my lane and kill me instantly in a head on collision. I used to come up with elaborate movie scene worthy scenarios of cars crashing and flipping as I tumbled to my death, putting me out of my misery. Life just simply wasn’t worth living if I couldn’t be with Michaela.
There was no excuse for my actions. I knew that. I did the unthinkable. I did one of the most hurtful things anybody could ever do to their lover. I cheated. And to really make it a hard pill to swallow, I was arrested for attempting to do it with a minor – a minor that was the same age as her kid sister. Who does that? Who could be so sick and twisted and…
I hated myself for a very long time. I wondered the same things about myself that she did.
She tried to make it work. She didn’t officially break up with me for another four or five months. That was when she finally called it quits. She just couldn’t get past it. There was too much doubt. Too much pain. Too much hurt. Too much deceit. Even if it was just one lie, it was one lie too many. One lie caused her to question our whole relationship. It caused her to question my whole character. I had destroyed the trust between us, and nothing that came out of my mouth could ever be believed again…at least not by her. It was crazy how one act, one single moment in time could destroy two and half years of character building proof. Just one mistake.
I understood it though. I deserved it. I made my bed, and now I had to lie in it. This was the beginning of one of the toughest lessons I have ever had to learn – there are consequences for our actions, and sometimes those consequences change the picture completely…forever.
But from where I was standing, the perspective was so different. I knew I would never hurt her like that again. My eyes had been opened. I now knew that I was capable of being a destroyer, of being a monster, and I was committed to never letting that happen again. All I wanted was a second chance. All I wanted was for her to forgive me…to truly forgive me, and to pretend like it had never happened. I just wanted her to see how much I could love her, how much I could right the wrong that I did, to prove to her through my actions that if she would give me that chance, she would never regret it for the rest of her life.
But I never got that second chance. Those were reserved for fairy tales and cheesy romantic comedies and dramas, but that wasn’t real life. That wasn’t my reality.
I wouldn’t change the course of events now that I’m removed from it and six years have passed. I now see how God turned the ugliest thing in my life and turned it into something good, and there’s something beautiful about His work when He does that. He surprises us by creating a masterpiece when we hand Him the paintbrush and allow Him to finish the disaster that we started.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. – Romans 8:28
With that said, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if she had given me a second chance.
Monday morning, shortly after I got to the office, I received a text from a friend.
It happened again. Ur not on fb 😦
Sure enough, when I went to login into Facebook, I was met with the all too familiar message:
like a stoic stranger, Facebook excommunicated me from my friends, family, and society.
I could feel the blood coursing through my veins the way a gulp of hot chocolate might feel on a cold wintry, blizzard day as it pushes its way down the inside of my stomach.
“Why is this happening to me?”, I said in a hushed voice at my office desk. But the thing is, I knew why my account had been deactivated. Even though the FAQ section was not going to address the reason why my account had been deactivated, I knew what the real reason was – the unwritten reason…well, it used to be an unwritten reason.
Two years ago, when they deactivated my original account, they wouldn’t tell me the real reason. But now, it appears, the rules have changed. Now the rules include people who have been convicted of a sex offense (http://www.facebook.com/terms.php). Unfortunately for me, I now fall under their newly revised statement of rights and responsibilities (as of August 28, 2009) – a statement of rights and responsibilities that was not in place when I recreated an account in July.
I understand the argument (of course). After all, who would want pedophiles and rapists and sexual predators lurking around the pools of Facebook cyber space, looking for their next victim? I sure wouldn’t. I plan to have kids someday, and I sure wouldn’t be thrilled about the notion of these ‘guys’ preying on my children.
But the other side of that story (which is factual btw) is that convicted sex offenders are not the ones you need to really worry about. They have already been caught and punished. The reality is that they actually have some of the lowest recidivism rates among criminals in the entire judicial system, with only 3-5% having been rearrested after conviction. Keep in mind, ‘rearrested’ does not equate to being ‘convicted’.
Compare that statistic to other inmates that were released from prison, and their recidivism rates jump up to over 67% (http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/crimoff.htm#sex).
What’s my point?
I hate that the mistake I made in June of 2003 as a 25 yr old has put me in a category of criminals whereby people are scared to death of associating with me. If leprosy were a modern day rampant disease, I would be the equivalent of a leper. Just like the lepers of biblical times, I have been cast out (virtually) as a second class citizen. I’ve come to really identify with and love the story where Jesus heals the lepers (Mark 1:40-45).
I have no right to vote, I have no right to network with friends and family of mine through a tool like FB, I’m not allowed to step foot on school property, I’m not allowed to leave my house on Halloween, there’s been talk that I’ll have to put a special license plate on my car identifying me as a sex offender…the point is, there are a lot of things I can’t do, and a lot of methods of casting me as far away from society as possible, and I would be lying if I said it doesn’t get to me.
Ironically, this past Tuesday night at Lifegroup, I led the discussion on the topic of SHAME as a form of baggage that we carry throughout our lives – and boy is it a large baggage piece in my life. If I were at the airport, it would be the type of baggage that would weigh in way over the 50 lbs limit, costing me a ton just to send it to my destination with me.
So why don’t I just empty it out, right?
I’d love to. Really. I mean, who likes to pay extra for their baggage when going on vacation, right? I certainly don’t. But the thing is, every now and then, something pops up to remind me of my past, to condemn me of what I did in 2003.
So when I walk into the local grocery store, like I did one day in 2006, and see my face posted on the community bulletin board with my name and address highlighted in yellow like a Wanted sign from the late 1800’s, it doesn’t exactly make it easy for me to ‘check my baggage at the feet of Jesus’. I’m gun shy now. Every time I walk into that Weis, I scan the bulletin board for my mug shot. Is that the effect of baggage in my life? How do I get rid of that?
I don’t have to do this yet (and I emphasize ‘yet’), but there are sex offenders that have to put a sign in their yard on Halloween that advertises they are a sex offender, much like a realtor might stake their claim to a property being sold. The laws are changing every month. Facebook’s rules are evidence of that. Am I looking ‘over my shoulders’ figuratively? Yeah. I sure am. Is that the effect of baggage in my life? How can I get rid of that baggage when I’m constantly facing game changers that affect my life?
And when I get pulled over a few times a year by a cop who scans my plates and sees that the driver has a criminal record. Does that make it easy to forget about my regrettable mistake in 2003? Oh, and its icing on the cake when they instruct me to get out of my car so that they can talk to me. What’s up with that? That was never protocol for me before my conviction. Have you ever had to get out of your car when you were pulled over for 1) a suspected illegal window tint, 2) a blown tail light, 3) [insert bogus excuse here]? Again, it makes it hard to forget your past when this is the effect of your baggage.
I constantly feel like Forrest Gump in that scene where he was trying to find a seat on the bus, but was met with a cold “Seat’s taken” remark each time he went to sit down. Did he deserve being treated that way? Was he a freak? A total loser? Forest didn’t seem to let it get to him too much, but I’m sure it did at times. And there are times, where it gets to me too.
I know that God is not the One who is bombarding me with condemning situations whereby I’m being reminded of something that I did over 6 yrs ago. That’s Satan’s work. I know that. I also know that there are consequences for our sin. Sometimes, they play out in ways like I’ve described. Sometimes they don’t. Are these things fair? Is this what I deserve? Probably not.
But then I’m reminded that Life Isn’t Fair. And if I really stop to think about it, I should praise God for that fact. Because if it were…if life were truly fair…and if I were given what I really deserve…I wouldn’t be here today. Romans 6:23 reminds me that “the wages of sin is death”. So what do I really deserve? Death. But praise God for being who He is.
8 The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. 9 He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; 10 he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. 11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; 12 as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
– Psalm 103:8-12
Who's kicking you around and why?
Have you ever had a bad experience that has led to a bad taste in your mouth? Maybe it was a food that you had as a child that literally got you sick, and has forever ruined your appetite to eat that food again. Or maybe it was a bad relationship that has gotten you jaded and looking at everyone with a skeptical eye. Have you ever had a bad experience with someone of another race, and now that has shaped the way you look at everyone of that race? You may not openly voice those opinions, biases, or judgments, but we’ve all done it.
I’m guilty of this myself. Probably of all three that I mentioned. And this morning, I found myself infuriated, again, with cops.
I was taking out the trash this morning in my complex when I saw the unmarked State Trooper camped out on the street outside my development. I was thinking to myself, “What a jerk” (or maybe something worse) as I imagined him sitting there just looking for reasons to pull people over.
By the time I made it back to my car, he was gone. I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road where he was idling. As I was nearing the stop sign, there he was, idling again…waiting for his next prey.
I took my time getting there. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by coming up on him too fast. Red sports cars have a way of giving the appearance of exaggerated motions.
I could see his face in the side view mirror, and I instantly remembered who this guy was. He had pulled me over on the way to work about ten months ago. I was riding my motorcycle, minding my own business. I was sitting in traffic at a light, idling behind a school bus when I noticed out of my periphery that a car was creeping up beside me. When I turned my head to the right, he rolled down his window and signaled for me to pull over. What in the world could I have possibly done, in traffic, having only been on the road for less than a mile? Where did this creeper come from?
My Yamaha Roadstar Warrior - notice the vertical mounted license plate
Forty-five minutes later, he gave me a citation for having my license plate displayed vertically. According to this guy (and this guy only – I later verified with several other cops and two other bike shops the validity of his statement – they denied confirmation of his claim), a license plate must be displayed horizontally. $75 later, I still have not purchased a $200 license bracket plus the labor it would take to remedy the situation. Instead, I’ve barely ridden my motorcycle in the past year out of fear that this ____ cop is going to stumble across me again and write me another ticket – or worse, find some other reason to cart me off to jail.
Am I crazy? Is it just my imagination? Am I just that rebellious that I’m breaking laws left and right, looking for trouble?
Well, this morning, when I saw him sitting at the stop sign, getting ready to pull onto the main drag to work, I thought to myself…I better keep a safe distance so that he can’t run my plates. My cop friends tell me that they run plates all day long. If you see a cop on the highway, cruising with a pack of cars, guess what they’re doing – they’re running all the plates of the cars around them. If they see anything off (an expired tag, a delinquent parking ticket, a cracked windshield, a tail light that is out, a dark tint…), they WILL pull you over just to see what else they can find. Those little things are a gateway to finding bigger things. Their philosophy is “where there is smoke, there’s fire…”…so you don’t want to have any smoke coming from your car (pun intended).
I know many of you are thinking, “but I have a cracked windshield”, or “I have 10 unpaid parking tickets”, or “my tail light has been out for 2 years and I’ve never been pulled over”. Well, here’s the catch…there are caveats to this procedure. If you’re driving a four cylinder grannymobile, and you’re a white female, or if you’re a white male driving a Cadillac CTS, and your record is clean, they’re not going to bother you. Check out this article on Frederick County if you don’t believe it’s a problem (Experts say racial disparity among stops warrant investigation). It’s just not worth their time because it’s not likely that they are going to find anything else. But if you’re an asian male in a predominantly caucasian county, in a red sports car with tinted windows and a criminal record, they WILL pull you over. Wow…when I look at it like that, maybe I’d pull myself over too.
I was already pulled over for this violation a year ago. Another cop pulled me over, claiming that my window tint was over the legal limit. It wasn’t. I specifically ordered the legal limit when I bought the tint. Why would I want to draw unnecessary attention to myself, right? Apparently it didn’t matter. If they “suspect” that it’s illegal, the burden falls on me to prove otherwise. What no one tells you is how you can go about proving your innocence. Not even the cops. I went through the process of proving the legality of my tint, had the necessary citations signed off on, paid my fine, and thought this was behind me. Then one day, I received a notice in the mail that my registration was being suspended. Messy messy messy. And have I mentioned the frustration?
That was supposed to have been sorted out this past March. So when the Trooper this morning started gabbing about my illegal tint, I pulled out copies of the documents I had proving my innocence.
This doesn’t tell me anything. What this says is that you were late in sorting this problem out in the first place. And who’s to say you haven’t gotten a darker tint since then?
Are you kidding me? I couldn’t believe what he was saying. I play by their rules, and they still screw with you. He and I knew that this was not about a window tint…but neither one of us was going to mention the big, fat elephant standing between us. Every time that has come up, they (and I) end up getting angry with each other. They feel the need to put a “criminal” in his place, and I feel a need to remind them that I’ve paid my dues and debt to society and shouldn’t be condemned for something that happened six years ago. It gets us nowhere, so I just bit my lip.
Just do what you got to do
I didn’t want to get in a battle with him, so I just told him to write me up and do what he had to do. He was in his car on his cell phone for a good twenty minutes – verifying all the statements and claims I had made to see if he had caught me in a lie.
After a short prayer, I was reminded of a promise from God – a promise that I need to hold on to whenever I’m feeling condemned. A promise for days like today:
Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. – Isaiah 43:18-19
Minutes later, the Trooper got out of his vehicle and made his way back to mine. This time, I was NOT issued a ticket. I was just issued a repair order. He told me that he was going to personally follow up with me to see that I have this done. “Do you have any questions?”, he asked.
“Yes. When you say you are going to ‘personally’ follow up with me, what do you mean by that? Do you plan on knocking on my door so that you can inspect my tint?”
“No. I’ll just follow up with you.”
“Right. But we live in the same neighborhood, so what are you planning to do?” He didn’t answer. So I just looked away and waited for him to leave.
“Have a nice day”, he said.
When I got back to the office, there was an email waiting for me from my prayer partner, reminding me of God’s promise for my future, reminding me to disregard Satan’s condemnation for something that I’ve been forgiven of already.
I have to admit it’s hard for me to look at every cop individually and refrain from lumping them all into one pool of jerks and power hungry idiots. It helps that I have friends who are cops, and friends who want to become cops (I know their hearts and their commitment to God first)…but still, when things like this happen, I revert to my disgust of their pettiness. In my fifteen years of driving, I’ve been pulled over three times up until 2003. Since I’ve gotten out of prison in 2006, I’ve been pulled over at least a dozen times for innocuous things. Never for speeding. Never for a flagrant violation.
Yes, I have a chip on my shoulder, and I’m working to smooth it out. It’s not ok for me to think this way about cops.
Are there things that you’ve done in the past that have haunted you years later? Do they have a way of coming back to condemn you time and time again? How does that shape the way you perceive the world around you? How do you treat others as a result of what has happened to you? Remember that if you are repentant, God has forgiven you, and that condemnation is not from God – that’s from the Adversary.
The Calm Before the Storm 