I think this photo sums it up.
It's my daughter's little Vans and my ol' Vans side by side.
This journey is going to continue. It's just how I choose to respond to the journey that I have control over. Actually, I don't even have control over that if I am truly living life the way it should be lived. I will respond as God has called me to respond.
So when my marriage gets tough- talk to God.
People get mad at church- seek God.
Someone needs a meal- be like God and feed them.
A person is hurting- be Jesus to them, comfort them.
Others talk slander and gossip- teach them in love.
A struggle with personal sin- bring it to Jesus.
My daughter asks questions- seek God's guidance.
Things are going great- praise God.
Watch lives changed for eternity- thank my God.
An addict gives up addiction- be his accountability.
Families are hurting- show them Jesus.
And the list could go on and on...
I know many pastors live a fairly closed life because of their roles. I respect them and the decision they've come to. I've prayed to God and will continue to take a different approach. As long as I am breathing and living on this earth, I will strive to be an open book. With my triumphs, I will celebrate the joys of life. And with hardships, I will truthfully tell the stories of pain. All the while, praying that if my life can aid others in their journey- that these ol' Vans can help your ol' Nike, Reebok, Addidas, whatever... it's worth every post, blog, message, conversation, and comment.
Keep truckin' along in the journey and there will be plenty more to come. Stay tuned.
Jason *over and out*
10.19.2007
THE INTRO
This photo is just a few of the current ones, but I love Vans. I've been wearing their shoes for the past 18+ years. I just love the way they feel on my feet- comfort, but I can still feel the ground underneath me (not walking on a cloud like some of these new shoes out there). It always takes awhile to break in a new pair and it doesn't get just right until about 2-3 months into wearing them. But then- it's a little slice of heaven.
You probably have some shoes that you just LOOOOVVEEE. You wouldn't part with them for anything. My shoes not only are a source of comfort for me, but they each tell their own story.
Each pair of Vans is a moment in time. A reminder of the journey. A flashback. I can look and remember where I was, what happened, and what I wish I could forget. But it's my history. It's what has molded me into the man God has here now.
So, here it begins. A daily journey with these old Vans n' the man who wears them. I'll open up and share life's ups and downs as He's brought me here to this place where I am now a happily married man with a beautiful daughter and an amazing church.
But, life wasn't always so "peachy keen" and it never stays that way for long. The comforting thing is God never promised a safe and easy journey, but He does promise to be there all along the way. I'm excited and a little nervous to share through this series, but I pray my life may somehow speak to yours.
Post #1
So before I entered the world (crowd applauds) there was my Mom and Dad. Dad was a recovering Catholic/Navy man and my Mom was a church going Protestant/Teacher. A match made in heaven- sort of.
They met in a bar/restaurant on base at White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico. They danced, he was apparently a little too charming. She gave him her number (probably not the best call). He calls in the next day or so and their next date was to "church?!" What?
Yep. My mom figured if that didn't scare him away, nothing would. Three months later they were married and off to tour the world compliments of the Navy stationing them overseas. Upon returning, in 1979 their little bundle of pure hell and torture arrived (yours truly- wink, wink).
Along the way we got stationed here in Hampton Roads, my brother was on his way and so begins the memories... some of which I didn't want to remember.
As a kid I remember my dad not being around as much. With deployments and traveling, it was pretty much mom at the helm. One time in particular I remember being so angry with my mom for leaving me with my dad. She was in the hospital having my brother and I remember not even wanting to talk to her. I gave her this ridiculous attitude like I had been abandoned. But that's how I felt. I didn't really know my dad at the time because he wasn't anything more than a photo covered in contact paper. Being with him as opposed to mom was pretty unsettling. Now don't get me wrong, I love my parents and thank God for the Navy job my father had, but if you're a military family- you know the pain that takes place when separated. It's so difficult. I wonder what the next generation of kids with parents gone will be like from this war that we've been at for so long...
So, my mom was the spiritual push for quite some time- and I hated it. And I hated God.
Post #2
So I hated that my mom was the spiritual push and I hated God. "Wow, did my pastor just say that?" Yes. Yes I did. For most of you reading this at some point you or someone you know has been there too.
I didn't think God cared for me. I went to church as a little kid and heard about "God's love and protection," but I never felt it. Ever. I actually felt the opposite. I felt like God had abandoned me. Que the crappy reality I never faced or told anyone about until a year ago...
It was first grade at my first elementary school here in Virginia Beach. The teacher (who will remain nameless) was big on showing film strips to teach. I loved those little projectors with the reel and cassette tape that you had to turn on at the same time or the whole video looked like it should have subtitles. So she ques up the video, turns down the lights and returns to her desk.
I sat next to Monica. Monica was a little African-American girl who lived in an apartment in Plaza with her 6 siblings, mom, dad and grandmother. She was nice and that's all I really knew about her. As the video began, she turned to me and whispered, "Don't say anything." I didn't know what she meant, but I was soon about to find out.
Immediately I found myself in an awkward and uneasy moment. Monica had placed her hand on my leg and then inappropriately touched me. I felt bad. dirty. helpless. I had no clue what to do. So I did what any first grade kid would do who was never talked to about that sort of thing... nothing.
She did this every time a filmstrip would come on and ask me to do the same to her. I remember wondering why God would let me feel that way- because by little body told me it felt good, but I knew in my mind and heart it was wrong. I never said a word. Ever.
It wasn't until planning for a message on December 20, 2007 that I vocalized it for the first time to my wife. I cried and she consoled me. No kid should ever have to experience that. It kills me to think kids go through that daily across the world. That experience haunted me, I am glad I am free to talk about it now, but it set me on a course of behavior with relationships and sexuality that was out of control.
Post #3
My mind & ideas were wrecked. After the elementary experience I trusted no one. It was me and me only. I continued to go to church since my parents made us, but I couldn't stand it. The sight of happy people and Jesus in the same room made me feel weird.
I know this sounds odd coming from a little kid's mind, but I went along with it. I did the musicals, I dressed like a stupid sheep for a manger scene at Christmas- and it was ridiculous. I was a happy kid when I was in control and around my friends, that was it.
Being around them made me feel good and being in charge gave me a sense of entitlement and power. I really loved it. No, i lived for it. So as I went into middle school, I began to look at females less as people and more like objects. Who was going to be conquered next?
I would see how many girls I could date and do things with. I would lie about everything. Absolutely everything to get girls to like me. Deception was my strong suit. It went hand in hand with the power trip and I knew how to use it. So I would tell my mom and dad I was off to a friends house and go to parties and hang out with friends and girls. I would "mess around" and what not with a few girls, come home or "sleep over" at a friend's house and call it a night. I didn't cross the "intercourse" bridge... yet.
All the while I thought I was just shoving a big middle finger up to the heavens at God. I was on a mini-middle school rampage and I could care less about who was in my path. But the messing around was only going to fill me up for so long. I needed something more. Something different.
Post #4
Something different didn't come right away. Actually, to back track a bit... I remember the day my deception began.
We were on a family road trip from Va Beach, VA to San Clemente, CA to visit family along the way. On a side note, Go On Road Trips. Period. From my childhood, it stands out as the single most amazing thing we did. It's what I picture the all-American family being. It's my fondest memories of spending time together with my siblings and parents- and I miss it.
So, we're on the road trip half way across the America and my dad being the trusting man that he is bought my brother and I sling shots. SWEET! I was probably about 10 years old, my brother 8, and it was awesome. We were shooting everything. I mean everything. If the car was stopped, we were shooting. I can't believe he ever bought us those things at that age. But, it was so cool.
On one stop in AZ, I can remember it like it was yesterday. Mid-summer, feeling close to what Hell might be like, nothing around but a gas station. The whole family rolls in the convenience store to get drinks as I catch something out of the corner of my eye... a little tiny bird. "It's hot as death outside with nothing around! What are you doing here little bird?!" Thinking back now, that would have been my first thought, but as a young man- I went straight for the sling shot.
I grabbed a little rock, pulled back (if you are a PETA member or love animals, stop reading and go eat a salad or something), and let the rock fly. Everything went into slow motion as the rock hit the bird and knocked it head over little claws, talons or whatever. And then... it didn't move. In grabbing the sling shot I didn't imagine or even fathom that the thing would die. I just thought it would stun it. The little bird kind of fluttered for a moment, then laid still.
My heart raced. I had never experienced death of any kind. No one got shot on TV in those days. We didn't see 890 deaths in the news and media shows before we were 12!? The closest I got to watching pain was Wiley Coyote and the Road Runner! I didn't know how to handle it. I started to panic. "What was I going to say to my dad? Maybe they won't notice. If I get back in the car they''ll think it died of heat stroke or something!?" (I'm sure I had no idea how to spell heat stroke back then, much less plan on blaming it for the death of a bird).
My family came out. My dad saw the bird, turned to me, asked the question- and I lied. "Did you do something to that bird?" "No sir," I replied while my legs shook out of sight in the back seat. He gave me the "I think your full of crap and know you lied to me, but I don't have time for your little kid B.S." look, and we drove off.
I spent the rest of AZ to CA and back to VB replaying that moment like the scene from JFK where they replay the shooting over and over and over, "Back- and to the left." It haunted me. All I had to do was tell the truth, but I didn't. And so started the lies that led to middle school and the acting out behavior to get attention.
But it didn't stop at middle school. High school was where it got ramped up to a whole new level...
Post #5
High school provided amazing outlets and all sorts of new challenges. It's where I truly began to bloom when it came to the arts and I created a true bond with other people through sports- soccer and skateboarding.
But the challenges seemed to overwhelm me.
If you are a parent of a middle/high school student- please read this with an open mind. Your generation has no clue what these kids are facing. Not to disrespect parents out there, but it's a different world we live in- and even secular culture realizes it and makes a distinction. In no time in our country's history have technology, society, and people been so accelerated and connected. Kids have porn, peer pressure and political/world views being shoved down their throat from every angle. It's not the same world you grew up in. And parenting out of your experience in po' dunk small town high school of 130 kids where everyone knew each others name and the biggest gossip was Johnny the athlete feeling up Suzie in the back seat of his dad's wooden paneled station wagon doesn't even compare.
You and I knew sex, drugs, and rock and roll- but these kids now live in a place where it's a reality in their webpages, video games, cellphones, movies, magazines, and more. They are dealing with whether or not they like men or women, if they should accept the invitation for a three way sexual encounter with their peers, what type of language should I use to tell my teacher how much I hate her, or should I just roll into school and shoot up the place because I can't process my emotions?
It's unreal.
So, needless to say I didn't handle those challenges well. I gave in to the prompting and tried a few different drugs, I loved the taste of alcohol. But I didn't share that info with many of my friends. They were big into the "straight edge" lifestyle and that would not have been acceptable. And to feed that hole for something different, something new- I turned to stealing. And so began my double life, which would turn to a triple life really quick...
Post #6
Juggling double life and triple life is a beast. Seriously. Try becoming three different people and remembering which lie you told to whom and making sure no girlfriend or friends at one place find out about another girlfriend and friends at another place. It just sucked.
Well, in the moment it felt great. Because I loved the power of being able to keep it all moving. I felt like the master of the puppets (cue Metallica) and I was in complete control. The control of filling the void was done by stealing. It was my new thing and I loved it.
Every chance I got I would steal. Friends houses, stores, work, it didn't matter. In high school if I could get my hands on it- I was going to have it. Case closed. I was real big into the skateboarding scene and all that gear and clothing got expensive. My mom would always ask how I got something and I would say a friend gave it to me or they were doing a give away. Anything to get by.
One time we were trying to build a ramp with friends. We saw a construction place where they stored their supplies near our friend Andrew's house. Figured we would just "borrow" some of it to make our sweet little ramp. So we went under the chain fence, threw the wood over to our friends and rolled out for some skating goodness.
What we didn't know was someone was watching. Totally unaware, we were kickin' it with the ramp when multiple cops cruise around the corner. We split, but all got caught. The place pressed charges and we went to court. I was scared to death.
Sweatin' bullets in front of the judge and they made us go through the whole bit. The lawyer one of the kids had got us off and I didn't learn my lesson one bit. Kept stealing, breaking into cars, and doing my own thing. All the while meeting girls and trying to see how many I could tally up.
That was until I met a pretty serious girlfriend, then things changed...
Post #7
Well, we left off with my habitual inclination to steal everything in sight and a conquest with women that didn't seem like it would end...
Well, towards the close of my sophomore year- I met her.
She went to another school and I was introduced to her at church. The only reason I went was because girls would be there. In full disclosure, Christian girls were easy prey. They loved God and wanted "every bad boy to be saved" and they were easily manipulated. Now don't get me wrong, not every girl was like that, but check out a Christian college campus sometime. Quite a few people are stumbling in this sexual realm. It's been happening for years.
So, this girl and I started dating and hanging out- ALL THE TIME. My parents thought she was a great influence because she loved God and basically didn't care what I was doing as long as I was with her. Since we spent so much time together, the breaking into cars stopped because I wasn't hanging with those guys as much. Good. I wasn't tempted to get into any illegal drugs or drinking because I was with her. Good. And I was tempted now more than ever to move into the realm of having sex. Not so good.
We pressed the limits for over a year. Never crossing that line, but coming close. It was like dancing on the edge of Hell, only I didn't believe in any of that mess. I really did not care. So there were no real consequences for me in my reality. Finally, after much peer pressure to seal the deal, we did.
The pattern of behavior was consistent, but the thing that strikes me looking back on it- was the Christian response. Everyone turned on us. Condemned us. Hated us (some of their words, not mine). They told youth sponsors, talked about us behind our back, shunned us at youth group. It was pretty bad. They would say hi and be cordial, but behind their talk and eyes the true colors shown through. Then hearing through AIM (aol instant messenger for you folks out of touch with the 21st century) that people were talking about us made it even worse.
Now more than ever, I couldn't stand God or Christians. I thought they were fake, rude, obnoxious, and just down right scum. I basically stopped going to church for a brief time, hung out with friends, dropped back into the old routine of life when not with m girlfriend- and waited out high school so I could pursue my dream of being a graphic artist.
That was until the summer of 1997, then God did some unreal things in my life...
Post #8
1997. Confused as can be. My girlfriend and I were excited about the idea of me pursuing a dream of going to art school and becoming a graphic designer. But, dreams get crushed and plans change. We've all experienced that at some point in our lives (and if you haven't yet, sorry- but you will).
I was working at Up Against The Wall here at Lynnhaven Mall in Virginia Beach and planned on working at the one in Richmond there- got fired. Totally out of the blue for me. I was looking around at apartments and the one I had a lead on sounded amazing- until I found out the guy that was going to be my roommate was homosexual. I was floored. At the time I am sad to say that I hated gay people. I was a completely homophobic and didn't understand it (to everyone reading this, I was young, immature, and didn't even remotely love God, much less understand His unconditional love for all people regardless of their life's choices).
So, all I had was a plan to go to school, that was it. Then my girlfriend asked me to go to Camp Rudolph. Ugh. It was a camp. A Christian camp. I hated the idea. I went to that camp every summer growing up and I just went to socialize. That's it. So we went and I hated the idea.
God was about to hijack my life. I didn't even know it.
So at that week there was a kid named Nate. He wanted to get baptized and every night he called his mom and she would say "No. Those people are a cult," or "What in the world are you thinking? Those people believe in nothing." Night after night, more of the same. Even though I wasn't into God, I felt sorry for the kid. It looked like he was into it. We left the week and I was ready to figure out a new plan to make it to school and get the heck out of Virginia Beach. God had different plans.
The Saturday we got back home, I get a phone call from a friend, "Hey Jason, we're going to baptize Nate at the ocean front. 64th Street. Be there." I was still close with some of the "Jesus Kids" even though I didn't really care for it. So I went.
Nate told us, "If I do this, my mom said I can't go to church or hang out with any of my Christian friends. I know I need to follow God first, then my mom." And he did it. In the rough waters of the Atlantic Ocean I watched a young man follow God in the midst of chaos. At that moment everything in my mind was thrown into a spiral.
On the drive home God wasn't yelling, screaming, or even speaking to me. It was a whisper. I kept hearing a simple and faint, "Just move." I tried to ignore it and then again I heard it, "Just move." It was probably the fourth time that I finally said out loud, "Alright. I'll do it." My girlfriend looked at me like I was crazy. I told her, "I think God wants me to go to Bible college and be a pastor. I think I want to give other people the life change Nate had. I think I want what Nate has." She seemed sort of excited. I guess.
I told my parents. They didn't really know what to think. They were so confused. It threw them off kilter to here their son who NEVER was about the church all of the sudden expressing the desire to be a pastor!?!
So I called my youth pastor (using the term loosely since he was the youth pastor at the church I had not even been to in almost 8 months, but he was the closest thing to it at the time). I left a message that I think I want to go to Bible college. He called me late that night.
And a new chapter was about to be underway. But "Jesus School for College Kids" wasn't all rainbows and smiles for a city kid with a lot of baggage...
Post #9
It was 1997 and I was off to "Jesus School." Now before anyone reading this gets up in arms- I am very thankful for my education I received at Roanoke Bible College (actually in Elizabeth City, NC). The biblical training I got, the mentoring from older students and professors, the life experience there... all appreciated and needed.
Okay, now that being said... I didn't really fit too well. Being a city kid with long hair, piercings, tattoos, loving metal and straight edge music; I didn't really slide into the mold of the typical student.
Another big thing standing in my way was that I was still a lot of things that aren't normally what you look for in a future pastor: A liar. A thief. An abuser. A womanizer. A deceiver. And the list goes on. I learned really quick that sharing your past meant one of two things:
- People would shun you from their social groups or
- By noon, everyone would know your story and people all across the Bible belt would soon know as well.
I would go into people's dorm rooms and have an inner war going on that no one could see... "Should I take that (name the item) when no one's looking? No! Don't do it. You're here for a reason. Stop thinking those things." Or maybe it was in conversation... "Should I lie to impress these people and tell them I'm fine? Yeah, because if they find out the real you, no one will accept you." Even in class... "Jason, you can totally cheat on this test. No one even covers their papers. NO! Stop telling me to do this stuff. I want to be a better man. Stop it!"
Yeah. Imagine living in that on a daily basis. It was not picnic
In the process I joined a band and we started playing shows, toured, and also fed my appetite for ego and sin. I'll explain next time the not-so-pretty picture...
Post #10
"So you wanna be a rap/rock superstar, and live large, a big house, 5 cars, you're in charge, comin' up in the world, don't trust no body
gotta look over your shoulder constantly."
- the great American Poets, Cypress Hill (insert sarcasm here, even though I loved me some Cypress Hill back in the day)
What a great way to start off this chapter in these ol' Vans. Honestly, these lyrics are a glance into my head at the time. We were a band playing music- for Jesus. It was Christian based and we were loving the opportunity to play music. We played with bands like Ghotti Hook, Squad 5-0, Vroom, The Huntingtons, and more. It was great. I loved it. But for all the wrong reasons.
I could have been all about spreading the love of Jesus. Instead, I was all about getting girls, being the center of attention, and then seeing where it would go with any lady that showed me attention. Again, I loved it. Now don't get me wrong- we're were not be biggest, best thing since sliced bread, but we had a good run.
The problem was I was the "Judas" of the group. I lied, stole, and manipulated my way through the rock star terrain with my band mates, friends and family. I used it to make money, feed my ego, and live a lifestyle contrary to the lyrics I sang to venues of kids every weekend...
I was finally found out right in the middle of recording our CD and preparing for a spring break tour. They were devastated. They despised me- and they had every right. I was a two faced man living a lie. We finished the CD, did the tour (without our bassist and trumpet player, they had fill ins). It was awful. I felt horrible.
With people graduating, other things arising, and my feeding the flame of a band in distress- we went our separate ways. A couple of the guys I have yet to really speak with. A few have forgiven me, and some have just kept away.
I deserve the treatment. I made my bed and have had to lie in it to this day. God has forgiven me. He has continued to restore me. And now it was time to move on past the music, chasing fame, and trying oh-so-hard to be cool.
But before I graduated and moved on, God needed to shake me up a bit...
Post #11
God definitely shook me up a bit. A little less than one year before graduation, things began to unravel. My girlfriend and I had broken up. I had been going through things with the band, and my spiritual/emotional state was at least at terror level orange (or whatever the scale is at the airports & military bases).
On one particular evening a group of friends decided to carpool to a Connell's concert at Town Point Park in Norfolk. We met up in the Kempsville area of Va Beach and hopped on the highway.
While driving and following the car in front of us, everything changed. As we went to change lanes I lost control of the car. Life was spinning. It was I 64. 60+ mph. The car spun out of control as we flipped onto the middle concrete divider. We continued to roll. Roll. And roll.
We rolled about 4 times before sliding roughly 150 feet upside down on the interstate. We were the only car involved. Thank God.
There were three people in the back seat, a friend in the front (his car) and me driving. Our heads had hit the windshield. Our friend in the back seat who was in the middle didn't have his seat belt on.
We all got out of the vehicle before the paramedics arrived. No broken bones. No large cuts. No major bleeding. No one thrown from the car. No one lost a life.
Amazing.
As the paramedics arrived and got us into the ambulance- they began to check out everyone. Including my friend and I who had pieces of glass in our heads form sitting up front and hitting the windshield. As we talked with them. They couldn't believe we walked away. He said "In a normal car crash people tend to lock up their legs in the floor board and their arms to the dash to steady themselves. You both curled up in the fetal position (not normal) and if you hadn't- your legs on both sides of the car would have been severely hurt, if not crushed."
I just kept thinking of that the whole way to the hospital. In the ER, as I sat and listened to the glass pieces being pulled out of my head and hitting the metal tray, I thought, "God, why? Wat are you trying to tell me? What did I do that this is what you needed to allow in my life to wake me up? Couldn't you just write it out in the sky? Couldn't you mail me a letter signed 'from God.' Why this?"
My parents came to pick all of us up and drive us back to the college in NC. It was the longest car ride of my life. That next morning I woke up, turned to get out of bed, placed my feet on the floor- and stopped. Instead of jumping to my feet in excitement for being able to walk, I dropped to my knees. For the next hour I sang songs to God, thanked Him, and praised Him for the day. I knew I had been given a new lease on life. I recognized that God didn't have to save me or anyone else in that car crash. We don't deserve His grace, love and protection. But He did it anyway. Why?
Because He had a greater plan for everyone in that car, including me. Out of that car ended up being another pastor, a missionary to Asia, a wonderful musician & philosopher, and a dedicated mother & servant of God.
So yeah, God shook me up. I thanked Him and knew things needed to be different. I wasn't perfect heading forward, but I tried. My next adventure was just around the bend.
Leaving the confines of "Jesus College" and heading out into the world to be a youth pastor...
Post #12
From this part of the journey in these ol' Vans on- things seem to be a bit brighter. I think a big part of that is where my heart was at.
Before this point in time I was a big fan of just kind of pushing through life on my own with no thought of others- and no thought about God's direction. As I began to truly seek Him, things seemed to look up. Now don't get me wrong, it definitely wasn't perfect, but I was striving to serve Him.
So, we'll hop back into the story in the next time. Just wanted to take a break to set the tone. Oh, I found some photos of the car. Some friends went to go get our things and snapped these. A Geo Metro? Seriously. God had to have His hand in that for us to make it through.
Until next time,
Jason *over and out*
Post #13
Working with teenagers is tough. Don't let anyone fool you. They are unpredictable, unruly, and uninhibited when it comes to speaking their minds. I chose to work with them full time. Specifically with middle school students. Yes. I was insane, but I loved every minute of it.
God allowed me the opportunity to intern at a local church in the Va Beach area and upon graduation, they offered me a full time position. I was honored. I couldn't believe that was a real job. Working with kids and telling them about Jesus!? It was the greatest thing ever.
My first day on the job we went to see a high school senior whose dad had died. He was with a friend, they had been drinking up in his room by the look of things (empty 12 pack box and cans on the floor). We went to see how he was doing and extend a hand for love, support, and whatever the family needed. While in conversation, his dog had grabbed my leg and well, I will let you imagine the rest.
When I went to get the dog off, he growled intensely (teeth and all) and barked very loudly. The guy told me it would probably be better if I didn't disturb him. "You've got to be kidding me?!" I thought to myself. Moments later he was done, we prayed with him and his mom, and hopped in the car.
My boss looked over at me and said, "So are you still excited about youth ministry?" I didn't respond.
Little did I know- that was only the beginning of some amazing and challenging things to come. Meeting with that kid and his dog was only the tip of the iceberg. You have no idea...
Post #14
I was glad to leave the young man and his dog as a memory and move on to other things. In the many years of doing student ministry I dealt with other people's issues like: suicide, divorce, homosexuality, abuse (verbally and physically), sexual addiction, pornography, liars, alcoholics, cynics, angry parents, and the list goes on.
I NEVER thought I would be exposed to that, but I should have known better. In my Christian life, I've had a handful of mentors. Of that handful, all but one have left ministry. 4 of the men who really poured into my life ended up leaving the church because they slept with women in the church, prostitutes, or students. Out of control. "Is this really God's church?!" I thought over and over in my head. So stepping into ministry I knew I would see all the these things I guess, but it never really registered until I was in the thick of it.
What I did know is that I needed to guard myself against these things. But, unfortunately I didn't do a very good job. Coming from the past that I did, it made it difficult to trust people. So, as I began to see my guard slipping and Satan attacking, I gave into what I thought would be an easy (and one time) fix: internet pornography.
Being a single guy, doing ministry all day long with students, no real time for relationships- it seemed like the perfect solution. "So how do you do ministry all day and check out porn in the evenings and still think you're fit to serve God?" Great question.
I actually didn't think I was fit to serve God while it was happening. I beat myself up about it. Cried about it. Knew I should stop. Wanted to stop. Hated what I was looking at after the fact. Thought I was a loser who couldn't get the "real thing." I was spiraling out of control, but I liked it. It was a like a rush of endorphins when I would open up the search bar. They were all there for the taking. They were all there for me. Or so I thought. If you have never dealt with or struggled in the area of sexual addiction, count yourself amazingly blessed. If you have been a part of it- I hate to break it to you, but it is something that will never leave the confines of your mind... unless you allow God to do a true spiritual cleansing of your heart, mind, and soul.
When God comes in and cleans the Rolodex of images in your mind, enters your heart and fills it completely, and makes your soul whole in ways words cannot express- then you will see change. It took me opening up to a pastor friend a year into ministry and then having a handful of pastors hold me accountable at a beach house in Nags Head for me to truly begin the process.
But I'm glad someone told me- it's a process. Fighting the battle of sexual addiction is one day at a time with God at the helm. It isn't cold turkey and you're good. Anyone who tells you that is full of it. My accountability partners really helped me understand that and it aided me in the healing process.
So, God was doing His thing in my life, I was pushing along in ministry, and then I met her. And so I entered a new chapter in these ol' Vans...
Post #15
My wife and I went to youth group together, but we never talked. For two reasons: 1. I was a senior and she was a freshman, nuf said- and 2. I was dating someone pretty seriously and into other things (see post #7).
So we knew of one another, but it wasn't until about 8 1/2 years later that I would be meeting her again in a whole new light. I was still a youth pastor and was also heading up our college/career ministry. My roommate and I thought it would be a great idea to gather some people together for community, music, food and getting to know one another in the hopes to talk about God.
So we made the fliers, got the food, set-up the sound system, and 40+ people came out... in our two bedroom apartment. Insanity. It was so much fun though. A few girls showed up who didn't knock, they just came in like they knew me. Enter into the story , Carrie and friends. She told them she knew me and it would be a cool place to meet "Christian" guys. I was smitten by her instantly. We hit it off and she wasn't able to get rid of me. (I'm sure her version is a little different).
About 3-4 months into the whole "hanging out" process, I knew I had to tell her. I had to come clean with my past, my struggles, my lack of self-control, etc. In my heart I knew this girl was going to be the one and I had to come clean for her sake.
I remember it vividly. We had just got back form a date and I was dropping her off at her house. We walked into the kitchen which had just a single light on right above the table. When we sat down it was like those cop shows with the glow almost blinding and everything else around us was pitch black. I cleared my throat, and began to spill my soul.
The look on her face didn't read anything. It was blank. I kept talking. Sharing. Tripping over words. Hoping I was making any kind of sense. After awhile she reached out her hand, placed it on mine and stopped me... "Thank you." she said.
"Thank you for being honest with me. I knew some of those things about you, others I didn't. But, I am glad you decided to share that with me. I want to know you more and more every day. I want you to know me more and more every day. I see this going great for a long time to come. Jason, I love you."
I broke. The flood gates opened up. I was a little baby and she hugged me until it stopped. Then she shared some struggles she's had in life. I couldn't believe she trusted me with her journey and pain she had to deal with. She is the first and only person on this earth who truly gets me, brokenness and all. I knew that day she was the one I wanted to marry. And we did.
It was the beginning of a very crazy journey in Sept of 2004 as we joined as one together under God's leading. Then, some interesting things happened along the way...
Post #16
Being married is amazing. I cannot imagine sharing my life with my hot momma. She definitely makes me a better man. Once we got married, my personal craziness began to die down and we were a little more settled. I dug it.
We took a cruise to the Bahamas for our honeymoon, as soon as we got back (the day we got back) Carried sliced open her hand and we spent the evening in the emergency room, it was an interesting start. It was then I knew that our life together was going to be anything but boring. And I was right (can someone remind my wife of this fact?).
We bought a house at the beach, she was a nurse at CHKD in the PICU, I was a student pastor- life was good. Then the chaos began to happen. Carrie was pretty unhappy with her job, the schedule and having to see those kids in pain all the time. She came home one night and this was the conversation:
Her- "What do you think about me going back to school?"
Me- "Seriously?!"
Her- "Yeah. Seriously." (with a hint of uncertainty)
Me- "We can't even make it on two incomes... And you're my sugar momma."
Her- "Well, we would probably need to sell our house"
Me- (voice has now been raised) "What?! We live 6 blocks form the ocean! I ride my bike to the beach every day! I have lived for a moment like this!"
Her- "I know, but I want to happy when I go to work. I want to love my job like you do."
Me- "Well put babe, well put."
And so we were off, making upgrades, fixing our house, putting it on the market. She had already quit working at the time, things were getting tight. Did I mention we had no place to live, a car payment, credit card debt, we both had college loans, and could barely make it on two incomes? God was laughing at us...
Because He knew it was all good.
We sold our house for well over what we purchased it for. Paid off debt, car, college loans, and moved to a little apartment (to be closer to the church I worked at). Then God had a change of plans. For over a year I had debated if I fit. If I really truly fit where I was in ministry. I kept coming back to the word, "No." But I didn't want to believe it.
I wrestled with God, all the while preaching in the absence of our lead pastor who had resigned. 8-10 months later a new pastor came on board and I was still wrestling with those same questions. Now before you read this and think I hated the church I worked at or the people there, let's set the record straight... I love the people I worked with in ministry. I learned more there than I did in Biible College. They really raised me in my ministry development. I owe a geat deal to my family I have back at Living Stones/ Real Life. But, I had come to a place where I looked around and I didn't feel the joy anymore in my heart for serving Him. I began to ask God if ministry was for me? I researched jobs all over the country, pastor positions, IT and web jobs, even looked into ECPI. God closed door after door, until...
I logged on to the Forefront website and saw, "Looking for a Creative Arts Pastor. If interested, please apply." Hhhmmmm, is this a door? Is it just me wanting to move? Is it God speaking or me just being curious? I called, met with Vince, met with the leadership... and a few months later I was on a new adventure- in Va Beach! I had just moved to Chesapeake from the Beach to be closer to work and now I am doing the same commute backwards, ugh!
Honestly, I would drive double the distance to be at this place. I love Forefront. The people, the services, the small groups, service projects, the staff, you name it and I think Forefront really is on point.
In the move, we didn't really know anyone but the staff and during this transition something we never would have expected happened. A pain I had never experienced. It tested my faith and trust. God and I had it out. It wasn't pretty...
Post #17
I came home from a long day at work. It was good, but tiring. You guys know what I'm talking about. I had to drag myself up the stairs to our apartment door. I wanted to just relax, eat dinner and get into some comfortable.
While walking up the steps I heard some music. It was coming form our apartment. My wife isn't one for loud music. I open the door and it's some song I had never heard, but I didn't pay it any mind. Kissed my wife, sat down to dinner already prepared. If I had truly paid attention, I would have gotten it (all the hints). The dinner was hot dogs, mac & cheese, and it was by candle light. The songs in the background were love songs, but more a family kind of love song. My wife said she had a present for me... AND IT WAS IN THE BEDROOM.
Now fellas, if your wife says she has a present for you in the bedroom- you don't pass go, you do not collect two hundred dollars, you head straight to the bedroom (just something to tuck away for later guys). So I walk in, and she informs me there are two of them, one under the pillow and one after. I open up the first one and it's a bib that says "future skater" on it...
I started crying, she started crying, we were a big hot mess. Then she hands me gift number two and it says, "If you think I'm cute, you should see my daddy." Priceless.
I was so excited to be a dad. I wanted to have a kid so bad and we were thanking God all along the way. We were going to all the OBYN visits, getting things checked out and then came the visit no one expected. We were getting an ultrasound and the tech doing the procedure was extremely quiet. We were worried. Afterwords, they walked us into a room, but a different room than all the other visits. Not a good sign.
Our doctor came in to let us in on some hard realities. Our baby wasn't growing properly and the ultrasound could barely find a heartbeat.
Silence.
What do you do? What is there to say? What are we supposed to think? The doctor scheduled another visit 5 days from then to recheck and see. So we did the only thing we knew. We prayed. We had every person we know and don't know on God's green earth praying. "Our baby was going to make it" we would say after hours of prayer. "God is going to give us a beautiful miracle" we would say to one another.
The day arrived. We packed into the car and headed to the doctor's office. Like the movie, "Groundhog Day" I felt like everything was the same. We got into the room, the tech put the gel on her stomach, put the sensor to her belly. She searched, and searched. She tried some more. Tried everything.
Nothing.
No heart beat. Our baby was gone. Still connected to my beautiful wife, but so far away from us all in the same moment. Words cannot express the feeling. In that moment I boiled in my mind against God. I didn't understand. "God I love You. I follow You. I serve YOUR church! I honor my wife! Why this! Why now! WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY! What have I done that you would allow this to happen to us? I know we live in a fallen world, but God- it's me?! Your servant?! Don't you protect us? Don't you love our baby?"
Now I know all the "right things to say" and things to understand about a fallen world, bad things still happen to good people, yadda yadda. Save it. No one was going to convince me otherwise in that moment. I knew the Bible way and I didn't care. I was pissed off. I was angry. I wanted to talk to God about it. I wasn't mad at Him, but I really wanted some freakin' answers (only I am positive I didn't use the word freakin').
I drove Carrie the the hospital the next day. She had the DNC. She was drugged and hurting. We went home and cried for days. And we didn't really know hardly anyone. We felt alone. It was a horrible place to be. I said things to my wife about God that I later had to apologize for; to Him and to her.
God used our friends, family and the people of Forefront to bridge the gap from pain to hope. I will never forget it as long as I live. I owe the world to you. God brought healing through your calls, emails, meals, prayers, and love. It was amazing. It's something that brings tears to my eyes as I type this.
But God wasn't done with Carrie and I yet. More was to come. A little good, a little not-so-good, and a little in between...
Post #18
I remember the day we found out "Operation Everything Works: Part Deux" was a success and we were on our way to a little girl. I was reserved about being excited, yet could barely hold it in all at the same time. This go 'round, everything seemed to move like clockwork.
We went to the visits, did the check-ups and I couldn't be more excited about being a dad. They had scheduled to induce Carrie (on her birthday) so we woke up, went to the hospital, and knew a baby was in route (which I completely loved being a Type "A" must have a plan kind of person).
I was there for EVERYTHING. No lie. I hate blood. I hate pain. I hate the sight of needles (oddly enough with all the tattoos), but it was unreal. I wouldn't have traded the experience for anything in the world. Watching Chloe Elise Bedell come into this world was a beautiful thing. If you are an expecting dad or plan to be a dad, be there for it all. Don't be a wuss. Suck it up and support your wife sucker. She'll love you for it. Trust me.
Being a dad opens your eyes to a new reality. Being in charge of someone's growth, learning, feeding, changing, morals, guiding, directing, etc. It's a tall order. I ask God daily for Carrie and I to be the parents He wants us to be, to make the choices He would want us to make, and to put our family before my job as a pastor. Yep, the church is second to my family.
If I can be the best husband and father to them as I possibly can be with God guiding me- I will in turn be a better pastor and I believe God will honor my efforts for putting them first.
So now we're 8 months into having this little bundle of joy and she is great, I don't know what we'd do without her. But along the way raising her, we had some interesting moves in the last three and a half months that really changed our ideas of what it means to "listen to God..."
Post #19
When you get the opportunity to work in your sweet spot, what should you do? You could...
A. Accept the job and get going.
B. Interview, but see what else is available.
C. Take the job and two years later jump out of what you love because God said so.
If you chose "C" you'd be absolutely right. What in the world?! I couldn't believe it in a million years. I honestly never imagined, dreamed, or desired to be a lead pastor. But, God has a funny way of moving us even when we aren't ready, looking, or possibly ever going to be capable. That's the beauty of God's leading.
He takes us to new heights. He throws us into NASCAR-like traffic right after getting our license. He could care less if we are ready or not. Because He is with us. God did an amazing thing in my life and I couldn't ever imagine being in this place. But here I am...
A 29 year old, Husband, Father, Pastor, Mets Fan, and all around Lover of Life. I've seen quite a few things, disappointed God in a number of ways, but nothing really prepared me for moving in with my mother-in-law and taking on the responsibility of taking care of my family and my wife's as well.
And honestly, I don't think we are at all built to handle the loss of life. It's something I've blogged about here, and my wife will talk about from her ol' Vans in the next entry in this series...
Post #20
So, like I mentioned in the last installment, I've blogged about this here, but occasionally, my wife will be posting here and sharing thoughts on life, family and ministry here as our family serves Forefront.
Here is her journal entry in streaming thought on the loss of her mother...
Mom passed away around 4am Dec. 14th 2008.
She had been admitted to the hospital wed afternoon 12/10.
She was taken by ambulance after finally giving in and deciding to go to the hospital because her legs were extremely swollen and seeping fluid. My dad and i had been urging her to go to the doc for the past few weeks because she was having increased difficulty breathing and was becoming very short of breath when walking.
Over the past few months she had given going out to lunch with friends, going to Bunco, and any other activity that meant exerting effort. She only went to the credit union and McDonalds (the drive thrus).
The two weeks before she went into the hospital i had stayed home from work one day each week--first because i was sick, then because Chloe was sick. Both days i stayed home my mom fell and couldn't get up. The first time i successfully helped her, the second time i had to call an ambulance to come assist her.
Her diagnosis in hospital was just as before congestive heart failure. when we went to visit her she was her usually self stubborn and board. She was putting up a fight with the PT, i felt so bad for him. We didn't' see much improvement in her legs or her breathing but she didn't seem worse.
She wanted to go home so bad. Around 10pm the house phone rang downstairs and i didn't get to it in time. I didn't know anyone that would call my parents house that late so i thought it was my mom calling from the hospital. I called her room back and she answered the phone, i could tell she had been asleep. I asked if she called and she said no. I said well are you alright. She said she was fine. I said well go back to sleep, we will see you in the morning. She said okay and hung up.
That would be the last time I would ever talk to my mom.
A few hours later in the middle of the night Friday night I got a phone call from a doctor telling me she had gotten worse and couldn't breathe, she had agreed to let them put in a breathing tube and she was transferred to the ICU. Now my mom had made herself a dnr when she was admitted so i was really confused as to why she would be okay with a breathing tube, but I guess when you are short of breath and craving oxygen, you will do anything.
The doctor did say they agreed this was only a temporary thing to see if she could improve her heart function while on the vent. I wholeheartedly believe that my mom knew she was getting worse, maybe on the verge of dying and the doctor told her she would be sedated while on the breathing tube and would be comfortable. I believe my mom was okay with getting the breathing tube because she knew she would be kept asleep. I think she knew she wouldn't wake up.
The next morning my dad and i went to the ICU, the nurse was in there. She was hooked up to medicine for her heart and sedation. She was out and just looked horrible. Later that afternoon my dad and sister went back and they said her kidneys had shut down. They hadn't been able to wean a medicine that was helping her heart pump and while that medicine helped her heart, it harmed the rest of the body. I planned on going Sunday morning before church to see her.
Jason and I went to the staff Christmas party sat night. I got a phone call around 11 Sat. night from the same doctor I had talked to the night before. He wanted to know if we had been updated that day. i told him what i knew and there wasn't anything new. He even talked about if/when she got stable, she would need to go on the transplant list. I told him she wouldn't want to go through another surgery. She had been adamant about that.
A few hours later, the doctor called back. i knew when the phone rang that time what it would be. I answered the phone and he said " This is Dr. ________ again. I have some really bad news. You're mom passed away a few minutes ago. Even on the heart medications her heart just gave up."
I was in shock, although she hadn't been well for a while, it was still a shock. He asked if we wanted to see the body before the morgue took it, I said no. I had to go downstairs and tell my dad which was the hardest thing i have ever done. I had to comfort him as he wailed. I had to call my sister and tell her. Then Sunday morning I had to go to the hospital and collect her personal items which was incredibly difficult. Walking into that ICU by myself and seeing the empty bed where she had been the day before was awful. All the nurses looking at me knowing was hard too. They were very helpful and comforting but i was still there alone.
They handed me a bag and i broke down. How could my mom and all my memories of childhood come in a large white paper bag. The next few days were a blur with planning the funeral, contacting insurance companies, and having the viewing and funeral. Thank goodness for Chloe--she has been my dad's comfort and focus during this entire time. I am also thankful that God and my mom made the decision when she would die instead of it coming down to my dad having to make the decision to take her off the ventilator.
Thank you Carrie for sharing so openly. I love you and love your strength in all of this. God is continually rebuilding us. He's going to keep us moving in this journey.
More from these ol' Vans coming soon...
Post #21
So... as a family over the last year we've gone from two full time jobs to one full time job, moved from an apartment in with my in-laws, experienced a miscarriage, had a beautiful baby girl, experienced the loss of Carrie's mom, watched a dear friend move to Vegas, and I've trusted God enough in the midst to take on leading His church.
It's interesting to look at it all in the grand scheme of things. You'd think that as a husband, father & leader I would break down and lose my mind. The news flash is that in the confines of my home when I curled up next to my wife on the couch... I did just that.
But in the thick of it, as I prayed to Him to give me wisdom: God answered back. This is what I wrote in my little journal I carry in my bag everywhere I go...
"Jason, I've built you for so much more. I knew your path and what would take place. I knew the choices you would make and the burdens you would allow yourself to carry and I love you through it all. I picked you for this moment at this place to be a husband to Carrie, a father to Chloe and a leader to these people before you were ever born.
You trust me, right? Then please, take me at my word that I know what's best for you and my church. I will take care of your family. I will take care of my people. Just lead. Just be the man I called you to be from the very moment you asked me to be a part of your life. Live your life as an example of what it means to follow me. Not so you can boast about yourself, but so people can see what it looks like to be a true Christ-follower.
Guard your heart my friend. Don't let your past try to over take you, but instead learn from your experiences that I have the best life possible for you. While doing this, teach my people and the community around you to bury their old self and live for me. Quit living selfishly and trying to serve only yourselves (that includes you Jason), but instead, serve one another. Love one another. Take on each other's burdens. Do get hung up in the when, who, or how... just do these things because I commanded you all to. Don't worry about people's opinions about what my church should be or how you need to move. I have provided wise counsel, your leaders, spiritual men who will guide you to make decisions that honor me.
But don't neglect your family. Lead them and teach them about me. Let them know they are extremely important to you. While loving me first, they are the next most important love of your life. If the church is 10 or 10,000- it doesn't matter. Your family is a true test of the legacy you leave behind. Love me, love them, and love people. I will handle the rest, Jason. Don't you worry about that."
And here I am, just trusting his promises,
Jason *over and out*
Post #22: The Wrap Up
Thank you for sharing.
Lynn