John-boys
story,
written as a witness to some friends online.
Copied
here with permission
In May of 1987 I came upon my first taste of spiritual conversion. I was 20 years old… And I was already an alcoholic… And I had already tasted homelessness.
I entered a recovery home for alcoholics on June 1, 1987. I was young and I was extremely frightened. I was at the lowest point in life at that time. I suppose one could say I was just about at the lowest point a near teenager could reach.
After being forcefully thrown out of my parent’s home by my father, I now had nowhere to go. Dad had no choice but to use force. I had become extremely violent myself. Mom and dad were worried about me and really saw no alternative but to get tough with me. None of my friends really wanted to take me in either. I had become a burden to everyone who knew me.
I had two choices to make. Either I fought with all the sense of false pride that I had in me and remained homeless so as to show the world in my own stubbornness that I’m my own king, the ruler of my own heart, or I humbled myself and reached out for the help I truly needed before it was too late and I ended up dead. Today, as I look back, there is no doubt in my mind that had I not sought help I would not be alive today.
I remember that lonely night on the streets… the last night on the streets before I would finally surrender, finally humble myself and admit that I needed help. I had wandered the local streets of Windsor for hours, no where to go, feeling totally abandoned by God… abandoned by others… and if I could have escaped from even being with me I would have ran from myself forever. I hated myself and could’t stand to even be near me. That’s what it is to taste the thoughts of suicide.
I still recall how clear the sky was that last night on the streets. The air was cool and I was freezing and couldn’t stay warm at all. I looked up into the night sky with a million stars, and I said, “God, if you really do exist then help me.” There was nothing but silence.
A few moments later, again I looked up and said, “Okay, what do I have to do?”
And I remember hearing the words in my head “Surrender everything to Me.”
Look, here I am sitting here on the streets… homeless, totally broke, not a penny to my name, I have absolutely no possessions except the clothes I’m wearing and I hear the words “hand everything over to me.” ...and it wasn't a mugger or a thief saying it, it was God Himself!
I really didn’t understand what it meant. I had absolutely no clue! But yet, after two weeks of wandering the streets fighting and begging each night for a place to sleep, I felt a sudden urge to arise to my feet and finally go home, tail between my legs, speak to my father, apologize and most importantly, admit for the very first time that “I need help.”
I had not spoken to my father in two weeks. I thought, “He won’t want to see me. He won’t want to talk with me. He’ll reject me… rebuke me... Turn me away.”
I returned home the next day and sat on the porch waiting for my father to arrive home from work. I still remember that cold horrible feeling of utter rejection when he walked past me on the porch and entered the house as if I didn’t even exist. I nearly got up and walked away but something held me back, as if the Holy Spirit was saying, “You just stay put and wait!” I didn’t know much but knew enough to stay.
About ten minutes later my father came outside and sat down on the porch next to me. We were both silent for a few minutes. Tears began to stream down my face. I began to shake. I said, “Dad, I’ve really screwed up!”
Not saying a word, my father put his hand on my shoulder and gently rubbed my back. I kept saying it over and over. “I’ve screwed up! My life is such a mess!”
Finally, I turned to him and said, “What do I need to do to fix this?”
He just kept rubbing my shoulder. There was a bit of a pause, then he spoke, “John, you need help. Your mother and I are very worried about you. But we know that your problems are beyond our control. Are you willing to do whatever it takes to get the help you need?”
Without hesitation, I said “Yes dad, whatever it takes!”
I spent the next three months in a recovery home for alcoholics run by a Roman Catholic Priest named Fr. Paul.
Perhaps at least for the first few weeks the counselors tolerated my sobbing ‘poor me’ stories about what others had done to me that drove me to drink. But in all honesty that didn’t last very long. Eventually, a pivotal moment had to come in order that I would begin to progress spiritually and rise above all the real garbage and baggage that prevented me from feeling good about myself. That pivotal moment was the transition of going from “look what others did to me” to “This is what I did to others.”
This has so much to do with “Love God, love others” You know… the greatest Commandment... I’ve heard it said that gossip is murder. How many times did I ‘accuse’ others of fault so that I might look good… or so that others would look upon me with pity and say “Oh poor John.”
We all have moments of needed consolation. We all have things that are done to us that are truly not fair. I’m not necessarily speaking about those moments. I’m talking about moments when we twist the truth so that we look good. It’s a very common manipulative trait of the alcoholic… I mean to twist things around to make ourselves look good.
So here I was 20 years old, at the bottom pit spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Now I had to look at myself. I had no other choice. Except leave and go back to living totally selfish for as long as it could last. So as difficult as it was I stayed.
It’s too easy to look at others and say “yeah but if they weren’t so…” or “Why can’t they just …” There’s absolutely no spiritual growth in this. I won’t grow an inch if I’m looking at you. In fact, if I stare at your faults too long what spiritual qualities I may possess (graces) may all be but completely lost.
B..... reminded us in a recent post of something I too often forget. That is, that the only thing we can offer to God that did not come from God is our sins…everything good that we possess comes from God. Want more of it? Obey His will… Want to lose those good graces? Turn away from God and look towards the worldly.
I grew up well instructed in a strong Christian faith. Yet, what I share can really apply to anyone of any faith. By the age of 20, I turned my back on God and sought my own ideals of what would make me happy. It didn’t last very long. Far from being happy, I found only misery. For some, we come home rather quickly like a prodigal son or daughter. For some, not so quick but still the same we return to God before it’s too late. I suppose the sad reality is that for some still, they never do come back.
I went to Mass last night. And again, as painful as it is sometimes to look at myself it was as if I needed to be reminded of where I've come from. It was only a little over three years ago that I had fell prey to the new age and even the occult, just before my conversion began. (This present journey of conversion I mean...) But the hope in all this of course is in what direction I'm heading. This was yesterday’s First reading. It made me think of all the times I've taken my eyes off of Jesus in the past... both before and even during this present spiritual journey of conversion I attribute to Our Lady of Medjugorje.
All men were by nature foolish who were in ignorance of God,
and who from the good things seen did not succeed in knowing him who is,
and from studying the works did not discern the artisan;
But either fire, or wind, or the swift air,
or the circuit of the stars, or the mighty water,
or the luminaries of heaven, the governors of the world, they considered gods.
Now if out of joy in their beauty they thought them gods,
let them know how far more excellent is the Lord than these;
for the original source of beauty fashioned them.
Or if they were struck by their might and energy,
let them from these things realize how much more powerful is he who made them.
For from the greatness and the beauty of created things
their original author, by analogy, is seen.
But yet, for these the blame is less;
For they indeed have gone astray perhaps,
though they seek God and wish to find him.
For they search busily among his works,
but are distracted by what they see, because the things seen are fair.
But again, not even these are pardonable.
For if they so far succeeded in knowledge
that they could speculate about the world,
how did they not more quickly find its Lord?
Wisdom 13:1-9
By God’s grace I stayed relatively involved with this recover home for alcoholics, so many new friends I made, and I remained sober at least for the next 5 years. There were many ups and downs… many trials and errors… and I made many mistakes… Including mistakes that hurt others.
However, early on in 1990 (about 2 1/2 years sober) I fell off the wagon. This was only a brief fall though. This time, again by God’ grace, I quickly returned not just back to the 12 step program but I began to attend Mass regularly. It was during this time that I first learned about Medjugorje.
A lady at our Parish had just returned from a pilgrimage to Medjugorje sometime just prior to the war and loaned my mother a home video tape she took of the dancing sun. I remember my mother insisting that I watch this video. Finally I did. “Oh, that’s neat mom,” was my only response and then I was on my way to do other seemingly more important things. How I look back now and realize how much that must of just broke ‘both’ my mother’s hearts. Yeah, I was coming back to the Church but mom still worried about me just as any loving mother does.
In August of 1990, I made a trip to Northern Ontario to stay as a guest at a Catholic Apostolate community. I stayed until early 1991 when the first gulf war broke out. During that time I began to contemplate the religious life.
I began to learn many things about my Baptismal faith. Not just the nuts and bolts of Catholicism, but also the spiritual and mystical aspects of our faith. Things you rarely learn in Catechism or even during Mass. That is, unless one is very much aware of what is truly taking place during Mass. For me, this was not always so. I learned so much about Our Blessed mother… about her call to conversion… about the messages given at many apparitions. Catholic all my life, yet I never knew until then what it was to make a total Consecration to the Sacred Heart of Jesus or the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
I began to go to monthly confession. I began to go to daily Mass. For once in my life, I began to feel whole and complete. Not like something I could never place my finger on is missing all the time. Also for the first time in my life I was receiving good spiritual direction on a regular basis. Spiritual direction is very important. It’s an extremely vital element and a great asset to our continual spiritual journey in conversion. No man is an island. Very few can clearly discern and come to know the direction God points us in without proper spiritual direction. I know I can’t!
In February of 1991, I returned home to Windsor. Young and eager to seek out a calling to the religious life I soon found myself a novice with a third order Franciscan community. I enrolled in University and began to major in Communication studies (aka Journalism). Writing was my real passion but I never felt adequate enough to try it. For the first time in my life I saw just enough potential in myself to at least give it a try.
Around this same time, I joined the Sunday morning 11:00am choir at Assumption Parish. Our choir practice was on Saturday afternoons a few hours before the Saturday evening Mass. This one particular Saturday, the choir director announced to us as we were finishing that if any of us were interested in staying, there was a young man from Yugoslavia named Ivan who would be receiving a heavenly apparition from Our Blessed Mother before our Altar today.
Yes, it was Ivan, one of the six visionaries from Medjugorje. I can still remember the moment he fell to his knees and the apparition began. There were approximately 500 plus people in the Church. Babies were fussing… people coughing… kneeling benches dropping and hitting the floor. And it was a rather dull and dreary day. Yet, the moment Ivan dropped to his knees and the apparition began there was only utter silence…it was as if all time was suspended for the duration of this heavenly visit, which I believe lasted about 6 or 7 minutes… oh yeah and I almost forgot. An intense light shone through all the stain glass windows from both sides of the Church. A beautiful warm sunshine that lasted the rest of the day.
I may not have known or understood what was occurring at that moment, just as there is so much I don’t know or understand today, but today I believe Our Lady was planting a seed in my heart that has a great amount to do with where I am spiritually today. To this day , this arrangement and my participation on this wonderful Medjugorje forum remain the closest I've ever come to traveling to Medjugorje. I may or may not ever go there. That's for Our Lady to decide. Yet, I go to Medjugorje everyday in my heart
In early 1992, I went on a youth COR weekend retreat at a local Parish. Cor is the Latin word for heart. In this particular case Cor also stands for ‘Christ in others.’ I met many wonderful people on this retreat. This is where my future wife and I first met. She and I really connected with each other almost immediately. And for the first time since I began contemplating the religious life I now began to have doubts about who God was calling me to be.
There was something about her that made me feel very warm inside different from how any woman made me feel… every time I went near her...every time I heard her speak…each time she smiled. Though many times I enjoyed the companionship of friends both male and female I had never felt quite that way about someone before as I did with her.
I was two months from taking first vows to be a religious Franciscan brother when I approached my spiritual director one day with the request to leave as a Franciscan novitiate so that I might further discern if I am truly being called to the religious life. If I was going to make such an important commitment I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be tempted to change my mind after having taken first vows. Now I had apprehensions because of the feelings I was developing for her. My spiritual director commended me for coming to him and being honest. And in the spring of 1992 I left the Franciscans and began to date.
We had our ups and downs. Our relationship was not perfect by any means right from the start. Yeah, I broke her heart a few times while dating… twice breaking up with her before finally committing to a promise in late 1993 to the Sacrament of Marriage. On March 12, 1994, we were married before the presence of Jesus in the Tabernacle in the same Parish (St. Jerome) that she was baptized in as an infant.
That gentle and compassionate man she first fell in love with? She soon discovered shortly after marriage that I was not at all the same man. I began drinking heavy again. My whole attitude changed. Often, I was quite nasty with my words. Condescending… demanding… controlling… manipulative…and more and more I would lie, especially when it came to money issues. My greatest mistake in all the blindness I could possibly ever have was in leaving the religious life I failed to take my faith and morality with me when I left. My wife never knew what was about to hit her.
I had already fallen off the wagon prior to our wedding day but my disease was not yet showing its true colors. After almost 5 years of sobriety, a taste of serenity and peace by grace of God, once again I became a Saul instead of a Paul. This is why in recovery we never say “we are cured’. It truly is a one day at a time step by step process. And without our daily bread, turning to God each and every day and asking for help, a fall is really only one day away.
I have this feeling that if I continue sharing too much of this none of you my wonderful friends are going to like me very much any more. Please do hang in there. It does get better. And please trust me on this one! Judging by the tears streaming down my face right now I sense that it’s much more difficult for me to be sharing this about myself than it is for you to be reading it. And like I said earlier, if it helps just one soul out there tonight understand that the hardest of us sinners is still truly loved by God, then yeah, I’m willing. Maybe someone out there tonight wants to put the bottle down and get help… Maybe they need to know that they are not alone in how they feel... Or in what they’ve done…And just maybe they need to know that they CAN actually be loved and truly learn how to love others.
My wife and I bought our first and only home we ever owned shortly after our son was born. For the first few months we lived at her parents. I worked for her father as a drywall taper. On off hours I would work on our new home trying to prepare it for us to move in.
I didn’t have God in my life any longer. I didn’t pray. I didn’t practice my faith. Once in a while I would attend Mass with my wife and her family sad to say, just to keep from anyone saying anything to me about not going. Looking back in hindsight, I don’t think I could have been any more shallow of a person. Yet, for as much as I abandoned God, He still willed me to live and breath.
I remember the evening we went to see the real estate agent about purchasing this home. I looked over and said to my wife. “Now you let me do the talking.” I didn't have a clue what I was doing! Yet that’s how I was all the time… controlling and manipulative. I had to have control over every situation and I rarely if ever included her in any decisions. So many times I would come home and ‘tell’ her what we were doing tonight or tomorrow or this weekend. I never included her in anything.
One evening after having done some work in our new home and after having drank a half case of beer (12) I packed in my tools and headed back to her parents where we were staying. I was riding a bike at that time. I didn’t have a license or a car yet, which was a good thing because I was never sober long enough to drive.
It was now dark, maybe about 9pm or so. While riding back to her parents I passed two young men walking up the street. One of them uttered something to me as I passed by. I turned around and came back towards them to find out what was said. All I remember is lying on the ground trying to protect my head with my hands. They were wearing steel toe boots. I received about 50 kicks to my head, stomach and chest. All I kept thinking is “My little boy is not going to know me.” I kept frantically praying for God to make it stop. Finally it did. I laid there off the side of the road as a few cars passed by. No one stopped.
I was bedridden for about 4 weeks with two fractured ribs. It could have been so much worse. In fact today, I believe only by God’s mercy was I spared something much worse. However, at that time I began to sink deeper into self pity and I began to blame God for all my problems. The work I did fell into the category of ‘self-employment’, so there was no supplement while I was off work. By the time we moved into our home we were already behind on the mortgage.
There was never any peace in our home. How could there be? No marriage can work unless the two become one. My wife certainly was willing. Where was I… her mate?
One day on the job I asked my customer for an advancement in pay. I was doing a drywall job on my own aside from her dad. The customer gave me half of what I had quoted him. The customer no sooner left and I packed in my tools and headed to the bar. It was noon.
I stumbled in the house that night shortly before midnight. Nothing in my pockets but a little bit of change. There was my wife standing in the kitchen with her mom and sister-in-law. They were putting away two large boxes full of food. I asked where it came from, all this food. She didn’t answer. I asked again. Quietly, she said “We needed food John. The Church donated it to us.”
How many times I stumbled in late at night from the bar, my wife sitting on the couch quietly cradling one of our children who was sick? How many times I made her even bundle up the children and head out to the liquor store to get me my booze. Remember, we had no car. Even the dead of winter she would hop a bus, the kids with her, and run out to get me alcohol. She feared leaving the kids with me, and she feared saying ‘no’ to me.
This went on for a few years. There’s way too many tales to tell about how rotten I was. Perhaps it’s not necessary at this point. I think by now everyone gets the picture. Besides, this is really beginning to get unbearably painful for me… Yet, at the same time there’s something tremendously therapeutic about owning up to who I was… Perhaps because by God’s grace alone I’m not that same person today.
At the beginning of July 1997, all of this turmoil would come to a boil. A storm would hit hard…then would come peace. My wife came to the bar early one evening. She had enough! It was time to lay the cards on the table and find out where she stood as the mother of our children and as my wife. She meant business!
We walked for a while that evening. I had just arrived at the bar after work and had not yet begun to drink. I was still sober. She opened her heart as we walked about her concerns… about her worries…about her hurts and her pain. I listened for the most part except to butt in from time to time in my own selfish defense. In the end I told her to leave…So she did. That was the 1st of July, 1997.
One week later, I would find myself all alone. Not just without my wife and children, but without anyone but myself. My parents and family were no longer tolerating me. Even my ‘drinking buddies’ didn’t want to hear it.
On July 8th, I woke up to a phone call. It had been over a week since they were gone and since I had heard a word from anyone other than those I drank with at the bar. It was my mother-in-law on the phone. She was only calling to see if the phone was disconnected yet. When I answered, there was a silence for a brief moment. Then she began. I won’t repeat here what she said, but I will say that I only listened and never said a word back to her. I knew better.
After hanging up, I sat back on the couch and began to cry. It all started to hit me. Everything I was doing. Everything I’d done. I happened to look up at the wall and suddenly noticed the family portrait that hung there for years was gone. I actually lived in that house for the past week and never even noticed. That’s how much I was wrapped up into myself.
A short while late, I phoned my mother and said for the second time in my life those extremely humbling words, "I need help!” My mother was there within minutes, thanks be to God! And on July 8, 1997, I entered that same recovery home for the second time in my life. I just celebrated 10 years sobriety this past summer. But it’s still one day at a time. If I pick up a bottle today, It’s all over. If I turn my back on God, it's even worse!
About the disease of alcoholism… they say that the drinking makes up only about 5% of this disease- ‘dis-at-ease’. The other 95% is our thoughts, our actions, our in-actions, our attitude, most of all our inability to love and to receive love. I’ve often wondered if this disease was mislabeled. As an alcoholic I lack something. If you want to get into the science of it, go ahead and call it a chemical imbalance all you want. I won’t argue that. I’m not a doctor. But the bottom line is, by nature it’s the in-ability to respond to the needs of others (myself included) with love and an open heart. To me, that’s the true definition of alcoholism.
As I mentioned earlier, I’ve been sober for over ten years. Yet, it wasn’t until three years ago that my wife and I separated. In fact, it will be three years to the day this December 8th, Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Why? What went on for 7 more years that would bring us to separate if drinking was the only issue in our marriage?
The disease of alcoholism is all about ‘selfish pride.’ When I first got sober, I had an overwhelming amount of shortcomings within myself that I needed to overcome. Only by God’s grace can any of us rise above our selfishness. I was now sober, but I still lacked something extremely essential to my very existence. I lacked a relationship with Jesus.
When a man and a woman come before the Altar, before God and make their vows, they are united together as one with God at the center of their being. Make no mistake about it! Any marriage that lacks God at the center will not stand united for very long. Just look at the divorce rate today in a world where so many have abandoned God. The stats run parallel to each other.
I failed to put God at the center of my life when I entered into Holy Matrimony with my wife. She certainly wanted it! I still remember my father-in-law to this day, lecturing me just prior to our wedding, “When the two become one, it’s not 50/50 it’s 100% from both of you.” Sometimes I can’t help but feel, if only I had listened.
My illness is self centered. I am a crucifier by nature. I am a Saul. And anything I do that bears good fruit I only do by God’s grace. If I am myself, doing only what I want to do at any given moment, you will witness nothing but selfishness, ego, and pride.
A few years into sobriety my wife became very ill. I won’t mention her illness here out of respect for her because she is a bit private about it. But what I will say is that all in all she needed support right from the start. She needed to feel loved through this illness. She needed a friend. I failed miserably in this area. Of all the rotten things I’ve mentioned thus far, the most horrible of all my selfish actions and in-actions was that I simply wasn’t there for her when she needed me the most. In fact, quite the opposite, I ignored her pleas for help and support. Everything from doing the dishes and laundry for her to giving her a hug and telling her "I'm here for you." I failed! I am ashamed to admit this but I must. It’s extremely difficult to look back over the past ten years and see the numerous times I failed.
Not long before we separated, something very powerful began to occur in my heart… not at all by my doing... something miraculous… something that only could have come from God. And why, I still can't fathom. I never deserved it! Then again, perhaps this conversion is not so much for John's benefit as it is for those who I affect.. my wife and children especially!
I began to go through a conversion. It was sudden…and it was rather quick. It was as if Our Blessed Mother stepped in and said “enough! You’ve asked me for help, now let me help you!” And from here, I began to change rapidly. The way I understood things I mean…I began to pray more…more and more daily…I began to look at myself and what I was failing to do…and I began to turn back towards God. Perhaps in one sense it was too late. My wife and I would still separate. But perhaps, it was only too late according to ‘my plan’ not God’s.
The true definition of Satanism is serving self. In fact, from what I’ve understood without actually reading it which I don’t encourage anyone to do, that’s how the satanic bible written by Antoine Lefaive begins. This is the complete opposite of "love God, love others." I reached a point in 2004 when I suddenly realized that basically I was marked with the number of the beast. I realized that if I was to die at that moment, chances are I would not see the kingdom of God, EVER! And that really frightened me! It knocked me off my feet!
Before conversion, I persecuted each of you. No, you didn’t even know me by name. But I spoke a mean tongue again you, against Christianity and against the Church. I criticized decisions that came from the Vatican. I judged priests. I judged our religion. I judged the devout. Yes, I judged all of you. And everything I did was for my glory… everything was for me… everything was about me and what I could obtain for me.
All the while, all of you were praying for me. Again, you didn’t know me by name... But you were responding to Our Blessed Mother’s call, “pray! pray! pray!” You simply prayed for my much needed conversion! You never accused me in return. You never judged me back. You only welcomed me home. What I did in the past did not matter. I was forgiven. What mattered is that I came home.
I’m 41 years old today. Hopefully God willing I still have a life ahead of me. What will I do now with this life God wills me to live each day? Yeah, I ran with the worst of them before conversion. Bikers, drug addicts, ex-cons, you name it, I was there. I woke up in strange places. Often I woke up not being able to recall where I had been the night before. But by grace of God only it truly is in the past.
I remember going to Confession for the first time in over ten years. I actually lied in the Confessional that day. I came out, did my penance, got up from the kneeler and went and stood back in line again. The only time I recall ever going to Confession twice in one day.
The second time in the Confessional I was honest. “Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been ten years since my last confession…” Previously, out of embarrassment I had mumbled that it had been only 1 year. I remember confessing all these horrible sins. I honestly thought the priest was going to call the police and have me arrested... He never said a word... At the end he simply absolved me of all my sins.
I was tired… I was weary… and I hurt so much…but most of all, I didn’t want to hurt others any longer. I just really wanted to come home.
Forgiveness is our greatest need. I really believe this. It's a greater need than air, water, or food all combined. For without mercy where do any of us really stand? We all want to be loved. We all want to be accepted. We all want to be liked. But at the end of the day, when all is done and we stand before God in final judgment, it is forgiveness we yearn for the most.
“For where your treasure is, there also will be your heart.” Matthew 6:21
Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.
God bless everyone! love John-boy.
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