What Happened To Me...

It's amazing how many friends I have made in the 7 plus years since I left active church ministry. Many have never heard my story and what happened to get me to where I am right now.

Here it is...

In 1993, at a Ressurection Band concert I became a Christian. What I mean is that I started to think about God. I had been raised Roman Catholic and was not a very faithful one to say the least. I never cared much for church. Anne and I had moved to Dallas where I was working in corporate sales. We were there by ourselves with no family or friends and I just got plain lonely. I complained to God and felt the desire to see about Jesus. I immediately became fixated on faith. I felt compelled to learn everything I could about God, the Bible, Theololgy and Christian Philosophy. I was hungry to know.

The more I learned the less interested in my sales job I became. One day I up and quit and decided to go into the ministry. I thought I would be good at preaching and helping people to find out about Jesus Christ. We moved back to Pittsburgh where I attended seminary and became a United Methodist Pastor.

The first 8 years were great. I served a small church in Pittsburgh, was the youth pastor of another suburban church and when I got my first full time ministry it was as an associate pastor at First United Methodist Church in Greensburg, Pa. I had a great 5 years there and felt like I was making a difference.

In 2000, I was asked to come to Lawrence Park United Methodist Church here in Erie. The pastor before me had died in a tragic accident so I knew it would be a great challenge to help the church grieve his loss and go forward. The first four years were great. The church was vibrant and began to grow. But with the growth came more people, more needs to meet and more stuff to do.

In the summer of 2005, something began to go wrong. I am the kind of person that wants to keep everybody happy. In a church that is impossible to do. But I tried and things really got bad. I tried to be on every side of every issue. If there was a disagreement, I tried to lobby both sides. When people wanted to see things changed I agreed just to make them happy. When people who didn't want to see things change got upset, I took their side when I was with them. No matter what the situation or what group I was dealing with they were right. I was playing both ends against the middle in order to try and keep peace in the valley.

It got so bad that I had to cover for my inconsistency and dishonesty with one lie after another. It got to the point where I didn't know the difference between the truth and the lies. I just said what ever I needed to say to get through the day. People that I loved got hurt. When they saw how I was being two-faced on so many things they felt hurt and betrayed. They had every right to be, because I had done them wrong.

But it became such a mess that I created a web of denial in my life where I could just pretend that nothing was wrong. I was the man of God. I was supposed to be the one who had it all together. But I didn't. In fact I was losing control. I became so depressed and anxious that I just didn't want to do anything or be around anyone. I did the best I could to keep up appearances but it was slowly becoming evident to many in the church that something was wrong. It was December 7th and we were in the middle of advent when the dam finally broke and everything collapsed.

I had gone into the office the day after a contentious meeting about the youth ministry. There was a disagreement about the leadership and people I loved were on both sides of the issue. They confronted me with the fact that I had told people on both sides that I agreed with them. I had no answer. I didn't want to deal with it...I just wanted to run away from it.

In the weeks before this confrontation, I had become severely depressed. I couldn't sleep because I just didn't want to wake up and face the problems of the next day. I began having severe anxiety attacks that caused me to curl up into a ball on the floor and cry. I felt stared at in crowds, became paranoid about what people were saying about me. I was completely delusional and was unable to deal with the problems before me. I decided that I wanted to kill myself. The week before my meltdown, on a deer hunting trip with my best friend Joel, I was sitting in the woods with a high powered rifle in my hands. I had decided that I would go into the woods but I wouldn't come back out alive.

Before I knew it, I had the barrel of the rifle under my chin, with the stock wedged against a fallen tree. I found a long, thin branch on the ground and started to push the branch against the trigger. But then I realized that I hadn't taken off the safety. I put the gun down with desperation consuming me. Could I actually take the safety off and pull the trigger. What about my family? Even though I had convinced myself they would be better off without me, I thought about the pain I would cause them. I thought of my friend Joel and realized it would be him who would find my dead body. I didn't want him to have to live with that. I wanted to die, but I just lacked the strength to do it. I came back out of the woods and went home. I said nothing to anyone about what had happened.

The next Wednesday after the confrontation at the youth meeting I spent a sleepless night trying to figure out where to go from there. In the morning, I made up my mind. Today would be the day I would die. I went over to my church thinking God would help me out of this, but people were there angry and wanting explanations. You may have noticed by now that I haven't mentioned God once when writing about this crisis. To me, at that time, there was no God. God was dead...I was dead. I had stopped believing, praying and trusting. In fact if there was a God, I blamed Him for my misery and pain. I wanted away from God. I wanted away from the church. Even if I had to die in order to do it.

After a very heated conversation with a few parishoners. I excused myself, and left the church. I got in my car and headed for home. I was in a trance and was watching myself from above, like some type of wierd out of body experience. I watched myself pull into the driveway hit the garage door opener and pull my car into the garage. I watched myself hit the door opener again and I watched the door go down. It was dark. I knew the next thing to do was to turn the car off and get out of there. But I was frozen there screaming at myself to stop. Then suddenly, I was back in my body again. I could hear the engine running and I could smell the exhaust. It was so dark. All I could do was think of this song by Pink Floyd called "Breathe in the Air." I just kept hearing the refrain over and over again. I kept telling myself to just breathe in the air and I would go to sleep and everything would be over. I felt myself fading away. Just as I was about to pass out a shock of energy pulsed through my body. I didn't hear a voice or see a vision, I just felt a huge shot of adrenaline.

I opened my eyes and came to my senses. Coughing and choking I reached up to the visor and pressed the button again. When the door started to come up, light flooded in. The air began to clear and my head stopped pounding. I staggered out of the car and fell onto the driveway. Something or someone had made me stop.

I discovered in an instant that I didn't want to die. But I was scared and didn't know what to do. So I called Anne and told her she had to come home from work. I told her that I had tried to take my life and that I needed to get some help. After about 4 hours of me coming clean with her about what I had been thinking and planning, we went to see our doctor. He diagnosed me with severe depression and told me I would have to see a psychiatrist. I quickly got sent to Stairways Behavioral Health where I saw a psychiatrist.

The first thing I had to do was sign a promise that I would not try to hurt myself again. I was allowed to go home and over the next week saw the psychiatrist several times. On the day of my last suicide attempt I took an emergency leave of absence, not telling anyone but my superintendent what had happened. I was told to stay away from the church and have no further contact with the people there. I needed time to heal.

In those first few weeks, I was diagnosed with severe bi-polar depression with psychotic episodes and extreme anxiety disorder. I began taking pills...lots of pills. I started seeing a therapist to talk through what had happened. I had been caught up in such a web of lies because the depression overwhelmed me and I had psychotic breaks that distorted my perceptions and made me extremely paranoid. I wasn't looking for an excuse, but it did explain some of the things I was doing and thinking.

After 8 weeks, I was feeling better. I felt like I was ready to go back to my church and start over. But at a meeting with the bishop, I was told that I would not be going back. A new pastor would be appointed and I was to be put on disability leave until I was declared healthy and functional. At that time I would be assigned a new church. This was not what I wanted to hear. I was devastated. My whole world seemed to collapse all over again. I withdrew away from everyone and rarely left my bedroom. I didn't want to see or be around anyone. Feelings of hatred for God and church people began to consume me. Even though my doctor and therapist felt like it would be integral to my healing to go back to my congregation and begin to repair the brokenness, no one was willing to listen. I was told to stay away from the church and the people. They were told to stay away from me. They were told by the church administrators that I needed a clean break and that by continuing to be in relationship with me they would be standing in the way of my healing.

On that day, I lost everything. My congregation, most of my friends and my career. I had been called psychotic. I knew that the bishop would never let me anywhere near a congregation again. What would I do? What would I become. I went into a hole that I did not really come out of for nearly two years. I was forced on to social security and I knew that I would never work again.

But after a couple of years, things began to change. During that dark two year period since I left ministry I had not set foot in a church, prayed or even looked at a bible. I was done with God. He had put me through enough. If He cared so much about me, why did He take everything away? I was done with Him, or so at least I thought I was.

One day a pastor friend invited me to come to his church. He told me there was a balcony there where hardly anyone ever sat and that I could go up there and watch the service without coming into contact with any of the people. He told me that He knew God still wanted to work in me. If I would just make myself available and open, God would make a move. I thought about that invitation for a few weeks, before I decided to go.

It took a few weeks of sitting in that balcony, but I finally began to open up again. After a couple of months I came down from the balcony and sat within the congregation. I asked God to guide me in what I should do and where I should go. I didn't get a definite answer, but I felt a peace come upon me that told my heart to just "be." I just needed to live and exist and figure out who I really was. I did this for another two years. I had started going to Erie First Assembly, mainly because it was large and I could be anonymous in a big crowd. No one would know I was a pastor. I was just another person sitting in a crowded pew.

I began to read the Bible and I discovered something about myself that I didn't really want to admit. I had never really been a Christian in the first place. Yes, I was a pastor and preacher who could talk about God and make others aware of Him. But knowledge was all I had. I knew about God, but I never really knew Him. I had been a Christian with my head, but not my heart. One Sunday at the assembly they had an altar call. When people began to come forward to give their lives to Christ, the pastor prayed a simple sinner's prayer. I didn't go up to the altar, but I prayed that prayer.

At that very moment I felt hope. I knew there would be a second chance for me. I knew that God had something in store for me. I knew that there was something He wanted me to do. The problem was that the four years away from the church had really caused my physical health to suffer. One of the big side effects of my psychiatric meds was that I gained weight. At my heaviest I was 318 pounds. I had developed type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure and a number of other issues. After I left the church I had started smoking and could not kick the habit.

At one point, my diabetes got so bad that I was taking 9 insulin shots a day. At an appointment with my diabetes doctor, I was told that if I didn't lose weight fast, my health was really going to deteriorate. The problem I was facing was that my meds worked against my diet, and no matter what I tried to do, I couldn't lose weight. It was not long after that when I saw a friend we knew from little league and she had lost a ton of weight. When I asked her how she did it, she told me about her weight loss surgery. All of a sudden it seemed like a viable option. She had lost 100 pounds and she looked and felt great. She gave me encouragement and I decided to go to one of the seminars. That was in October 2009.

On August 26, 2010 life changed for me. That was the day I had gastric bi-pass surgery. Since then I have lost 155 pounds. I no longer have diabetes or high blood pressure. I walk 11 miles a day and I am finally starting to feel like my health is coming back. The surgery was a scary process that took months of preparation and a total change in eating habits. Although some people say that surgery is a quick fix, it is by far the hardest way to lose weight. Because of my weight issues I had four different abdominal operations: hernia, gall bladder, appendix and gastric bi-pass. Everyone of those surgeries were 100% successful. Everytime I went under I gave everything to Christ and I knew he would see me through. There is something He still hs in store for my life.

Since my surgery I have preached a few times and I have taught some Bible study. It has been a little bit at a a time. So for now, I am content to be a house husband. I have fallen in love with my wife all over again and we have a friendship that is truly rooted in God. When I was a pastor, I was an absentee father who missed many of the events my kids were in. Now I go to everything. I am there for my two sons and they know it. I am committed to God and my family and I am open to whatever God has in store for me. I am ready and waiting. I'm not worried because I know He will place the opportunity before me. I just have to keep living, interacting and healing and God will help me make the choices.

I have a great ministry being a Christian mentor and counselor to many. I am also active in helping people to explore the spiritual aspects of weight loss surgery and have tried to help people who suffer from depression and anxiety disorders. It just seems that God keeps putting people who need ministry in my path. It is amazing.

I am devoted to and recommit my life to Jesus Christ every day. One day at a time as believer, husband, father and friend. I am grateful for the journey I have taken with God and would not change any of it...not even the darkest days. My journey has made me into the person I am today. Gone is the person that knows about God but doesn't know him. Gone is the man who couldn't tell the truth from a lie. Gone is the person who was too weak to be there for friends and parishoners. Gone is the person who would take all sides of an issue to please others.

Today, I only want to please God. I will stand for what I believe, make no more compromises and share the need for all to have a saving relationship with Jesus Christ. I am a conservative evangelical who believes that the Bible is God's inspired and inerrant Word for us to know and to follow. I believe in strong marriages, responsibility for parenting and accountability for the actions and choices of life. I refuse to be a victim. I make no excuses. I am still healing. I am a work in progress.

This is my story....what is yours?