With a Song in My Heart - Chapter 7

Waiting for the feeling to subside,
Paranoid, I melt into myself.
They say I'm to reach inside and find
the broken part of my machinery.
Psychoanalyze the chapters
on the path to my darkest day.
Searching for the answers,
all I see is damage through the haze...
Damaged, Queensryche

At this point in our tale, to stay on the course, I'll need to do what is more like an outline of events. The point of my tale was to center around two things: God, and Music. Starting in 1984, my life would run way off course. God would become nothing more than an afterthought, and my beloved music was put on the shelf. Music did however still have a huge impact on my life, and more than once music diverted my attention to God, even if only for a moment.

After the last prayer, I returned to school. I started where I left off, yet my new life without God would alter my priorities. It could not have been more than a few weeks before I found a nice girlfriend to live with (and have sex with of course). Too bad she wasn't a fan of drugs and alcohol. By June of 1984, she was gone, I dropped out of school, and my addictions were worse than before.

My life as a vagabond was now in full swing. Jobs were only for money, not for any desired career path. Home was wherever I could find it, sometimes with roommates, sometimes an apartment with Dad's help (or a girlfriend's help). Friends were only people I partied with, instead of meaningful relationships. I knew nothing of love with my girlfriends, but I was always happy to get laid (and that wasn't very often).

If there was any bright spot in my life, it was music. The party frequently went to a concert, where I continued to see my favorite bands. My dreams of playing my own music had died though. I didn't think I would ever get to play again. The joy of music also bought the sorrow of knowing I could play, but didn't play. "To be a rock, and not to roll" as Led Zeppelin put it. The music burned my soul with every note, the agony and the ecstasy.

In 1986 I met Lisa, and began a tumultuous relationship with her. Sex and drugs were what brought us together, and made the relationship feel good sometimes. We married in 1988 in spite of warnings from friends and even my former pastor. Sarah was born in 1990, David in 1992. My drug and alcohol use never subsided completely, and eventually wrecked the family once and for all. We separated in 1996 and divorced in 1997. If I were to write out the details of our dysfunctional life together, I could fill a library. Needless to say I was not a good husband and father, selfish and angry. I shall leave Lisa's issues aside, as they are for her to sort out.

There are a few God stories in that part of my life worth noting. My life was not all bad, and God was present, even when I didn't know it, or want Him there:

- Seemed as though every time I would get to a place where I had ingested enough drugs and alcohol to forget Jesus ever existed, Stryper would pop up on MTV. They were the only Christian band to ever cross over into mainstream secular media at the time. Needless to say I was not pleased to be reminded that God loved me. God used music to poke me, often, even in the darkest times.

- Lisa and another friend helped me to buy a drum set. I rarely had a chance to practice (apartment life), and had no one to play with. The drums were eventually sold after Lisa and I separated. We tried to get me jammin' again, though...

- At a concert, heavily drugged, I had a vision of two possible futures. In one, I was a huge star. I was the embodiment of rock and roll, the one and only Rockin' Ronnie. Yet as I pondered this future, the Holy Spirit spoke to me, "What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world, yet loses his own soul..." In the other vision, I was with family, children, Thanksgiving. Lisa and our children were there (we were not married nor did we have kids at this time). Fearful of losing my soul (or dying), I settled down with Lisa. About 5 years later, the vision of Thanksgiving with our kids came true, just as I had seen it...

- Lisa was Jewish, I was the fallen Christian. We never argued about religion, yet had some great conversations. I will never forget the day Lisa came out of the room crying after reading Isaiah 53, saying "Oh my God! The Messiah is Jesus!" We did go to church for a short time, but our faith never became anything other than a passing fad. Drugs and dysfunction were the cornerstone of our life together. God still left His mark, though...


There are too many stories to tell about jail, homelessness, a few failed attempts at drug treatment. We'd be here all day. Sometimes I felt as if I would have been better off if I had never become a Christian. "Ignorance is bliss." But God pursues us, He loves us, He truly wants us with Him, now and always. His gift of faith was too deeply embedded in me to ever let me get too far away from Him. It is a shame that during my time away from God, I wrecked every possible part of my life and my relationships: Family, friends, jobs, homes, finances, legal. No part of my life was spared from destruction.

Now separated from the only family I new over the last ten years, I was more lost than ever. After spending some time in jail from December 1996 to January 1997, I would hit the streets again. But this time I would seek to make a change that would ensure I would never hurt myself or others ever again.

Defeated and broken, yet with a hope the God could only give, I would look for help in a way I had never done before. I had nothing but the clothes on my back when I started my search, but before the year was out, I would finally get a life...

Chapter 8, coming soon to The Eye of the Storm...


The Journey Continues... 

...

With a Song in My Heart - Chapter 6

Oh woe is me

I feel so sadly for you 

in time 

bound to lose your mind 

live on borrowed time 

take the wind right out of your sail...

Seasons of Wither, Aerosmith 

A new creation in Christ...

"I found it." I remember way back in the day when that phrase was seen on billboards all over town. Well, I certainly found it, or found Him.  My first days of Christianity were straight out of the 2nd Chapter of Acts.  Filled with the Spirit, I began a new life.  It was February 1983, and I was all of 19 years old. 

First thing I did was quit, well, everything.  I left my cigarettes in the trash at the 'counselors' house.  Drugs and alcohol were out, too; I did not have a drink or drug for about a year.  The power of the Spirit was overwhelming, and I was not about to do anything to spoil it.  Besides, I was a "Christian" now, and Christians aren't supposed to do things like smoking and drinking.  Thus began my new life.  Jesus had made me a brand new man, changed me completely.  Or so I thought.

The first few days were quite amazing.  Others could feel the "power" pouring off of me.  When I took the hands of a friend and told them how much Jesus loved them, they could feel energy of God's Holy Spirit surge through my hands.  More than one person shrunk back with what was almost like a look of fear, because a mere mortal man cannot make that kind of power.  My Mom felt it, too.  It was a glorious time, and it lasted all of about three days.  When the glow of the Spirit subsided, I was left to a life of my own faith.

I began to attend church on my own for the first time.  I had been to church a few times as a kid, but it was not by choice.  Now, I was eager to learn, and hungry for the power of the Spirit that I once felt.  I listened to Christian music instead of the worldly stuff I grew up with.  Stryper (christian hard rock band) came out with their first album in the fall of 1983, which was a great relief because they were actually a hard rock band, not soft wimpy band like so many of the Christian artists I was listening to.  I also practiced my drums, but I did not dream of being a star anymore.  It was during this time of church and 'Jesus music' that I was inspired by three key scriptures:

Isaiah 40:31
But those who wait on the Lord
      Shall renew their strength;
      They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
      They shall run and not be weary,
      They shall walk and not faint.

John 3:8
The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.

Matthew 4:19
"Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men."

Inspired, yes.  But I was also very naive, confused, and eventually found myself trying to be a Christian based on my own perception and my own strength.  My devotion to studying scripture was matched only by the fervor of my college education, where I was pulling very close to straight A's.  I went to church two or three times a week, and I watched those TV preachers of the 80s.  I was going to be the best darned Christian ever, and God was going to give me the perfect girlfriend.

Wait a minute.  A girlfriend?  Yes, this is where the train started coming off the tracks.  I didn't understand it at the time, but while I danced along thinking I was all brand new, time wore me down, and revealed that underneath the smiling born again christian was a body of flesh.  I had hunger, desire, even lust, just like everyone else.  The confusion in me was unbearable.  I am sure Satan was happy to intensify my confusion, too.  My walk with the Lord turned into a crawl, akin to the poor guy dragging himself across the desert with no water.  I still went to church, but only because I thought that is what Christians had to do, not because I wanted the fellowship.  Looking back, I never really plugged into the Body of Christ.  I was "Super Christian", a spiritual Lone Ranger.  My Christian life was not going to last long.  My crash and burn would be the fall of the ages.  The prodigal son would have been impressed.

The scriptures inspired me, but I really didn't know how to follow Christ, or be led by the Spirit.  Looking back makes me feel sad, remembering how lonely I felt, even though I knew God was with me.  The scriptures make more sense to me now, but it took 25 years before I could "walk the walk".  As 1983 came to a close, I found that I was profoundly moved by, and frustrated by, something that Paul wrote:

Romans 7:15
I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.

All is quiet on New Year's Day
A world in white gets underway
I want to be with you
Be with you night and day
Nothing changes on New Year's Day

New Year's Day, U2

Torn by the war between my spirit and my flesh, I stumbled into the new year.  I remember listening to that U2 song as the New Year began.  Alone at midnight, desperate to be filled by God, but empty.  Hungry to feed the flesh, but denying myself in a manner like some religious sadomasochist.  I knew God was real, and that Jesus was the only love that I would ever need.  But I also knew that my faith had degenerated into a man made religious mess, instead of a life moved by God's Spirit.  I hated the man I had become. 

Frustrated, angry, sad, I would pray again.  But this prayer would be far different than my prayer of longing of the year before.  It went something like this:

Dear God,

I love you, I know you are there.  I long to fly with You on wings like eagles, but I don't know how to be moved by the Spirit.  I have tried my best, but all of my efforts have led me to a life of cold religion.  I don't know myself anymore.  I can't live like this.  So I am going to go back to a life that I recognize, a life I understand, even though it is just a life of sin.  I beg of you, please, if you can tell me what I did wrong, how I missed the spiritual life, please give me ears to hear.  I still believe in Jesus.  Show me how to live, and I will follow.  Till then, you know where to find me...  Amen...

And with that prayer, my church life was over.  God let me go, too.  If you listen closely, you can hear the faint echo of Satan's laughter.  His deceptions to steer me away from the Spirit had, at least for the moment, succeeded.  When the new school semester started in January of 1984, I was determined to be happy and free, and do all the things that religion had prevented me from doing.  I was also determined to feed my flesh, too.  It had been so long.  I decended into a life of darkness and madness, insanity and heartbreak.  My knowledge of the hidden spiritual world might have allowed me to find great power and control, even in a life of sin.

Too bad I was a drug addict and an alcoholic, and would have no control over my own desires...

With intellect as my guide, and lust as my fuel, the animal in me began to feed once again.  Try as I might, I could not get Jesus out of my rear-view mirror.  Like Jonah running from God's call, I would live in the belly of a whale called "Sin" for another 13 years...

Chapter 7, coming soon to The Eye of the Storm...


The Journey Continues...

...

With a Song in My Heart - Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Like waking up from the longest dream

How real it seemed

Until Your love broke through

I was lost in a fantasy

That blinded me

Until Your love broke through

Love Broke Through, Phil Keaggy

Careful what you pray for...

So where did we leave off?  I was in a drug treatment program, and Jesus was gently knocking at the door to my heart.  As it turned out, I completed the program successfully, and headed home to live a clean healthy life.  Yeah, as if a 19 year old knew how to live a healthy life.  I did what any normal 19 year old would do to build a new life: I got a job (for money), and I got a girlfriend (for sex).  Yes, that is all I need for the good life, money and sex.  I had it all figured out.  Since I was not doing drugs or drinking, my success was guaranteed, right?

I still practiced my drums, but I did not play anywhere.  I just dreamed.  I went to concerts throughout 1982 like always (minus the drugs), and continued learning new drum tricks from the professionals.  I dreamed and practiced, but I did nothing to actually chase my dreams of stardom.  Being a star to my girlfriend was all that mattered now.  She loved me, and she loved watching me play.  We were happy together.  It was all just perfect...

Sort of...

I was sober, but I wasn't growing, changing, or doing anything that would lead to maturity.  I was just a kid that had a girl to play with, and oh how I loved playing with her.  It just so happened that this girl had "religious" parents that did not approve of me.  Looking back, I am sure that they prayed a lot for their daughter, and me.  As the year came to a close, the happy boyfriend / girlfriend relationship started to unravel due to our youth and instability.  As our relationship unraveled, so did my sobriety.  The new year began with a thud, followed by renewed hope, and then even more confusion.

Lost and aimless, a familiar face would step in to try to help me find a good path for my life.  My dad lovingly helped me get a place to live, and paid my tuition for my first semester in college.  The sting of losing my girlfriend began to subside, and I happily devoted my energy to school.  I think in some ways I was happy, but as we head to the core of my tale, I am here to tell you that I was not happy.  I was hungry, but I didn't know what I was hungry for.  Driven by a hunger that I did not understand, I would do something that I had never done before in my life...

Dear God...

I can remember it like it was yesterday.  It must have been after midnight.  At the age of 19, I dropped to my knees, and said my very first honest to goodness prayer.  Have you ever walked into a dark room or an empty building, and called out, "Is anyone here?"  There is that moment of anticipation, of not knowing whether you are alone or not.  That feeling of curiosity was overwhelming.  I was trying to talk to someone without knowing if anyone was listening.  My little prayer went something like this:

Dear God, there is something missing in my life, but I don't know what it is.  I have a life and I have some stuff, but there is still a big empty hole in me.  If you are out there, who are you?  And what is it that is missing in my life?

That is paraphrased, but that was the core of the prayer.  I suddenly found myself engaged in a search for meaning in my life, something I don't think I had ever done before.  The most startling aspect of this story was God's quick answer.

The following morning found me sitting in a very large and very empty cafeteria.  I was sipping a cup of coffee, and mulling over what I had, and what I had lost.  Casually, a guy wandered up to me, and in this big empty cafeteria he asked me, "Can I sit here?".  My first thought was, "Are you kidding me?  You could sit anywhere.  Why here?".  My mouth said, "Sure, have a seat."  He said, "You look a little down.  What is going on?"  For some reason, even though he was a stranger, I let it all out.  I said, "The girlfriend this and the drugs that and I am lost and confused and lonely and I don't know."  And this guy, who I have known for about 2 minutes said, "I don't know the answers to your problems, but I know who does have the answers:  JESUS..."

And the Spirit of God dropped on me like the green slime on a Nickelodeon game show; it felt like warm honey hit the top of my head and oozed its way all through me from top to bottom.  Then the Spirit spoke to my heart, "Remember what you asked last night?  Who am I?  I am Jesus..."  The shock value was off the charts.  Not only had I never prayed before, but God answered my first prayer.  Then He touched me, from the inside out, something no human could possible do.

It is safe to say that I was impressed.  I was a believer now, but still at least one step away from sealing the deal.  I discovered quickly that believing was not enough.  As my stress level grew, as my girlfriend slipped further away, as the drugs persisted in my life, my desperation grew.  I sort of forgot about my experience with God, if you can believe that.  So I looked to my fellow man to aid me in my time of trouble.

Looking back, it is ironic that my now ex-girlfriend's parents would offer to help.  They sent me to a friend of theirs, someone I thought they said was a "counselor".  I went to this person's house to talk about the problems in my life, and hopefully find some answers.  It was February 13, 1983.  I was 19.  This guy was nice enough I guess.  I poured out my heart, unloaded all my troubles.  But for a counselor, he was a little strange.  When I talked about my drug problems, he talked about Jesus.  When I talked about losing my girlfriend, he talked about how much Jesus loved me.  When I talked about how I hurt, how confused I was, he told me that Christ died for me.  He wasn't helping me with my problems very much, some counselor he turned out to be.  All he talked about was religion. 

Then he asked me if I would like to pray.  Sure.  What have I got to lose.  I quickly discovered that I was praying a whole new prayer, something more than my first prayer.  I believed it with all my heart, or I would not have spoken the words.  You probably know some form of this prayer...

Heavenly Father, I come to you in Jesus Name. 
Yeah, I do God.  You answered that other prayer.   

I am a sinner. 
No doubt about that one, I have done lots of bad things.   

Thank you for sending Jesus to die for my sins on the cross. 
This counselor guy said that you did that for me, so I will believe him.   

I believe that Christ was raised from the dead. 
This guy said you did that, too, so okay.   

Please forgive me all my sins. 
Please...   

Please come into my heart. 
Boom!  He did...

It was here that God did something that forever seared my memory.  He came INTO my heart.  In hindsight, I believe it must have been the entrance of the Holy Spirit.  As I was praying, in my mind's eye I saw the mushroom cloud of a nuclear explosion.  It started in my heart, and expanded outward.  I could feel it.  It slowly worked it's way out until my entire body was filled with the sensation.  I felt warm, tingly, alive.  I felt like I could literally float out of my chair.  It was amazing.  Then the "veil" that kept me from the world of the spirit, from knowing Him, was lifted.  I could feel that, too.  My mind became acutely aware of Jesus.  My heart, recognizing Him, said something like "Oh!  Hi!  Jesus!"  This was quickly followed by the thought, "Wait a minute!  You died almost 2000 years ago!  It can't be!  Oh my God!  Raised from the dead?!  WHOA!!!"

No wonder I still remember the date.  God really blew me away.  So powerful, so gentle, so loving, so personal.  Revelation!  He was not messing around with me at all.  I was forever His, and He was forever mine.  How could I ever walk away from that?

Faith becomes religion, then religion becomes confusion.  A new life had begun, a new song would be sung.  But it would take two decades before I would learn how to walk in the Light.

Chapter 6, coming soon to The Eye of the Storm...


The Journey Continues...

...

The Little Pile of Rocks...

I need to take a moment to built an (electronic) altar to the Lord to celebrate His Love, His goodness, His Grace & Mercy, and His Power...


Praise the Lord, who loved me even though I was dead in sin, and died for me that I might live through Him...

Praise the Lord, who waited patiently for me as I stumbled and fumbled my way through life for 25 years before I would be willing and able to surrender to His perfect will...

Praise the Lord, who sustained me and my family through unemployment and economic crisis.  As He sustained me, He taught me to trust Him with all my heart.  My life, and my life in Him, will never be the same...

Praise the Lord, who opened the door to the perfect job for me, in a drug treatment center that glorifies Him.  I can earn a living doing what I learned to do in college (drug counselor), and also plant seeds of faith and speak the Gospel into the hungry hearts of addicts and alcoholics in search of freedom from addiction and sin.  Only Jesus could pull off a stroke of perfection like that with such ease...

Praise the Lord who has taken me, a poor sinner/addict, and made me rich in many things: love, faith, wisdom, many dear friends, and even some material wealth like family, home, cars, and fancy drums...

Praise the Lord, who promised "life abundantly", then followed through on that promise.  The rich texture of my life today is beyond description...

Praise the Lord, who causes me to mount up with wings as eagles, who set me on a high place, who calls me a friend, who loves me even when I err, who opened the door to a life of adventure that is for all eternity...

Thank You, Jesus!


The Journey Continues...

...

With a Song in My Heart - Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

A sickened mind and spirit
The mirror tells me lies
Could I mistake myself for someone
Who lives behind my eyes?
Ozzy Osborne, Diary Of A Madman

If I had only known then what I know now...

My Dad made me an offer that any sane man would gladly accept: "If you stop doing drugs and alcohol, you can live at home, and I will put you through college". But I was not sane, and I would never stop my partying ways. The recent revelations about a larger life would not slow the addiction train. Young and foolish, I moved out two days after I graduated High School in June of 1981. Surprisingly, my final GPA was 3.4 (B+), not bad given the amount of drugs I did during my travels through three high schools. I might not have an ounce of common sense, but I can do Math and English easy. Anyway, big grown up that I was, I moved out on my own. To my Mommies' house...

Life at Mom's was pretty laid back. She was what I now understand to be an 'enabler'. My pot smoking didn't alarm her like it did my Dad; she even smoked with me a few times. The Rock N Roll sure kept rollin'. That year I saw Styx, Rush, Van Halen and The Rolling Stones in concert. I crammed my drums into my room at Mom's house and continued practicing, still dreaming of stardom. I recall auditioning for at least one band, but I wasn't a good enough drummer, not for them anyway. For a guy who desperately wanted to be a famous drummer, I sure didn't try very hard.

I got a job, and worked for a few months. When I lost that job, I collected unemployment. I think somewhere in here I gave up on myself. I rarely went out, I had no life, and very few friends. I was quite stuck. I just sat around quietly doing my drugs. It should also be noted that I collected twice as much unemployment as Mom knew about. So half of the money I gave to Mom, while the other half secretly paid for my drugs and alcohol. It was inevitable that my life was about to take some new twists.

Early 1982, Mom discovered my money and drugs secret. The wheels of intervention started to spin when she told Dad & Vicky about my problems. They all confronted me about my troubles in a family meeting. They were thoughtful and loving as they pointed out my obvious problems. For the last five years, I had gotten drunk every chance I could, and regularly smoked pot, snorted cocaine, eaten LSD and mushrooms, and taken every pill I could get my hands on (up or down). The strange thing was that up until that moment, I never viewed my drug & alcohol use as a "problem". Drinking and drugs were as natural as eating or sleeping. As the family meeting concluded, I conceded that I had a problem and agreed to enter a drug treatment center.

Three significant things happened at my very first treatment center: 1. I was introduced to Jesus, 2. I was introduced to the 12 step program, and 3. I met the woman to whom I would lose my virginity. Hell of a first attempt at treatment. Looking back, I am impressed with how much I experienced in a short span of time. Quite a lot for a kid to go through. I was only 18 when I checked in for treatment.  I celebrated my 19th birthday while I was there...

The treatment center was more or less a very plush hospital. There were doctors, nurses and even drugs (sedatives) to aid in the withdrawal process. There were lectures on a variety of topics ranging from health to psychology and addiction. There was also a swimming pool, a jacuzzi, ping pong tables and a basketball hoop. If it weren't for the addiction problem, it could have been a nice vacation spot. It was at this place that I attended my very first AA Meeting. It was a night that I will never forget.


My name is Ron, and I am an alcoholic...

I had long hair, like I do now. I was 18, wearing bell bottoms and my Pink Floyd jersey. I listened to the speaker, and I watched as lots of people celebrated days, months and years of sobriety. When they opened the floor for other speakers, I summoned the courage to say a few words. I took the podium in front of about 200 people. I said very few words, something like, "I have been an alcoholic and an addict for 5 years, yet I am still not old enough to even buy alcohol. I've been watching all of you smiling, happy, celebrating your sobriety. I want what you have...", and that was it. For a moment, the room sat in shocked silence. As I started to walk back to my seat, silence gave way to thunderous applause and cheers. My sobriety would not last more than a few months, but the knowledge that I had an addiction problem would never ever leave me, no matter how hard I tried to forget. This would not be my first AA Meeting, nor my first treatment center.

As my education in addiction continued, something else happened that would forever influence my life: God planted another seed of faith. If you consider the first steps I took in high school and connect the dots, what happened during my time in treatment put a specific 'Name' to the possibility of faith. In the nightstand next to my bed, I found "A Letter From A Friend". You may have heard of it. This text may have some minor variations, but I discovered that it has endured through the years. I first read it in April of 1982. I copied it from the internet to post here in this blog March 2010.

I can still picture the room I lived in during my stay at the treatment center. As I read the 'Letter' in my lonely room, I remember thinking about the prom night 10 months before, when my friend spoke of his 'faith'...

A Letter From A Friend

I just had to write to tell you how much I love you and care for you. Yesterday, I saw you walking and laughing with your friends; I hoped that soon you'd want Me to walk along with you, too. So, I painted you a sunset to close your day and whispered a cool breeze to refresh you. I waited - you never called - I just kept on loving you.

As I watched you fall asleep last night, I wanted so much to touch you. I spilled moonlight onto your face - trickling down your cheeks as so many tears have. You didn't even think of Me; I wanted so much to comfort you.

The next day I exploded a brilliant sunrise into glorious morning for you. But you woke up late and rushed off to work - you didn't even notice. My sky became cloudy and My tears were the rain.

I love you. Oh, if you'd only listen. I really love you. I try to say it in the quiet of the green meadow and in the blue sky. The wind whispers My love throughout the treetops and spills it into the vibrant colors of all the flowers. I shout it to you in the thunder of the great waterfalls and compose love songs for birds to sing for you. I warm you with the clothing of My sunshine and perfume the air with nature's sweet scent. My love for you is deeper than any ocean and greater than any need in your heart. If you'd only realize how I care.

My Dad sends His love. I want you to meet Him - He cares, too. Fathers are just that way. So, please call on Me soon. No matter how long it takes, I'll wait - because I love you.

Your Friend,

Jesus


When I read His Name, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. I had heard about Jesus, I knew He was the guy they talked about at churches. I was impressed that His letter had reached me. I didn't quite figure out the God = Jesus connection (it is not an intellectual equation), but the 'Letter' was a comfort nonetheless. It surely left its mark, though. Another seed was planted deep in my heart, making such an impact that I would write about it almost 30 years later.

I was still a ways off from 'salvation', and a lot further away from 'life more abundantly'. It would take another 15 years before I would find lasting sobriety, and it would take a quarter of a century before I would dare to trust Him enough to "mount up with wings as eagles..." 


As my music continued to fade away, my youthful adventures in sin and stupidity were far from over. Thankfully, Jesus was not done with me, either...

Chapter 5, coming soon to The Eye of the Storm... 


The Journey Continues...

...

With a Song in My Heart - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way...

Pink Floyd, Time  

I suppose if my life through the years was normal (whatever that is), there wouldn't be anything interesting to write about. And if I had not gotten addicted to mood altering substances and not gotten kicked out of school, I might have cruised through school and into a life so ideal that there never would have been any need for God. But I made some incredibly stupid mistakes, and my life was far from ideal. Therefore it should not be surprising that as high school came to a close, I would stumble across my first seeds of faith. But I get ahead of myself.

High School...

I did not go to one high school, I went to three. Because of the trouble I had gotten into, my freshman and sophomore years were spent in an all boys catholic high school my parents sent me to. Talk about a crash and burn. My magical days of popularity were long gone, permanently. If there was anything remarkable about my experiences at St. Francis High, it was the utter lack of the life changing message of the Gospel. One would think that Franciscan monks would radiate the love of God, and Christ. What I remember most was getting hit with the ropes hanging off the brown robes they wore, one of many punishments for my misdeeds. It is a shame really, a missed opportunity to save a lost young man. After two years there, I begged my parents to let me go back to a public school. My parents thankfully relented, and I headed down the road to La Canada High. Both my junior and senior years might have been spent at that school. But alas, at the start of my senior year I was arrested for drugs, and then expelled from school for the second time. A drifter was born. I graduated from Glendale High in 1981.


Rockin' Ronnie: A Legend in his own Mind...

The turbulent years did nothing to change my love for drinks and drugs, nor dissuade me from my dream of rock and roll stardom. I practiced everyday, for a few hours a day. In my fantasy world I was convinced that I would be as rich and famous as my heroes. The fact that no one ever saw me play the drums was irrelevant to my belief that I would ascend to my very own level of greatness. Fame was my birthright, a reward for the great musician that I was sure that I would become.

During these years I would see some of the very greatest concerts of all time, by anyone's standards. Not only was I astounded by the sights and sounds of these shows, but my education as a drummer continued in the presence of the finest musicians in the world. At every show I usually learned how to play something new, and my skills grew daily through many hours of practice. My thoughts varied as I gazed upon my rock heroes. There was amazement, " Wow! I want to learn how to do that", or revelation, "Oh! So that is how he does that!", and sometimes arrogance, "I can play better than that drummer. How did he ever get to be famous? He sucks." It was infuriating to me that a drummer with below average skills was on stage, and I, Rockin' Ronnie, was not bathed in glory under the bright lights.

For the most part, I was in awe of these rock gods. Led Zeppelin is still one of my favorite bands, and John Bonham is still my favorite drummer. Progressive rock bands like Yes, Genesis and Rush elevated my drum skills to new heights. And the party gods, Van Halen, affirmed my commitment to a lifestyle featuring drugs and alcohol. I went to several rock concerts every year, sometimes with friends, but usually with Mom. I went through the motions of school and homework, but most of my energy was spent in pursuit of the next drink, the next drug, the next party. In spite of my addictions and the encroaching realities of life, my dreams and my fantasies remained fixed upon being a world famous drummer.


Beyond the surface...

As some of you know, hallucinogens can be quite amazing. Yeah, you're busted; I know I am not the only one. The effect caused by these powerful drugs is impossible to describe. To be overly simplistic, everyday ordinary things appear new, shiny, amazing. But before the end of high school, I would accidentally discover the the other side of hallucinogens, the expanding mind.

The first mind expanding experience was at a small party with my closest friends. We had eaten some LSD and were just sitting around drinking and smoking, another typical evening during my senior year. I cannot tell you what was said that night, if anything. What I remember most from that night was that at some point, I suddenly saw in my mind's eye "the kingdoms of the world", leaders, governments, powers, wars, vast civilizations, planet earth, all of it. For 18 years, the only "world" I was aware of was my home, my neighborhood, my school, my music, and my fantasies. The sudden awareness of the whole world, in its entirety, was a shock of epic proportions to my young mind. The next experience would go one step further.

Prom Night, 1981. Of course, Rockin' Ronnie was in reality Ron the Loser, the kid who had no prom date. My evening was instead spent with a friend, and a bag of mushrooms. I found myself once again in the middle of another mind expanding experience, but this time it would be my heart that would be moved. I cannot tell you how the subject came up, but for some reason my friend started talking about God. If there was anything kind of cool about this part of the story, it was that my friend was not talking about 'religion', he was just talking about 'God'. Now, it was my contention that there was no God because I had never seen God. I will never forget my friend trying to describe the meaning of faith, that it was not based on what we see. He said in closing, "It is something that you just reach out and take", and plucked something invisible out of the air. With the motion of grasping the invisible with his hand, I actually understood what he was saying! And with that, for the very first time I realized (or was at least willing to consider) that maybe there is something more to this life, something that cannot be seen. At that very moment, I knew I would never be the same.

For all of the things that happened in high school, I find it remarkable that the experiences that stand out most are my new found awareness of a larger world, and my earliest step towards faith. Today I still listen to the music from those crazy teenage years, but the idols of my youth are of little importance to me now. What is important to me today is living my life as the man God created me to be. I am still amazed that my steps into a life of faith were not taken in a church, but were steps taken as I traveled on my own 'road to Damascus' during the hazy drug filled days of high school. Is this surprising? Jesus did some of His best teachings at parties, and apparently He was just getting started with me...

Oh sure, some folks might say my visions were only drug induced delusions. Others might say I was in a perfect moment of readiness, ripe for seeds of faith. Whatever your opinion, my goal here is only to document the experiences that led me to my life of playing music for Christ. Suffice it to say that I am very grateful for those early experiences.

If it wasn't for a 'step one', it would not be possible to take a 'step two'. As I took step two, how I got to step one was irrelevant. All that mattered was the next step, and my next step would be coming soon...


Dreams turned into nightmares, and my music began to fade away. But even as I crashed and burned, my heart would be given an opportunity to sing a new song...


Chapter 4, coming soon to The Eye of the Storm...


The Journey Continues...

...

With a Song in My Heart - Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Crazy ways are evident
In the way that you're wearing your clothes
Sippin' booze is precedent

As the evening starts to glow

Led Zeppelin, Dancin' Days

The Summer of 1976...

Southern California really is gorgeous, a great place to spend a vacation.  And what a great summer vacation I would have.  First thing every morning I would get up and put Dancin' Days on my stereo, and I would rock out as I looked ahead to another fun summer day.  It was a season of exploration filled with dirt bikes, Playboy magazines, custom built skateboards, skinned knees, rock and roll, and the fullness of the teenage experience.  It was also a summer of change.

My hair grew longer.  Slightly ragged bell-bottom blue jeans and rock t-shirts replaced the 'geek' attire I used to wear.  I would never play the clarinet again, ever.  I didn't know what would happen with my band class, and I had no idea how I would ever play the drums.  The summer days and nights were all that mattered, and I emerged from this summer with a new rock and roll image.

There was something else that came out of 1976.  I had my first cigarettes, my first drinks, and my first drugs.  In each case, they would be the first of many, way too many.  By the end of the year, I was an alcoholic, a drug addict, and a smoker.  My first year as a teenager, an age of magic and wonder, would also be remembered as the beginning of the destruction of every part of my life, including my music.


8th Grade...

My first class was the Marching Band.  A great way to start the year, except that I could not play any musical instruments.  The wheels of bureaucracy started spinning to transfer me out of the class, but it would take a week or two before I would actually stop going to Band class.  But music was not the most important thing on my mind to start the year, nor was getting A's in class.  My top priority was popularity.  I was happy to find that my efforts to craft a new image had paid off.

Yes, I had become a member of the 'cool kids' club.  I was not the clarinet playing 'A' student that got picked on, not anymore.  I was considered to be 'cool', mostly because I radiated rock and roll from every fiber of my being, from clothes, to posture, to manner of speech.  I got to hang out with the very kids that were out of my league a year earlier.  As if that wasn't enough, my life at school was about to get even better.


A huge gift was bestowed on a little kid, and Rockin' Ronnie was born...

One or two days before my transfer out of Band, one of the drummers was absent from class.  Without a word, I sat behind the big marching bass drum, and read the music.  As the band played, I thumped along in perfect time.  The teacher was so impressed, my transfer out of Band class was canceled.  Just like that, I was officially a drummer!  Yes!  Life was quickly becoming too good to be true.

Popularity at school was not foremost in my mind when I played drums, I simply loved playing.  Much of my free time was devoted to practicing.  I stayed after school, grabbed all the drums I could find, and built a make shift drum set to practice the timing of my hands and feet.  I was invited to play in the school Stage Band after only a few months of practice.  As my skills grew, my popularity at school soared.  Friends dubbed me "Rockin' Ronnie" because of my expressive style of play.  My popularity on drums would also win the heart of my very first girlfriend, one of the really popular pretty girls.  Brenda.  I will never forget that first kiss...

I was in teenage 'heaven'.  Life could not have been any better that year.  Jamming on the drums on my way to fame and fortune, the magic of teenage infatuation with a real live girlfriend, and partying with the cool kids.  Do you recall a moment in your childhood when everything felt perfect?  Yeah, for me, 8th grade felt like it would last forever.  And my 'life at the top' might have gone on for years...

But...

As I mentioned, alcohol and drugs were now an addiction, not a casual hobby.  Sadly enough they had become more important than my music.  Alcohol and drugs were also part of my image.  It was the 'rock and roll' thing to do, just like my heroes.  The penalty for my chosen lifestyle would be swift.  My 'life in heaven' quickly turned into 'life in hell'.  It only took a single day.

Only two weeks remained in the school year.  Too many drugs before school on that tragic day led to a brief trip to the hospital.  Those drugs also got me kicked out of school.  It was that simple, and that fast.  No more popularity.  No more Stage Band.  No more girlfriend.  I lost everything that I loved in the blink of an eye.  Alcohol and drugs ripped my life apart, but sadly I did absolutely nothing to prevent it from happening again. 

After that school year, I still practiced my drums seven days a week.  Amazingly, though, I would not play in public more than a dozen times over the next ten years.  As much as I dreamed of being a rock star, I spent more time chasing drugs and alcohol than chasing my dream of playing drums.  In the years to come my life would be more like 'a tragic ending waiting to happen', instead of 'a dream come true'...


The descent into madness would continue for many years.  But before I graduated High School, I would see for the first time a glimpse of life beyond the material world... 


Chapter 3, coming soon to The Eye of The Storm...



In closing, I need to take a minute to thank my parents: 

-  To my Dad (Richard) and my Step-Mom (Vicky), there are not enough words to thank them.  They lived with me through the early years of my addictions, and they did all they could to help me.  They tolerated my incessant tapping at the dinner table, and Dad bought me my very first drum set.  For 5 years they put up with me banging away on those drums.  They could not even watch TV because of the racket thundering from my bedroom.  I was too young and foolish to appreciate their love back then.  Their love and support through  good times and bad means more to me now than ever before.  I hope that one day they will see that my gift of music, the music they encouraged and made possible, is being used to bless people who need it most...

-  To my mom (Jackie), who passed away in 2003.  I am sure she knows how much I appreciate all she did for me, and my music.  My love for music and my 'education' at the big rock shows are due in large part to Mom.  The drum set I play on now was purchased with the money she left for me when she died.  She would have loved to see what I am doing now.  She will no doubt see me again when I join the Heavenly Host...


The Journey Continues...

...

With a Song in My Heart - Chapter 1

INTRODUCTION

God gave the heart a voice to sound its joy, and He called it Music...

I read that saying on a little plaque while getting my car repaired.  At that very moment, I knew the topic for my next blog post.  Well, I have known for the last week that I was going to write about music, but the plaque confirmed my thoughts.  Before the day was out, the typing would begin, and I would begin to relive a lifetime of memories.

So, this will be the story about what drives me to rock out for Jesus the way I do.  I am going to write about my life through the lens of music, and my music through the lens of life.  I hope to stay on track, focus mostly on the music.  But several important life changing events occurred that are directly or indirectly related to music.  Some of the events changed my music, and some of the music changed my life.  These events will stretch the tale beyond my initial idea for a blog post, but they will also paint a much clearer picture of Ron the Drummer. 

Maybe I should just write a book...

As I type, it appears as though this blog will also be a tool to bare my soul to God, to myself, and to the reader.  I pray that Jesus will shine His light into any remaining darkness in me, and heal me in the places where I need it most.  I thank God for the mighty work he has done, and continues to do, in my life.

I am going to break these blog posts up into several parts.  I do this so that you, my gentle reader, are not overwhelmed with a long rambling story.  There are several distinctive chapters to this musical tale...

CHAPTER 1

I look to the sea 

Reflections in the waves spark my memory
Some happy, some sad
I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had 

Styx, Come Sail Away

It starts with a dream... 

I could not have been more then 5 years old.  When I woke up, I did not understand the dream or what I saw in it, but I would surely know in the years that followed. In this dream, I was on a stage, bright lights shone in my eyes, and in the darkness that stretched beyond the glare of the lights was a huge audience. It was scary and exciting all at the same time.

My mom was a big music fan.  I grew up listening to music all the time.  The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and Creedence Clearwater Revival are among my earliest musical memories.  Led Zeppelin released their first two albums when I was about 6 years old.  It was great jammin' out with mom.  She loved music, and I did, too.

Mom took me to my very first concert when I was only eight years old: Creedence Clearwater Revival!  We sat in seats behind the stage, looking down on the band.  We could see the musicians, and what they could see.  Not only was this show the thrill of my short lifetime, but the scene reminded me of the dream I had a few years earlier.  I will never forget that night.  It was also the first of many big arena rock concerts that I would enjoy.

These concerts played a huge role in my music education, but also contributed to my distorted view of reality.  I saw my first concerts before I played drums, so I suppose we could say that it was these big rock and roll shows that inspired me to play the way that I do.  I marveled at the sight of watching the drummer's hands fall from the sky to crash on the cymbals, while feeling the concussion of the drums beating on my chest.  I had to learn how to play drums.  It was at these many concerts that I learned how to play, and I got to learn from the greatest drum teachers in the world.

Rather than type all of the bands I have seen here, I offer this link to my Thunder, Inc. website where I have already created the list:  http://www.thunder-inc.com/concerts.html.  If you are a classic rock fan, you won't believe the number of super-groups I have seen.  The "larger than life" impression they left on my youthful imagination was a blessing to my drum skills, but also a curse to my life...

*Note: Thunder, Inc. is an important part of the later chapters of my tale, so stay tuned...


At age 12, I almost got my first chance to play drums.  I joined the Junior High Beginner Band, where I hoped to start my career as a drummer.  The selection of instruments was more or less a foot race, a race that I lost.  My first year of playing music found me at the other end of a Clarinet!  Yeah, go figure.  I learned fast, and got really good; I was a natural at music.  I was so good that the teacher promoted me out of the Beginner Band and into the Junior Band only halfway through the school year (instead of the next year).

I suppose I had fun for a while, but as a skinny little Clarinet player who got straight A's in school, I was the target of a lot of teasing, and few bullies.  The cool rock and roll drummer I was on the inside was not what was seen on the outside, much to my dismay.  By the time I reached my 13th birthday, I had gone from happy go lucky rich kid, to a brooding teenager with very low self esteem.  The bright lights and glory that I dreamed of were in stark contrast to the world of sadness and frustration that I lived in.

It should be noted here that life was only "material" to me.  Being an only child contributed to my selfishness and my naivety.  My mom was agnostic, and my dad and step-mom didn't go to church either, so I guess you could say I had no God to love me, none that I knew of at the time.  My parents loved me dearly, and I loved them.  But nothing could change the fact that deep inside my heart I was completely lost.

Sex, fame, and fortune were "heaven" to me.  That was all I knew.  I saw it at my beloved rock concerts and on the TV, so it had to be true.  Due to my distorted view of life, as the school year drew to a close, I would desperately begin a quest to change my image, to be as cool on the outside as I knew I was on the inside.

I'd show them all...

Yours truly then embarked on a journey into darkness that would last for over 20 years, a journey through darkness that would also lead me to The Light...


Chapter 2, coming soon to The Eye of the Storm...


The Journey Continues...

...

Waving the White Flag...

sur-ren-der

– verb (used with object)
1. to yield (something) to the possession or power of another; deliver up possession of on demand or under duress: to surrender the fort to the enemy; to surrender the stolen goods to the police.
2. to give (oneself) up, as to the police.
3. to give (oneself) up to some influence, course, emotion, etc.: He surrendered himself to a life of hardship.
4. to give up, abandon, or relinquish (comfort, hope, etc.).
5. to yield or resign (an office, privilege, etc.) in favor of another.

– verb (used without object)
6. to give oneself up, as into the power of another; submit or yield.



Forgive me as I talk to myself.  The simplest of concepts regarding God seem to be somewhat elusive to my tiny human brain.  As I seek to pursue the fullness of a life in Christ, some familiar terms come up.  Surrender is one of those terms.  I just wanted to take a look at it, understand it better.

Funny thing is that as much as I think I know or understand about something like surrender, the actual practice of the concept has been missed in my life.  Is it because I am stupid?  Maybe it is because I am stubborn?  Or am I just selfish, and sinful?  Looking back, I see that I have been prone to hold onto things of this world that bring me temporary comfort, yet perpetuate a life of escapism.  In and of themselves, I don't see any particular evil in most things I do.  But the addiction to things, or the use of things in excess, causes harm in many ways.  The worst harm that is caused, though, is a life that excludes the very God who created me.

I woke up this morning yearning for what God has for me, not wanting to simply please myself.  I really want to learn how to offer myself as a living sacrifice to God, who sacrificed Jesus for me.  I just want Jesus, I want to know Him, I want to Love Him.  I want to be what He made me to be, or rather, what He is making me to be.  I want me and my roadblocks out of The Way (pardon the pun) so that He can do for me what I have been unable to do for myself.

And whatever it is I hold on to that holds me back, I want to surrender.  Whatever I might count as loss is nothing compared to what I gain in Christ.


I don't know what is next.  But I do know that the Bible says if I "acknowledge Him in all my ways, He will direct my steps."


I acknowledge You, Jesus, as my King, my Lord, My God.  Show me Your Way...




The Journey Continues...

...

Two or more....

I have been a "believer" since 1983. I heard The Call, I have seen and experienced a few real life miracles, God has answered several specific prayers, and I have experienced the Power of the Holy Spirit first hand. Yet the whole experience with Jesus never really hit home until I found Him in others. Simply "believing" (on my own) was not enough. I drifted in and out of churches, and drifted in and out of my addictions.

"Believing" changed, from a mere thought to action, at a Retreat I attended in early 2009.  With my new found friends, Jesus rekindled the fire in my heart that for a time had grown dim. I innately knew that I could not keep the fire burning on my own, so I returned home to purposefully grow roots in my church and develop relationships. One year later, I am still going to the same church, and participating in several ministries there, all of which validates what I have learned about the power of fellowship. Of course, I still struggle with my human sins and imperfections, but I find it easier to pursue a Christ centered life with the friendship and support of others. Apparently, my new friends are struggling in their own way.  The shared struggle is easier than the lonely struggle.

To reinforce what I have learned about the power in numbers within the context of the Body of Christ, I wanted to jot down a few notes here...


MATTHEW 18:20
"For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them."

* Jesus is with us always, but it seems the emphasis is on us being together, too. He is with us, we are with each other, and [together] we are with Him. "Jesus with me [us]" sounds like a good thing.


LUKE 10:1
After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them two by two ahead of him to every town and place where he was about to go.

* Safety in numbers? Not all the gospels mention Jesus sending them out in pairs, but Luke mentioned it. I like the idea of accountability, and I now recognize the need for support. It is tough doing anything of significance in this life when doing it all alone. I certainly haven't been able to accomplish much on my own...


ACTS 2:42-47
They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.

* I get to see some of you once a week. If I could get the small group off the ground, maybe I'd see you twice a week. What would it be like if our lives were intertwined with each other everyday?


JAMES 5:16
Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.

* I realized how powerful this passage was when I dared to share one of my "secrets" with trusted friends. I was tired of asking God for forgiveness for the same things over and over again. Two things occurred when I opened up to my friends: 1. I discovered I was not alone, because they had experienced the same problem, and 2. healing took place. My problems [sins] didn't completely go away by magic, but shining some light on the issues that normally reside in the dark certainly curtailed some of the behaviors. It appears that Jesus gave us more than I realized. He gave us the power to heal each other...


There is more, but rather than ramble endlessly, I'll stop and chew on these ideas for a while. Going forward, I hope to find myself in fellowship with the members of the Body of Christ more frequently. I see Jesus in them [you], and that is what I truly want to see more of.


Parting thoughts:

• How often do you fellowship specifically with other Christians?
• If you fellowship only on Sundays, do you have any free time in between Sundays for more fellowship?
• What would our life look like if we lived like they did in the 2nd Chapter of Acts?

The Journey continues...