Clay's Testimony - What happened in my life
If I mention your denomination here, please do not be offended. I believe everybody is a part of the body of Christ. If everybody needed what was offered by one church, there would not be so many options. Every part serves a purpose. Some are soul-winning. Some are 'graduate school'. Some are service-oriented. Some are everything. Some are nothing. It's up to you to follow the Spirit where He wants you to be.
I was raised in the Methodist Church and baptized at a couple of weeks old. I kinda got the impression there that God's grace prevailed over all, so we had license to sin. I don't know if that's Methodist doctrine, but that's what I came to believe. No, I'd not read Romans at that time. I believed all I needed to know about the Bible came from the preacher.
By the time I was in high school, I was very active in Dungeons & Dragons. It started leading me away from my struggling faith. Though I claimed to be a Christian (after all, I was raised and baptized in the church), I had no idea that the Holy Spirit was real or that it would actually take up residence in you. I talked the talk, but had no idea how to walk the walk.
My high school sweetheart was a dedicated Baptist. I attended church mostly just to be with her. I really didn't like what the preacher had to say, it sounded like he was just talking to me with his hellfire and brimstone speeches. Hey, I'm not here for that. I want to hear more cool Bible stories like about the flood and parting the Red Sea.
Well, it did something for me. It showed me that I didn't like the Baptists. I said "The Methodists tell you, 'If you're good, you'll go to Heaven.' The Baptists say, 'If you're bad you'll go to hell'". I really had no idea what it was all about.
The summer between my junior and senior year of high school, I discovered alcohol. Being drunk was a real pleasure! So were topless joints! Nothing like getting drunk and being surrounded by wild women! Toss in some heavy metal and you've got it all! Wine, women and song! I believed I was truly happy.
My sweetheart was still seeing me. She and I never went any further than smooching. Nothing really physical. So I made up for that when her best friend came on to me. She thought she could change me. Fool! She broke up with me several times, but always came back. I never had to chase her, she always came back to me. Eventually, we became engaged. I knew I could not support a family on my meager salary as a pizza delivery driver, so I joined the Navy. Then I talked to her about it. She was not happy, but didn't have much of a choice.
Time came for boot camp. We spent about a week together, and I left. I wrote letter after letter. Sometimes two a day. She responded to most of them. I attended Chapel every Sunday morning during boot camp because I couldn't handle boot camp. Something about Chapel helped me make it through, but I really didn't know what it was. I played bass in the Chapel's praise band.
When I went to A school, I stayed drunk. They didn't say much about it. Passed a physical fitness test while incredibly hungover! Booze didn't hurt me! Then I reported to the USS Nimitz. Got busted there for making fake IDs and spent 63 days in the brig (that's the Navy version of jail). It wasn't fun, but I worked hard and the time flew by. Got out and celebrated by getting drunk.
My next duty station was the USS Long Beach. We went 'round the world. Among other things I discovered were prostitutes. One day, after a particularly extreme evening of sin, I went to the ship's Catholic chaplain. I explained that I really needed to find a way to change my life. He explained that Jesus doesn't want people like me.
OK, I'm condemned anyway. I may as well make the best of it. I became an animal. Nothing mattered. Heavy metal music was my life. Nearly everything they discussed (except hard drugs) was present. I wanted to learn witchcraft but couldn't find anything serious about it. I wanted to find drugs, but was too much of a geek to know anybody who would help me. I wanted to die, but didn't have the guts to do it myself.
I also discovered during this time that I was beginning to have a serious anger management issue. I went to the ship's doctor several times a month with bruised or bloody fingers from hitting walls or filing cabinets. I was counseled several times for 'speaking my opinion' to superiors. At the end of my four years, I was honorably discharged with an agreement that I would not seek re-enlistment.
I did continue going to my Mom & Dad's church. I sang in the choir every Sunday with a severe hangover from Saturday night. I'm in church, I'm doing the right thing, right? I was going to junior college and met a lady in a history class who was beautiful, witty and just wonderful to be around. Her laughter was infectious. She was dating someone else.
Well, I thought I hit rock bottom around the age of 28. Having gotten back together with my high school sweetheart, we had broken up again. This time it was for good. This time I'm the one that ended it. She said, "It's either booze or me." I chose the booze and it was my haven as I tried to get over her.
That year, I started back to college. I'd somehow amassed enough hours to get into the upper level University in Corpus Christi. I began attending full time and met again, this wonderful witty woman who was, still, dating someone else. She didn't brush me off, though, and we began to study together and spend a great deal of time together.
She was running for Student Body Vice-President, so I dropped my name in the hat for "Senator" from the College of Science and Technology. She and I were both elected. I got to spend a lot of time with her without looking like I was spending time with her. We did become very good friends. Good enough friends that she told me she didn't like my drinking. It didn't stop her, though. I did ask her if she would break up with her boyfriend so we could date. I was really looking for something more than a date, though, and she knew it. She said she wouldn't even consider dating me as much as I drank.
On my twenty-ninth birthday (Oct. 7, 1994), I set out to celebrate the milestone by getting completely [poop]-faced. I couldn't do it. The beer just didn't taste good. No alcohol did. So, I went home sober for the first Friday night in three years. During the next week, I had a beer or two every night. No problem. I set out to get drunk again on Friday. Same problem -- the beer just didn't taste good. I thought it would come right back up! Well, by Thanksgiving, I found that I could no longer intentionally get drunk. Two weeks later, she broke up with her boyfriend. Two weeks after that we started dating.
January, 1995, she invited me to attend her church. She was having serious faith issues at the time, but still hung on to the church for balance. I went, and found serious Bible Teaching. The Church of Christ claimed not to have a doctrine, and I believed that everything they taught came right out of the Bible. I began to learn about things I'd never heard about -- like commandments. Later that month, I was baptized into the death, burial and resurrection of Christ.
It just didn't take properly, though. I tried to keep going to church, but nothing really sat with me. After I'd quit drinking, my rage returned with a vengeance. I was no longer satisfied with just hitting walls that wouldn't break, now I had to break something. I spent most every dime I made repairing computer equipment, windows, plaster walls, etc. Still, I graduated in December, 1995 with a Bachelor of Science in Computer Science.
The next couple of years saw me moving around Texas. I still couldn't get settled in church. That lady I'd started dating and I were meeting every weekend as she worked on her Master's. We met either in Corpus Christi or in whatever town I lived. We were sexually active, but monogamous. She graduated and got a job in Houston. I followed her.
We set a wedding date for March, 1999. Six months later, she was pregnant. So, we moved the wedding date up to October 4. On October 3, we found out our baby was going to be a girl. We announced it at our wedding. Our oldest was born in February, 1999 -- a week after her mother's birthday.
We knew we needed help in this life, and my temper was out of control. In November, 1999, I was nearly arrested for parking my car in the middle of the street and charging a cop. I think it was the grace of God that kept me out of jail. He suggested I get serious help for my anger problem, and I took him seriously. That was one of the biggest steps I ever took. It literally changed my life.
I began seeing a secular psychologist. She was very good, although agnostic. She tolerated her patients' religious beliefs for the sake of her practice, but that was about it. She did, however, teach me how to start handling my rage. In October, 2000, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and began a regimen of medications that included various anti-depressants, lithium, depakote and zyprexa (for hallucinations - yes I finally got the effects of the drugs I'd been seeking!).
Things were finally good. Later in October, my wife and I took a trip to the Texas Hill Country (daughter was with Mamaw) where we had our first real discussion. I did not get angry the entire weekend! It was a first! The medications were doing their trick! We also figured out that weekend that our lives were going seriously wrong and swore we would find a church.
We began searching in earnest and finally found a Church of Christ that shouldn't be called a Church of Christ. We became members in July, 2001. Something finally stuck in my heart. It was a feeling I'd never felt before in church. It was a feeling that I really needed to do something with my life instead of just going through the motions. It was a feeling of grace. It was a feeling that the Chaplain on the Long Beach was wrong. In January, 2002, I dedicated my life to the Lord.
I told Him to make me into what He wants me to be. Tear me down and build me back up in His image. Crucify this old man and make a new creation. Though it needed to be done, I didn't realize how painful it would be.
He did begin with a wrecking ball. I was laid off from my job in May, 2002. My job search has been totally fruitless. A second child came along in July, 2003. I had to give up my job search and become a stay-at-home dad - at first against my wishes, now I kinda like it.
In the summer of 2003, I also suffered kidney stones. There was lithium in the stones. I worked with my doctor and other mental health professionals in my church to come off the medications. I prayed incessantly for God's intervention in that aspect of my life. He told me He would not take it away, but through close two-way communion with Him, He would hold it at bay. That makes me wonder if my rage issues aren't supernatural in origin. But that's a topic for another day.
I still have issues, like this past Wednesday (11/30). When it does come back it seems to be worse every time. But the incidents are fewer and farther between. Before this week, the last time I 'lost it' was July, 2004. Kinda like a dam holding back water. It can hold a lot of water, but if the dam fails you have a raging torrent. Same with my anger.
I am open to discussion about anything you may find in here that's interesting. I feel that, with my background, I can minister to just about anybody that's down and out. I've been there. I've tried to kill myself. I've been drunk for three straight years. I've been a whoremonger. I'm still suffering from mental health issues. And God's gotten me through it all. Are there any more problems?
I have begun a ministry on my website that details my thoughts on life and grace. There is no life without grace. Nothing we can do can be what God wants it to be, so He gives us a break. I haven't added much to it lately, but that's 'cuz I'm working on my book: "Life Reconstructed".
It's been a pleasure to share this with you.
I was raised in the Methodist Church and baptized at a couple of weeks old. I kinda got the impression there that God's grace prevailed over all, so we had license to sin. I don't know if that's Methodist doctrine, but that's what I came to believe. No, I'd not read Romans at that time. I believed all I needed to know about the Bible came from the preacher.
By the time I was in high school, I was very active in Dungeons & Dragons. It started leading me away from my struggling faith. Though I claimed to be a Christian (after all, I was raised and baptized in the church), I had no idea that the Holy Spirit was real or that it would actually take up residence in you. I talked the talk, but had no idea how to walk the walk.
My high school sweetheart was a dedicated Baptist. I attended church mostly just to be with her. I really didn't like what the preacher had to say, it sounded like he was just talking to me with his hellfire and brimstone speeches. Hey, I'm not here for that. I want to hear more cool Bible stories like about the flood and parting the Red Sea.
Well, it did something for me. It showed me that I didn't like the Baptists. I said "The Methodists tell you, 'If you're good, you'll go to Heaven.' The Baptists say, 'If you're bad you'll go to hell'". I really had no idea what it was all about.
The summer between my junior and senior year of high school, I discovered alcohol. Being drunk was a real pleasure! So were topless joints! Nothing like getting drunk and being surrounded by wild women! Toss in some heavy metal and you've got it all! Wine, women and song! I believed I was truly happy.
My sweetheart was still seeing me. She and I never went any further than smooching. Nothing really physical. So I made up for that when her best friend came on to me. She thought she could change me. Fool! She broke up with me several times, but always came back. I never had to chase her, she always came back to me. Eventually, we became engaged. I knew I could not support a family on my meager salary as a pizza delivery driver, so I joined the Navy. Then I talked to her about it. She was not happy, but didn't have much of a choice.
Time came for boot camp. We spent about a week together, and I left. I wrote letter after letter. Sometimes two a day. She responded to most of them. I attended Chapel every Sunday morning during boot camp because I couldn't handle boot camp. Something about Chapel helped me make it through, but I really didn't know what it was. I played bass in the Chapel's praise band.
When I went to A school, I stayed drunk. They didn't say much about it. Passed a physical fitness test while incredibly hungover! Booze didn't hurt me! Then I reported to the USS Nimitz. Got busted there for making fake IDs and spent 63 days in the brig (that's the Navy version of jail). It wasn't fun, but I worked hard and the time flew by. Got out and celebrated by getting drunk.
My next duty station was the USS Long Beach. We went 'round the world. Among other things I discovered were prostitutes. One day, after a particularly extreme evening of sin, I went to the ship's Catholic chaplain. I explained that I really needed to find a way to change my life. He explained that Jesus doesn't want people like me.
OK, I'm condemned anyway. I may as well make the best of it. I became an animal. Nothing mattered. Heavy metal music was my life. Nearly everything they discussed (except hard drugs) was present. I wanted to learn witchcraft but couldn't find anything serious about it. I wanted to find drugs, but was too much of a geek to know anybody who would help me. I wanted to die, but didn't have the guts to do it myself.
I also discovered during this time that I was beginning to have a serious anger management issue. I went to the ship's doctor several times a month with bruised or bloody fingers from hitting walls or filing cabinets. I was counseled several times for 'speaking my opinion' to superiors. At the end of my four years, I was honorably discharged with an agreement that I would not seek re-enlistment.
I did continue going to my Mom & Dad's church. I sang in the choir every Sunday with a severe hangover from Saturday night. I'm in church, I'm doing the right thing, right? I was going to junior college and met a lady in a history class who was beautiful, witty and just wonderful to be around. Her laughter was infectious. She was dating someone else.
Well, I thought I hit rock bottom around the age of 28. Having gotten back together with my high school sweetheart, we had broken up again. This time it was for good. This time I'm the one that ended it. She said, "It's either booze or me." I chose the booze and it was my haven as I tried to get over her.
That year, I started back to college. I'd somehow amassed enough hours to get into the upper level University in Corpus Christi. I began attending full time and met again, this wonderful witty woman who was, still, dating someone else. She didn't brush me off, though, and we began to study together and spend a great deal of time together.
She was running for Student Body Vice-President, so I dropped my name in the hat for "Senator" from the College of Science and Technology. She and I were both elected. I got to spend a lot of time with her without looking like I was spending time with her. We did become very good friends. Good enough friends that she told me she didn't like my drinking. It didn't stop her, though. I did ask her if she would break up with her boyfriend so we could date. I was really looking for something more than a date, though, and she knew it. She said she wouldn't even consider dating me as much as I drank.
On my twenty-ninth birthday (Oct. 7, 1994), I set out to celebrate the milestone by getting completely [poop]-faced. I couldn't do it. The beer just didn't taste good. No alcohol did. So, I went home sober for the first Friday night in three years. During the next week, I had a beer or two every night. No problem. I set out to get drunk again on Friday. Same problem -- the beer just didn't taste good. I thought it would come right back up! Well, by Thanksgiving, I found that I could no longer intentionally get drunk. Two weeks later, she broke up with her boyfriend. Two weeks after that we started dating.
January, 1995, she invited me to attend her church. She was having serious faith issues at the time, but still hung on to the church for balance. I went, and found serious Bible Teaching. The Church of Christ claimed not to have a doctrine, and I believed that everything they taught came right out of the Bible. I began to learn about things I'd never heard about -- like commandments. Later that month, I was baptized into the death, burial and resurrection of Christ.
It just didn't take properly, though. I tried to keep going to church, but nothing really sat with me. After I'd quit drinking, my rage returned with a vengeance. I was no longer satisfied with just hitting walls that wouldn't break, now I had to break something. I spent most every dime I made repairing computer equipment, windows, plaster walls, etc. Still, I graduated in December, 1995 with a Bachelor of Science in Computer Science.
The next couple of years saw me moving around Texas. I still couldn't get settled in church. That lady I'd started dating and I were meeting every weekend as she worked on her Master's. We met either in Corpus Christi or in whatever town I lived. We were sexually active, but monogamous. She graduated and got a job in Houston. I followed her.
We set a wedding date for March, 1999. Six months later, she was pregnant. So, we moved the wedding date up to October 4. On October 3, we found out our baby was going to be a girl. We announced it at our wedding. Our oldest was born in February, 1999 -- a week after her mother's birthday.
We knew we needed help in this life, and my temper was out of control. In November, 1999, I was nearly arrested for parking my car in the middle of the street and charging a cop. I think it was the grace of God that kept me out of jail. He suggested I get serious help for my anger problem, and I took him seriously. That was one of the biggest steps I ever took. It literally changed my life.
I began seeing a secular psychologist. She was very good, although agnostic. She tolerated her patients' religious beliefs for the sake of her practice, but that was about it. She did, however, teach me how to start handling my rage. In October, 2000, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and began a regimen of medications that included various anti-depressants, lithium, depakote and zyprexa (for hallucinations - yes I finally got the effects of the drugs I'd been seeking!).
Things were finally good. Later in October, my wife and I took a trip to the Texas Hill Country (daughter was with Mamaw) where we had our first real discussion. I did not get angry the entire weekend! It was a first! The medications were doing their trick! We also figured out that weekend that our lives were going seriously wrong and swore we would find a church.
We began searching in earnest and finally found a Church of Christ that shouldn't be called a Church of Christ. We became members in July, 2001. Something finally stuck in my heart. It was a feeling I'd never felt before in church. It was a feeling that I really needed to do something with my life instead of just going through the motions. It was a feeling of grace. It was a feeling that the Chaplain on the Long Beach was wrong. In January, 2002, I dedicated my life to the Lord.
I told Him to make me into what He wants me to be. Tear me down and build me back up in His image. Crucify this old man and make a new creation. Though it needed to be done, I didn't realize how painful it would be.
He did begin with a wrecking ball. I was laid off from my job in May, 2002. My job search has been totally fruitless. A second child came along in July, 2003. I had to give up my job search and become a stay-at-home dad - at first against my wishes, now I kinda like it.
In the summer of 2003, I also suffered kidney stones. There was lithium in the stones. I worked with my doctor and other mental health professionals in my church to come off the medications. I prayed incessantly for God's intervention in that aspect of my life. He told me He would not take it away, but through close two-way communion with Him, He would hold it at bay. That makes me wonder if my rage issues aren't supernatural in origin. But that's a topic for another day.
I still have issues, like this past Wednesday (11/30). When it does come back it seems to be worse every time. But the incidents are fewer and farther between. Before this week, the last time I 'lost it' was July, 2004. Kinda like a dam holding back water. It can hold a lot of water, but if the dam fails you have a raging torrent. Same with my anger.
I am open to discussion about anything you may find in here that's interesting. I feel that, with my background, I can minister to just about anybody that's down and out. I've been there. I've tried to kill myself. I've been drunk for three straight years. I've been a whoremonger. I'm still suffering from mental health issues. And God's gotten me through it all. Are there any more problems?
I have begun a ministry on my website that details my thoughts on life and grace. There is no life without grace. Nothing we can do can be what God wants it to be, so He gives us a break. I haven't added much to it lately, but that's 'cuz I'm working on my book: "Life Reconstructed".
It's been a pleasure to share this with you.
posted by ClayMan at 9:43 PM
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