BY the grace of God, I was in prison. I know that might sound crazy. If God had not allowed me to be in prison, I would probably be dead. I have been asked by Precious Testimonies to share how God has worked in my life for the purpose of glorifying Him. I count it a privilege and an honor to be able to do so.
I have brought great hurt to others for what I have done in the past. All I can do is hope that they forgive me, as God has forgiven me, and that they pray that God will use the rest of my life to tell others of the goodness of Jesus Christ.
There is a scripture from the Bible that I would like to first honor God with, before I start my story. You may or may not be familiar with it: “For I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” (Matthew 9:13).
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MY STORY BEGINS
“Give me the money!” I demanded, as I waved a gun in the face of the bank teller. “Everybody on the floor, now!"
It’s hard to believe I was the person robbing that bank. My cocaine addiction had driven me to this point of desperation. I look back at it now . . . and it seems like a distant nightmare. Yet at the time, it was my reality. I hope it never becomes yours. If you are “desperate” … I ask that you take the time to read my story. There is help for you as there was help for me. It was not in a “program”, but thank God for them. It was in a PERSON. That person is Jesus Christ. He died for me, that I wouldn’t have to be a slave to my addiction of sin. After all … cocaine was the physical drug that held me prisoner to it. But I was a prisoner to something much more lethal. I was a prisoner to SIN. Sin is abundantly available to one and all. Each of us, the Bible says, are born with it. (See: Romans 3:23). The ‘righteous’ disagree. ‘Sinners’ know it to be fact.
I was born January 14, 1969 in San Antonio, Texas. My parents were migrant workers. My three brothers and sister and I moved alot growing up. I had a loving mother but an alcoholic father who was very strict and abusive. He was an army man and used regimental discipline on us in the form of a wide studded belt in many cases. Being the oldest, I would generally receive the majority of the whippings. In fact, I regularly took beatings just so my brothers and sister could avoid them.
At the age of eight, I was beaten so badly the welts on my buttocks, back and legs remained for several weeks, which made sitting in school difficult. He would even beat my mother when she came to my aid, which hurt me even more. I would cry myself to sleep many nights feeling I was to blame for his anger and my mother's injuries. I was always trying my best to win his approval. I never succeeded. He taught my brother and me to box, and the training often took place after beatings. I never developed real friendships nor learned to trust others or how to respect myself. I found it better to have no feelings, and to be a loner. Using others before they used me became my motto.
I grew up feeling unwanted, unloved, and filled with anger. A lot of anger. When I was age thirteen my parents divorced. From the pain of the divorce and the bottled-up anger and frustration inside, I went to the streets. Soon I became involved in gangs, drugs, drinking, all-night parties, fighting and sex. I seemed to be accepted, especially by those who were older, including the women.
At the age of fifteen, I trained and became the youngest member of the Guardian Angels. It gave me a sense of belonging and self-respect for the first time in my life. It was good being on the right side of the streets and it felt good helping those I once preyed on. I was somebody, or so I told myself. However, the emptiness along with the anger remained my constant companions. When I was sixteen, I left the Guardian Angels and headed back to the street life.
I began drinking more and experimenting with harder drugs soon thereafter. I used speed and on one occasion used acid in micro-dot form. I started to use powdered cocaine which gave me an euphoric high. Cocaine fascinated me, and it provided a feeling I was not to forget. It made me feel confident, tough and important. Later that year, I spent time in juvenile homes, first for larceny, and then driving while intoxicated. I hated being locked up, especially at night. I was a night person and sensed despair as I paced my cell until the wee hours of morning. I missed my street life and the lady who had stolen my heart. The couple of months I spent in the homes did nothing to change my behavior. Once out, I would be right back into my street life.
I needed to do something to kill the boredom and emptiness that was always present. Even the drugs, alcohol and women were not satisfying as they had been before, so I turned to stealing. Then at the age of seventeen, I was convicted of felonious assault and sentenced to one year in the county jail. The time in jail was horrifying for me except for the hours an old man spent talking to me about his family and Jesus Christ. When the time was over and I was free, I forgot the nine months I had hated, and quickly returned to my street lifestyle. The streets of Kalamazoo, Michigan remained my home as anger and emptiness controlled my life.
As my teen years ended, I was a father of three sons. I always held a steady job in those early days and provided well for my family. But I had no roots or stability in my life. I was still part of the drinking and partying crowd and continued to be on the go because of boredom and restlessness.
I HAD TURNED INTO THE PERSON I HATED MOST IN MY LIFE
The birth of my fourth son started a change inside, but his death a few weeks later had a huge impact on me. The morning he died, I carried his tiny body outside and looking upward, I blamed God for taking his innocent life. I had a deep hate in my heart, and wanted nothing to do with God. He reminded me of my father. I told God that even if He was real, I would never believe in Him. I started drinking even more with terrifying results. I would always vent my anger and frustration on others with vicious behavior. I even started to beat my wife and oldest son. I had turned into the person I hated most in my life. I had become like my father! I was powerless to stop drinking. It took me to jail several times, and each time I would promise myself and my family it would never happen again. I truly wanted to change, but couldn’t.
In 1993, at the age of 24, I got a good paying job in Grand Rapids, Michigan. For the next ten months, I did not use alcohol or drugs, and felt good being a caring husband and father. I moved my family from a one bedroom apartment into a six room house, and even opened my own garage that I had always wanted. I was enjoying my role as provider and protector, and appreciated the love and happiness my family gave in return.
On the surface things seemed ideal, but inside I was empty and miserable. Something was missing and I did not understand what. I was drinking more but it was not easing the pain inside, and I needed something to fill the void. Then I remembered powdered cocaine from years before. I snorted it again. My troubles seemed to vanish as the pain inside disappeared and helped me escape the emptiness. Even with things going well for the family, I was unable to let go of the past as restlessness and anxiety continued. I had everything . . . yet my life was meaningless. There had to be more to life.
At the age of 26, I was living my double life completely. I had tried to fight the addiction of cocaine but could not find peace without it. My best friend had become cocaine! It would take away the emptiness and pain. I was missing more work but spending more money on cocaine and alcohol. I would spend days at a time absent from work and many nights away from my family. The nights were spent drinking, doing cocaine, and engaging in sexual activities which were always enhanced because of the drug. On one hand I was a working and family man, and on the other a party man. This lifestyle was destroying everything that made life worthwhile. At times I felt my family was becoming a burden to my new lifestyle, but deep down I still loved, wanted and needed them so very much. I hated what I was doing to them but could not stop. I could only think of the party life and my own pleasures. My life was a total mess, and I was helpless to do anything about it.
I began hating myself. What is wrong with me? . . . I would ask myself in rare moments of solitude. I began to hate the world and even life itself. Why do I hate so much of my life? Why am I so angry all the time? Why isn't there any peace? Is there any joy in life? Why do I act like this? I had all these questions and more, but no answers.
In 1997, my absenteeism from work had prompted the personnel department to talk with me about straightening up. Without mentioning my cocaine addiction, I told them it was alcohol and that I would get help. Shortly thereafter they started drug testing and I knew I had big trouble, and put off the testing. One morning in February, I came into work hung over and tired from partying all night. I was fired. With nothing to do, I was soon spending my time drinking and using cocaine more. Due to the increase of powered cocaine use over the past few months, I now found it necessary to have harder drugs just to keep the misery away. However, nothing was easing the pain.
When a 'so-called' friend offered me crack cocaine, I was ready for the ultimate failure! The 'crack' seemed to replace the emptiness, boredom and anger. Feeling good on the inside, and without knowing it, I had placed myself in a new bondage. 'Crack' became my passion and the love of my heart. I was spending more time away from my family, and more in bars or at parties. Even worse, I was spending whole nights in dark basements smoking 'crack' with my friends. This disastrous addiction had a firm grip on my life. It was difficult for me to quit. I tried to stop on many occasions but was always unsuccessful. I was a miserable man. I could see the damage it was doing to my family as I saw the fear in their eyes and the pain on their faces. To be honest, it hurt deeply to see them like this, but I could not stop using cocaine. At times I would pray to God to help me. I hated myself but nothing mattered to me but the 'crack.’
I WAS LIVING, YET SO DEAD INSIDE
Within a few short months, my life had turned upside down. I was a slave to 'crack' cocaine, and did not know how to function without it. Even as I smoked one 'rock', I was already thinking about the next one. It felt good to inhale deeply and hold that smoke in my lungs as it became my escape from reality. I was controlled entirely by my desire for it. I craved it all the time. I was now with a group of users and the weekly use had become a daily happening. I was borrowing money from anybody who would lend me some. What I hated most was when I let myself get dead broke for white crumbs of something that enslaved me. Cocaine was destroying my mind and compelling me to do things I did not want to do. I was living, yet so dead inside.
As my character and personality changed for the worse, a doctor placed me on Prozac to fight my depression. Not meant to be taken while drinking or smoking cocaine, the results were devastating. I became a 'monster' and would have periods of rage in which anger and destruction took over. I began distancing myself from my family, and neglecting my financial responsibilities. I hated myself more and more all the time as cocaine gave me a 'false' peace and joy. I cherished and loved the crackling noise it made as I smoked, and the smell it left in the air. I spent every dollar I could get my hands on for the 'crack'. If I did not have it to smoke, I was irritable, miserable, anxious, angry, empty, and even paranoid.
This paranoia had my mind playing tricks on me as in desperation I would search for pieces of 'crack' everywhere. After the last 'rock' had been smoked, and not having money for more, I just knew I must have dropped some. I would be attracted by any white object on the floor that resembled a 'rock', and found myself on my knees picking it up hoping it was real. I hated myself. I had told myself I would never be an addict, but here I was crawling on the floor. I realized I had fallen to the lowest point in my life. Not only was the drug causing me to do these strange things, but I was often being tormented by demons and/or evil spirits when I would fall asleep whether day or night.
I would wake up in a cold sweat with my heart pounding -- sensing something or somebody somewhere in the room. I would wait in fear and often in a mode of paralysis. Then I would be physically attacked by this force that seemed to drop on me from above. This thing would hold me down while choking me as I tried to scream for help but no sound would come forth. I would literally wrestle with this force, and at times I would give up as it zapped my strength. At that point, this thing would enter my body and have its way. On mornings after these attacks, I would have severe headaches, be very tired, and have no energy whatsoever. Cocaine was destroying me, but it had become an obsession I could not shake, and I was ready to serve this new 'master' no matter the cost. And 'crack' was costing me everything!
There were times I was actually determined to change and stop the cocaine and partying, and be a loving husband and father. I would hold my wife in my arms, and watch her as she slept. I loved her so very much, and holding her and the boys made me realize how important they were in my life. I promised my family I would always be there to take care of them no matter what. Even as I embraced them or made the promise, there was a part of me sensing I was going to lose them. Yet, my cocaine habit was making it impossible for me to keep my promises. I hated the man and the father I had become. I was staying away from my own family because I did not want them to see what I was becoming, or so I did not have to face them after again letting them down. Losing my job as provider and protector of my family had hurt me badly, and I was having a difficult time accepting my failure.
I did not like what I was doing to them, and at times they seemed to even draw away when they saw me coming. Even sensing this, I would go out and smoke more cocaine to soothe the pain. I would then erupt in screaming rages at my wife and sons, and then hate myself for doing so. I was being more abusive with people and especially my own family who often felt the anger I now carried. They became afraid of me most of the time and would watch me from a distance. I was neglecting my sons, and they would not run to hug me when I came home. I would often find my wife silently crying, which hurt me deeply. But even with this feeling, I would steal money from her pockets for more cocaine. I recalled an expensive 18‑carat gold cross I had taken from a man after I had beaten him in a fight. I had given the cross to my mother as a gift. She had become a Christian a few years before, and I knew she was praying for me. She would ask me to drive her to church almost every Sunday. This cross was her favorite piece of jewelry and she cherished it. I went into her home one night and took the cross so I could get some cocaine.
“GOD – PLEASE HELP ME!”
During March, I found myself away from the family for days at a time. I would be smoking 'crack' on those days while spending money I did not have. I had sold a car for $650.00 and spent all the money for 'crack' over several days instead of for the family's needs. While walking home that particular night, I was feeling guilty for the hurt I would be causing my family, and for letting them down again. As I was hating myself, I recall gazing upward and watching the comet Hale-Bopp. For some unknown reason or understanding from where the thoughts originated, I found myself whispering, “God – please help me!”
My cocaine addiction continued to control my life, and by the end of April the family possessions had all been sold except for a few personal items. Almost all the furniture had been re‑possessed, and utilities were being shut off. The police tacked a court-ordered eviction notice to my front door giving me ten days to pay rent owed or vacate premises. Even with my family facing eviction, my desire for cocaine was ruling my mind. I sold another car and showed the money to my wife to ease her mind. Two nights later that money had been 'smoked' away and I had not paid the rent.
A few days later, I walked into my house and found my wife had packed our few remaining possessions. She began crying when I asked her what she was doing, and she said, "See what you have done to us! We are being evicted and must be out of our home by noon tomorrow." I cannot explain the hurt I experienced at that moment. I finally realized some of the hell my family had been experiencing.
Seeing the pain in the faces of those who loved and depended on me, I hated myself. I hated cocaine! I had tried quitting many times but had always failed. My whole life had become a failure. Even knowing it was the last day in our home, I was powerless to stop what was happening. As that morning came to an end, I only knew I needed money. Knowing I had to think clearly, I went out and spent my last ten dollars on 'crack'. I was about to embark upon an even bigger mistake in my life.
When the afternoon of Monday, May 5th arrived, I was about to carry out the answer to my dilemma. At 3:05 P.M. I walked into a bank wearing dark sunglasses and an old baseball cap. I had a bandanna which I pulled over my face, put my hand into my coat pocket as if I had a gun, and entered the door saying, “This is a robbery!” When I left the bank a few moments later, I had the money to solve my problems. I paid the landlord which gave my family a place to live, and the electric company so we could have heat and lights. I had found my answer; or so I thought.
For the next week or so, I was a responsible husband and a caring father. Having money seemed to restore the family's confidence in me. I was able to do without cocaine for those days which made me feel good about myself. Having no choice, I had lied to my wife about where the money had come from. I told her I had sold two cars. When the emptiness returned, I knew my answer was cocaine. Balancing things out again, I gave in and smoked some! I felt better, but knew I wanted my family's love also. Somehow, I had to have both in my life.
The money from the robbery was almost gone, and more was needed. Since the first robbery had gone so well, I figured I could do it again. Knowing what I was about to do that fateful morning, I had a difficult time saying goodbye to my wife and sons. I got back out of the car and gave each of them a big hug as I told them I loved them. I promised them I would return shortly. Even sensing a possibility that all might not go well, I still drove away.
On May 23rd, I entered the same bank again. “Give me the money!” I demanded, as I waved a toy gun in the face of the bank teller. “Everybody on the floor now!” Seeing the gun, the teller's response was, “Oh my God, Jesus Christ! Oh my God, Jesus Christ!" I ordered him to give me only one hundred dollar bills. Taking the money, I fled the bank.
Upon entering my neighborhood, I noticed a large number of police cars which were not normally around. I sensed inside that they were looking for me. I sat in the car weeping as my heart ached with a horrible empty pain. My poor wife and sons had no idea what had just taken place. However, all those police cars told me they were going through a very difficult and heart-wrenching time as they heard the story they must have found unbelievable. No way could their husband and father be the man police said had done this terrible thing. Their innocent lives would never be the same, and none of it was their fault. They did not deserve what was happening, and as I realized my plan had failed, I hated myself even more. I lost all hope of ever seeing the most important people in my life ever again; my loving family! They were the only ones I had ever truly loved, and now they were going to be out of my life forever. I had no one to blame but myself.
I left the car and proceeded on foot to a friend's house. That evening, I borrowed my friend's car and drove past my home. There was still a car in the area which I knew was not supposed to be there. I told myself I was not going to prison. As miserable as I was, I would go crazy being caged like an animal. I hated myself for what I had done to my family and for the person I had become. The guilt inside was tearing me apart. I felt I had to get away.
Having left my car earlier in the day, I now bought one from a friend. Later that evening I bought some cocaine, and as I headed back to the car, I was jumped, beaten and robbed. The attackers had gotten all of the money from the bank robbery, and had caused extensive damage to my head. One side of my face was smashed and bleeding, and the eye blackened. My neck had been severely sprained, and I had three puncture holes in the top of my head from nails. I ached all over but knew I could not seek medical help because I was being sought by the police.
I fled the state as a wanted fugitive and traveled to Indiana. I was taking a trip into more pain and darkness than I could have ever imagined.
BATTLEGROUND
As I traveled the endless highways, I began to realize the seriousness of my actions. My worst nightmare had turned into reality. For the first time, I started to understand just how much cocaine had destroyed my life, and the lives of my family. A heaviness filled my heart causing a tremendous pain, as a voice in my head kept telling me my family ‘hated me,’ and I would never feel their embraces of love again. In my state of depression, I had no reason to disagree with that awful voice. I continued to drive … not knowing or even caring where I was headed.
I ended up in South Bend where my sister lived. Her apartment was on the second floor of a complex with a balcony overlooking a small wooded area. I did not tell her what had happened or why the family was not with me, even though she would ask. I missed my family terribly and wanted to call my wife but that inner voice was telling me not to make contact. I knew she did not know about the changes cocaine had made in me. I just knew she would never understand or forgive me for my actions.
For the next several weeks I was busy adjusting to my new identity. Due to the past, I was only able to hold temporary jobs. When I had the money saved, I went back to buying, fixing, and selling used cars. If it had not been for the past and if the family had been with me, I could have enjoyed this new life. It would have been wonderful having them with me under these conditions. This time I would make sure things would be different. I wanted to call, but still sensed a phone call would place them in danger, and help the police find my location.
However, the hurt and loneliness forced me to call. When she first heard my voice there was only silence. Then after what seemed like hours, her tears started to flow which sent a horrible shot of pain throughout my body. The tears continued for both of us. The hurt in me was so overwhelming that I was sobbing openly and saying over and over, “I am so sorry, baby.” As we talked, I knew how much I loved and needed her back in my life. I wanted a 'new life', but knew in my heart it would be an impossibility. I knew I could never be the person she and the boys deserved – not in the state I was in. I talked with her and my youngest son for hours, and we all knew there was no hope of us being a family again. In spite of the risks and the pain, I continued to call each day just so I could hear their voices. What had I done to myself and those who mattered most in my life?
Even though I had a new start, things were not right without my family. I was missing them more each day, which was increasing the heaviness and hurt. Yet, somehow I had to go on which would mean going back to cocaine. I still hated cocaine for it was responsible for where I was, and all the pain - which was my constant companion. I had said it would never again be a part of my life, but my heart had such an emptiness that my depression soon overcame me. I did not want cocaine but it seemed my body was crying out for it, and a voice was telling me it would be the only thing to numb the hurt within. I bought and smoked 'crack' once more. I may have relieved my sense of despair for a few hours, but when the effects had worn off, I hated myself even more than before. The cocaine led my thoughts back to money and the banks around the area.
“THIS MESSAGE IS FOR YOU!”
On July 3rd, I was at it again. That morning I scanned a small Federal Bank with every intention of robbing it. As I drove by, I had the radio on while letting the cocaine build up my courage, and deciding how to execute my plan. Hitting the scanner button to switch stations, I heard one of those 'so-called' preachers talking about a 'new life' through Jesus Christ. Knowing what I had always said to God and thought of him in the past, I had no intentions of listening to that stuff. I reached for the button, but was stopped short when he said, "This message is for you!" Hesitating, I found myself drawn to his words, and I listened to the remainder of the message without even knowing why.
He was talking about how sin separated us from God but through faith in Jesus Christ a 'new life' was available. I ignored the message believing it did not apply to me. Yet I had a stirring within my heart, and for some reason those words destroyed my desire to rob that bank. Even as I was changing my mind, that old voice was telling me there was no hope for me, and that I was beyond help because God hated people like me. Oh, how I wanted a 'new life'! My addiction had started to take away my desire to be alive. I drove away from the bank, and headed for the country. I was thinking about the message on the radio, and there was a 'challenging' feeling on the inside. It was a different feeling, and it had me wondering if it all meant I could really start over.
Sensing my mother had been praying for me, I felt an urgency to call her. This need to call her continued to dominate my thoughts as I was driving around. I finally stopped and called. The phone was answered by my brother, and when he heard my voice, his first words were, “I have met the bank teller you robbed, and he has a message for you.” I had no wish to hear about this man or what he had to say. But before I could say a word, my brother went on. “He wants you to know that he and the members of his church are praying for you.”
I was stunned! I could have understood a message of condemnation but never what I heard. I knew this man thought I had placed his life in danger with a gun., I could not understand why he was praying for me. Something seemed to grieve my heart, and I started to weep. Something was taking place inside of me, and my heart was aching. I got back into the car, and continued driving. I could not stop thinking about that bank teller and why he would be praying for me. Those words from the bank teller, along with the message by the radio preacher earlier that day, were having a strange effect on me. I had new sensations working in my heart, and I even began to wonder if I could have a 'new life'. Even the thought of that possibility sent shivers throughout my body.
I was actually feeling miserable and even guilty for what I had done to people when I had hurt them or ruined their lives. This feeling was foreign to me, yet the caring I felt was making me feel good on the inside. These new sensations were leaving me weak but with an inner strength. That awful voice from inside of me was growing 'strangely' quiet. I was still driving the countryside as night descended. Looking out the car window, my attention was drawn to something bright in the sky. I thought it was a plane until I saw it was not moving. I noticed it was a brilliant star but lower in the sky than I had ever seen one before. Gazing upward, my heart had this unexplainable and strange anticipation deep inside. I continued to watch the star as I drove home.
Arriving back at the apartment and entering, I was compelled to step onto the balcony. Right away my attention was drawn to the shining star which was still there. As I was watching, it slowly started to move and was soon out of my sight. I had spent many hours on the balcony while smoking cigarettes after coming home from drinking. On this particular night, I was thinking about the life that might have been. I wanted to look into the sky which always made me feel good. In my heart those feelings which had been with me since driving away from the bank were growing more intense, and I was now embracing them like I had never embraced anything in my life before. I sensed I should look above the horizon, for a new phase of my life was about to begin. Gazing deeper into the heavens, I cried out!!
INTO THE LIGHT
Had I even cried out or had it all been from my imagination? I had been feeling an electrified sensation on the inside since driving away from the bank. The bank teller's message that he was praying for me - the radio preacher's words on a 'new life' - the brilliant star – I had the anticipation something was about to happen.
As my mind filled with the wonder and peace of nature, questions arose that I had never considered before. I wondered who was responsible for making the stars, the moon, the clouds, and all of creation. As I was pondering these questions, it was revealed to me. I realized that only God could create such beauty. It had to be God. It was God!
If He was the creator of the universe, then I knew He could change my life. As I stood on the balcony gazing toward the heavens, a series of cold surges radiated throughout my body. This filled me with shivers all over. At that moment, my heart began to pound as if it were trying to tell me something. I was totally engulfed by an omnipotent but loving presence. The day's anticipation I had felt was now taking place.
Vivid scenes from my past began to flash before my eyes. I was being shown all the pain and hurt I had inflicted upon others. Only this time the pain was mine. And it was real! Its realness was intensifying the heaviness in my heart. I began crying for the mess I had made of my life. Suddenly I found myself talking to God. Only this time it was so different.
I called out, “God, if You are real, change my life. Take away my cocaine addiction.” I no longer wanted that cocaine habit. I did not want to rob banks. “Please forgive me for robbing that bank.” I only wanted to be rid of all the wrongs. I wanted to be clean. I wanted to be free. While still looking skyward from the balcony, I kept praying to Him. Another voice was interrupting. It kept reminding me of who I was and all I had done in my life. I began to feel unworthy. Confusion was invading My thoughts.
Even in my despair, again I cried out, “God, please help me! Set me free! I don’t want to live like this any longer. Please help me!” In that instant of crying out to God for help, I recognized what was causing the heaviness I was feeling. It was guilt. It was all that guilt from sin.
WHY WOULD HE DIE FOR ME?
I was not prepared for what happened next. I vividly heard the radio preacher's words from earlier that day, and my heart began to beat faster. He had said that Jesus Christ had died for me and had paid for my sin. Could it be true that He had died for me? I could understand that, but people just don't rise up from the dead! Those words were bothering me and confused me even more. Doubts were returning. But at the same time, I was saying, “Why would Jesus Christ die for me?” It just did not make any sense. I had always done wrong which meant I definitely was not worthy of Him having died for me. “Would He? Did He?” What if it was really true that He had died for me. I was being torn apart by a powerful battle being waged on the inside.
“Had Jesus Christ died for me and then risen from the dead?” I was being compelled to ask this question over and over. God was showing me that I already knew the answer. All I had to do was believe in my heart that Jesus Christ had died for me, and risen from the dead. If I did believe, then I would have the 'new life' I so desperately wanted. The story of Jesus Christ was not new to me, but for the first time, I was actually beginning to believe it. The doubts began to fade, being replaced by an inner peace. As I slowly accepted what God had been whispering, my mind cleared and everything began to make sense.
I now understood why Jesus Christ had died, had been buried, and had risen from the dead. He had done it all for me! As I comprehended the depth of this truth, my heart began to leap with extreme joy. My heart began to burn and beat even faster as it made me aware another heavenly presence was now beside me on the balcony. It was ‘jumping’ with uncontrollable joy. My heart was overflowing with a wonderful excitement as it recognized the One it had been searching for all along. It was Jesus! Knowing this was the Person who had died for me, a feeling of unworthiness swept throughout my body. I was overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and shame. I felt sorrow in my heart for having grieved Him all my life. I was confronted by the living Christ, and faced with a decision to make.
I then began to talk to Him. Weeping, I said, “You should not have died for me. I don’t deserve Your love and mercy.” I knew He had sacrificed His life on the cross for me, and I did not deserve Him in my life. Yet, I wanted Him so badly!
Sensing a glimmer of hope and with tears in my eyes, I cried out, “Jesus, come into my heart. Take away my cocaine addiction and give me a new life!”
As I spoke these words, a series of cold chills radiated throughout as His resurrected Spirit entered my body. Immediately my heart was filled to overflowing with unexplainable peace as I realized something had taken place deep inside. My heart was bubbling with joy as I comprehended the fact that Jesus was real and alive! Yes, He had been resurrected from the dead! He was now living within me!
I cried as the heavy burden of my sin disappeared forever. My body, spirit and mind felt clean and pure. His love filled me with extreme hope for my life. His indwelling Spirit gave me the desire to live again. The emptiness and heaviness I had carried all my life were now gone. He made me realize I no longer needed cocaine to fill the desires of my heart. On July 3, 1997, Jesus Christ set me free from my addiction and gave me a 'new life'. His life!
“TELL THOSE IN PRISON ABOUT ME”
I was now ready for Him to live His life through me. I no longer wanted to live for myself, but for Him. I asked Jesus to take my life and lead me in the direction He desired, because my life was completely His.
His response clearly opened my eyes as He revealed to me millions of addicts in need of hope. Instantly I felt a burden in my heart to take His light into the dark world I had just been freed from. The thought of them meeting Jesus flooded my heart with joy. I now understood why the bank teller had been praying for me. This man had the love of Jesus Christ within his heart. Jesus placed an urgency in my spirit to tell the world about Him. I wanted others to find Him. People needed to know who He was. As I stood there meditating on these thoughts I asked, “Jesus, what do you want me to do?”
An inner low voice replied, “Go back and tell those in prison about me.”
My worst fear had been spoken, and I could not help but hesitate for a few moments as I thought about the years I would be in prison. It was going to be very difficult going back, for not only did the thought of prison scare me, but I had my family to consider. I knew His request to return would take me away from my loved ones for a long time. But nothing else mattered in my life except following Jesus. Realizing I had to follow my heart, I made my decision and said, “Yes, Jesus, I will go back!” But I pleaded, “I can’t do it alone. I will need You with me!” In spite of my fear, I was filled with an exciting anticipation for I knew I would be sharing my Redeemer with others.
As my heart calmed, I asked God if I could see my family one more time; His peace assured me I would be seeing them. Knowing I only wanted to exalt the name of Jesus Christ to others, I fell asleep with the greatest peace I had ever known.
WALKING IN THE LIGHT
The following morning I miraculously eluded capture by local police and FBI agents. By the grace of God, two days later at a motel in Fort Wayne, Indiana, my loved ones were back in my life. My youngest son jumped into my arms as I pulled my wife and oldest son close. Knowing God had done what I thought was impossible, he brought them back. I silently thanked Him for blessing me with such a beautiful family.
On July 14th, I returned to Michigan to turn myself over to authorities for the bank robberies. The next day as I sat silently with my wife and youngest son in the parking lot of the police department, my heart began to ache tremendously. I had entrusted my family into God's care, and now assured them all would be well. Turning myself in and saying goodbye was only possible because of my desire to serve Jesus Christ. (Please read: John 14:15) Seeing their tears as we approached the entrance hurt me deeply, and I asked God to give me the strength and courage to take my step of faith through those doors. (Please read: Hebrews 11:6)
Even being handcuffed and transported to the Kent County Jail could not stop the inner joy I felt. With a sense of excitement in my heart, I knew what Jesus had revealed to me on the balcony was about to become reality. My vision came alive, but grieved my heart as I saw men with pain and despair etched on their faces. Immediately I began sharing my story with them. As my heart bubbled with joy, I told them how Jesus was really alive, and how He had come into my heart and given me a 'new life'. I told them how I had turned myself in for the bank robberies. Most could not believe I came back but my joy showed them Jesus was real. Sensing a possibility of hope for their lives had many believing, understanding, and then giving their lives to Christ.
Men of all ages were being drawn to the living Christ dwelling in me as they sought advice, comfort and release of sin.
Sharing Jesus was bringing overwhelming joy to my heart, but jail was taking a toll. Visits with my family made me realize how difficult things were for them. After three months I had become discouraged, and God responded to my prayers by sending a fiery but compassionate preacher by the name of Dennis Napieralski. "Some of you are headed to prison but not to serve the State of Michigan. You are on a mission and will be God's Ambassador as you tell others about Jesus Christ," he said as his tear-filled eyes met mine. His genuine concern and love for prisoners touched me deeply as he showed me what a ‘real man of God was like’ (See: 1 Corinthians 13:1-3). His message ignited a fire back in my heart as his words confirmed God’s course for my life.
On October 28, 1997, the judge quoted Romans 6:16 before sentencing me to 10-60 years for the bank robberies. Two weeks later I was transferred to Jackson State Prison, and again my burden became reality. Seeing others shackled reminded me of the heavy chains of sin which had bound me for 28 years of my life. Through my eyes, Jesus saw multitudes of lost souls, and knew He was their answer, but they had to be told. “How then shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher?” (Romans 10:14) Instantly He started using me to bring a message of hope into their lives. And again many were responding to Jesus' love for them.
Locked in a cell on the fourth gallery gave me a view of the whole cell-block. During the night I would stand at the front of my cell looking down at the hundreds of men who were living in spiritual darkness. Jesus had me praying for these men as He saw deep into their sin-destroyed lives. Jesus knew their hurts and pains as He sensed their hopelessness from the despair they carried. Having experienced the pain these men were feeling, I was able to identify with them. I found myself weeping often because of the hurt I saw. With the love of Jesus showing through me, He broke down the walls Satan had built by deception. In John 8:12 Jesus says, "I am the light of the world. He who follows me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life." Jesus was their answer and the only hope they had for true freedom and a 'new life'.
My next eighteen months were spent at a level four maximum security prison in Saginaw, Michigan where men were serving long sentences. Jesus used the 23 hours in a cell each day to strengthen me in His Word. I would even spend nights at my cell door window reading the Bible by the only dim light available. The strength was needed as Jesus was now working with men who had totally given up on life. Most of these men hated everything and everybody. Sensing no purpose to life, they especially had no use for or belief in God. Jesus had me go forth knowing His love would light the way. He had me sharing my story and His message of forgiveness and eternal hope. I was called the 'man of God' which Jesus used to draw men into His kingdom. Thank you, Jesus!
In 2001, Jesus began using me in a mighty way to speak to men at Carson City Correctional Facility in Michigan. He also used me to speak and minister at Christ-centered services sponsored by Alpha Prison Ministries. When I was transferred to another State Correctional Facility, I looked for opportunities to be used however God wanted to use me, as the Holy Spirit guided my words. As many came to repentance, the urgency God has for revival in the prison system became evident. Jesus used my love and faith in Him to open hearts and eyes of other men who now carry God's burden for lost souls and revival in prisons. Ministering and pointing others to Jesus Christ gave me joy and peace during those years. All I can say is, “Thank You, Jesus!”
The living Christ changed my whole life, and made me a new man. (Please see: II Corinthians 5:17). He has taken my sin, my faults, and my poor choices and turned them completely around. He has taken away my anger and rage and taught me to reach out to others in love. The once foul language used to viciously attack people and God, now shares the love of Jesus and praises God. Jesus has given me a thirst for His Word. My ravenous appetite for God's knowledge and wisdom has increased my understanding of Him and has helped me earn my GED certificate and take college courses as He prepares me for my future as a obedient servant.
It has been Jesus Christ in me which has made these years bearable, for without His love and presence, I would have given up long ago. I often wonder what type of person prison would have made me without Jesus Christ. According to a prison clinician, I clearly had "an antisocial personality of the psychopathic type." He predicted my aggressive assault-like behavior would rule my actions and cause me problems. Because of Jesus in my heart and the Word of God cleansing my mind, I have proven this man wrong. As I look back over my life, I realize how God has always been there to bring me through. My heavenly Father knew of a higher purpose for my life all along. I am living proof of God's infinite love for mankind. I praise Jesus Christ for allowing me to be crucified with Him. “It is no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives within me.” (Galatians 2:20)
My past and my incarceration took a toll o my loved ones, and although we were not to be reunited as a family, I continue to pray that my sons and their mother will come to know the Lord Jesus Christ as Savior and that the best years of their lives are yet to come - in His family.
As I look back over my life, I realize how God has always been there to bring me through. I am so thankful for the bank teller, Noel Quinonez, whose message of prayer so deeply touched my heart. It helped change the course of my life forever. Thank you, Jesus! My heavenly Father knew of a higher purpose for my life all along. I am living proof of God's infinite love for mankind. I praise Jesus Christ for allowing me to be crucified with Hi. "It is no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives within me." (Galatians 2:20)
GOD'S VISION
As a result of what God did in my life four years ago on that balcony, many in prison have come to know Jesus Christ. As my journey continues, my God-given burden and vision is for genuine revival to spread throughout the prison system. When Jesus saw multitudes, He was moved with compassion because they were weary and scattered like sheep having no shepherd. Then He said to His disciples, "The harvest truly is plentiful but the laborers are few.” (Matthew 9:36-38) And in the prison system that is true, for God cares for the lost. (See: 2 Peter 3:9) Prayer for this awakening in prisons is greatly needed as God opens doors for an outpouring of His Spirit as we approach the second coming of Jesus Christ. In Matthew 24:44 Jesus said, "Therefore, you also be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at hour when you do not expect Him."
God is a God of second chance! I am living my second chance to reach others by uplifting the name of Jesus Christ. This is done through discipling, teaching and evangelizing as I push toward my goal of Christ-likeness by 'embracing the cross'. I am a living testimony of God's grace toward sinners, and no matter what type of dependency you have, there is hope for you! "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; Behold all things have become new." (II Corinthians 5:17)
In God's great mercy, I was released from prison in 2005 -- having served eight-and-a-half years. Since my release from prison, I've had the opportunity to serve in inner-city ministry, evangelizing in the streets in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and country jails, and preaching to the lost and hurting, maintain letter contact with brothers still in prison to encourage them, and writing about revival in the Church of Jesus Christ.
In 2007, a man was murdered in our front yard, and due to all the drug-related crime in our neighborhood, (you can hear shots almost every night!), God moved me to put a big lighted cross in our front yard, and we've invited people in the neighborhood to join us in prayer at different times to pray against the evil that so many people live with day in and day out in that area of Grand Rapids. We encourage more people to join us regularly in our outside prayer vigils - around the cross - and we're so thankful for those God has brought thus far. We realize persistence is important in seeing God tear down demonic strongholds like this. We know that God wants to curtail the evil that has nearly overtaken our area of the city (much like in most cities across America), and we know that when people will come together in prayer - putting their "religious and racial and social-economic differences" aside, and simply humble themselves and call out to God to intervene to hold back the evil that ensnares so many of the people who live up and down the block ... God will respond to our prayers. We just have to be patient and keep believing.
Since my release from prison, God has given me a wonderful ministry partner who has become my wife. What a blessing from God!
As my story is read, I pray that the Holy Spirit will continue to use my words and experiences to speak to people. Hopefully, many reading this will respond to God, and people don't always listen to the experiences of others and learn from them. But it is God's Spirit who opens hearts and eyes and ears to the Truth in His time. I hope that readers will learn from my experiences and not have to go through the bitter lessons of suffering and loss that I had to face in order to learn. If God's Spirit has spoken to you through this story, then He wants a response from you. He wants an affirmative response. Today you can accept Christ into your heart and begin a new life. If you would like to receive Jesus, please pray this prayer with me:
Dear Lord Jesus,
I know I am a sinner. Right now I ask you to forgive me. I know you died for my sin on the cross and shed your blood for me. Right now I invite you into my heart to be my Savior. I now give you my life. Lead me in the direction you want. Thank you Jesus for saving me. Amen.
“Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed." (John 8:36)
Martin Briseno
p.s. We have a small blog we just started at http://thereforegoand.blogspot.com/ if you want to take a look.
