“So let the water’s rise, if you want them to”
I don’t know why I haven’t written about this miracle sooner. Maybe I was waiting for confirmation from a second doctor,which I finally got on Tuesday, to squelch any questions some may have of its validity. Maybe I have been too busy to write. I don’t really know but I know it’s been in the back of my head for 9 months now. It is a story of what God has done for me. It is the ultimate miracle to date in my life and it’s been 14 years in the making. Four years ago I was diagnosed with Crohns disease and now I stand here on October 20th 2011 and proclaim that two separate doctors have looked into my digestive system and confirmed to me that they don’t see any signs of Crohn’s disease. I’m going to write in several parts where I have come from,what God has done,and what a miracle it is that I no longer live with what the secular world proclaimed to be an “incurable” disease. And of course we are going to have a little fun at my expense along the way.
14 years ago this month I got sick. Very sick. So sick the next year of my life was spent trying to figure out what the heck was going on. My symptoms were bloody and frequent diarrhea,fatigue,anemia,and fevers. Whatever it was this was rip roared into my life right at the beginning of the one of the most coveted years of a young man’s life;my senior year in high school. I had finally come into my own socially and what do you know,I started pooping blood with no control over it. Not exactly a trait the ladies were looking for. I missed a ton of school and spent a lot of time at doctor’s offices. I had no clue I was about to embark on a struggle that these words on a piece of paper could never fully explain.
About 9 months after the initial symptoms I was finally diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis,the second most severe digestive disease possible. U.C. is inflammatory bowel disease. It is defined as inflammation of the large intestine. About 1 in 300 Americans have either Colitis or the more serious Crohn’s disease. I spent the next 5 years on high doses of the sterioid prednisone,which I know now is just as bad as the disease itself.
The drug kept me alive though,although a lot of those years I was so drugged up I almost felt comatose. I was not myself. I was miserable, unhappy,and unhealthy. My hair thinned out and my face puffed up as side effects of the drugs. I was told I was going to lose my hips if I didn’t get off of prednisone,and I was only 21 years old.
When I was at my sickest I couldn’t even keep my head up over my shoulders. I was so weak that I couldn’t sit up for more than a few minutes at a time. (For a miracle story God gave me from this time in my life please read this blog if you haven’t already…. joeyd5641.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-first-time-actually-seeing-god-in.html)
I also had no control over my bowels. At its worst I would have about 5 seconds between the time I first felt the urge to go,to the time I was actually going uncontrollably. Much to my chagrin there was not always a bathroom within 5 seconds of me. I would have to wear diapers when I went out during the day sometimes. I remember a time when I was at a New York Giants conference championship game and trying to decide if I wanted to wear a diaper or just risk it. I had already gone to the bathroom behind a parking lot dumster on the way to the game and didn’t want this huge game to be ruined by soiling myself. I remember deciding to wear the diaper in and telling myself, “This is awesome,you are watching your team play for the super bowl and your diaper is going to make sure you don’t miss it.” I was legitimately stoked. A 20 year old man with a diaper,his best friend, and his football team. ‘This is the life.’( I didn’t end up needing the diaper that day after all.)
But all joking aside,that was my life. Not to mention all that goes along with 10 to 20 disease driven bowel movements a day. I used to sleep all day and stay up all night because the day time was just too hard for me. I didn’t like going out during the daylight because I couldn’t inconspicuously drop a bowel movement at mine or someone else’s front tire in the sunlight. My eyes were also severely damaged by the potent amounts of steroids I was on and my eyes were so sensitive to light that I couldn’t stand it. One time a friend of mine stopped over during the day and I came out to the driveway. After I went back inside I couldn’t see a thing. I realized my eyes hadn’t seen daylight in so long that they were struggling to adjust from dark to light to dark again and I was just seeing darkness now. It went away after a few minutes but it was really a wake up call to how indisposed my body was.
In all these years I had no relationship with Jesus. I didn’t really care to. Perhaps I was mad at him. I really don’t remember. I was rude to my family and distant from my friends. I lived as a shell of myself. The disease and the drugs had worn me down and I had withered away to about 130 pounds at 6 foot 2. Looking back I probably should have died at some point,had it not been against God’s plan for my life.
I spent many a night in the hospital getting fluids or being examined. I was also a guinea pig to a new drug,being the first person in Rochester to receive Remicade for bowel disease. I had such a bad reaction to that drug that I ended up with a 107 degree temperature and rising before I finally got admitted into the intensive care unit of the old Genesee Hospital . I am convinced that without God’s supernatural touch,I die that night. I can’t tell you what it felt like,but it was bad and I don’t know how much worse it could have feasibly gotten before death would have occurred.
At some point in 2001,I went to a free clinic for osteoporis screening and waited in a long line with all elderly folks. After about 10 minutes I literally couldn’t stand anymore and bowed out of the line as all the people 50 to 60 years older than me stood there fine. It was that day that I knew I had to do something to regain my life.
On Christmas Eve of 2001 my mother and I went to a surgeon and decided I would have my diseased intestine removed. It would be a 2 surgery ordeal. The first,removal of the large intestine and the rectum, with construction of a J-pouch. The J Pouch would be my small intestine folded on itself and would serve as my new digestive system. I would be required to have an ileostomy bag for six months while my system healed. An ileostomy is when your small intestine is pulled thru your stomach and protrudes on the outside of your body,and excretes feces into an attached bag that hangs down.
Now the prospects of a bag were intimidating but we knew it was the only chance I would ever gain some semblance of a life. The surgery was a beast and a bear all rolled into one. On April 2 nd ,2002 I woke up with a foot long incision on my stomach,a poop bag hanging off of it, and the worst pain I have ever experienced. When my loved ones looked at the wound I could tell it must have been awful because tears welled up in their eyes. The doctors told me they had never seen a colon so diseased as mine. It was going to be a long road to recovery. But the good news was as my disease was defined as confined to the large intestine,now that I had removed it,I was disease free.
The ileostomy bag was a challenge. Some nights I would roll over on it while I slept and,what do you know?Pop goes the fecal. I did try to make the most of it though. I was open about having it and once placed it on a co-workers forearm and asked him “is this yours?”,before he ran into the bathroom and hid for about a half hour. I also wore it on the outside of my pants at a Chinese restaurant,much to the horror of my eating companion,Dan Wallace. I had to make the most of it and make fun of myself. After all how else do you deal with defecating thru your stomach skin?
In September of 2002 I had surgery 2. They took away the bag and I would be able to go the normal way again. They said to expect it to start with about 10 to 15 movements a day and to go down to about 3 to 5. I was excited that I was disease free and ready to get off the Prednisone (it took me a year to wean off the monster). I was ready to embark on my new life. The only problem was….. I never got better.
I had problems with the new pouch from the get go. I was going non stop and couldn’t properly evacuate. The only difference between this and colitis was I did have control over my bowels,so no diapers needed. But something was still wrong. I spent the next 5 years just living with it. I was tired of doctors and just wanted to live my life as well as I could. In May of 2007 however it was very bad and I decided to go to get a colonoscopy. The doctor discovered I was in the 1 percent who was misdiagnosed and I actually had the most serious digestive disease known to man;Crohn’s Disease.
The day I was diagnosed with Crohn’s,I played in a softball game. I hit a ball harder and further than I ever remember hitting it,for a homerun. This ball went on a straight line over the center fielders head by about 50 feet. I was not and had never been a power hitter. My mom commented that it was God giving me a blessing on such a hard day. I didn’t see it as such then,but looking back it just wasn’t in my power to hit a ball like that and I am sure it was God up to bat for me. It was so symbolic of what the next 5 years of my life was going to be like.
I had ignored God during the duration of the past disease (Colitis) and I would ignore him for the first portions of this more serious disease. But there was going to come a day where looking to him was going to lead to my deliverance. He knew what was going to happen,and that out of body homerun was just the start of the miracle of my healing from a disease I was just diagnosed with that morning.
Part 2 coming later this month. Thanks for reading!
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Feeling Mushy for A Mush; My Lebron James Sympathy Movement
If you perused Twitter last night and looked at the trends, you would have found that the number one trend-er for the day was 'Rashard Lewis'. Rashard’s Wizards didn’t make the playoffs. Not even close. So why on the day of game 5 of the NBA Finals was he trending, and not say, Lebron James?
Well you see , because ESPN reporter Stephen A. Smith had reported from a ‘reliable’ source that he had a lead about Lewis having a devious physical relationship with Lebron’s girlfriend recently.
Whether its true or not I am not sure. This is the second time a rumor of another NBA star having a relationship with someone close to Lebron has arisen in the last few playoff seasons(Google, "Delonte West likes Lebron's Mom"). If I had to guess I would say its absolute truth. Usually reported rumors from a “reliable” source in the Orlando area are indeed accurate.( See: Tiger Woods);But on the heels of the most perplexing Finals performance from a superstar I have ever heard or seen, I found myself changing my sentimental stance on Lebron; I kind of feel bad for him
I feel for him as a human. He is a mortal after all. A 25 year old not far into manhood. He didn’t choose to be given the greatest basketball talent God may have ever doled out. He didn’t ask to be followed around by a camera as a 13 year old; seemingly setting the standard for the rest of his life being scoped under the lights. He certainly didn't ask to be involved in a relationship with a woman that would be rumored to go sour and having the villain of her possible infidelity be the number one trend-er on Twitter on the afternoon of the biggest basketball game of his life.
We haters have been eating up his failures for the last few days, and most of us probably haven’t stopped to think what it would be like to have your work scrutinized by tens of millions of people. Not to mention your relationship woes broad casted throughout national news media outlets.
Sure, I am still rooting for him to fail competitively on the court at this time. I pumped my fist at almost his every miss in games four and five. I however found myself opening up the possibility of an end game to my personal chastising of him.
I certainly don’t want to see him win a title this year. And thankfully, if the Mav’s can win one of the next 2 games, he will have to at least pay a years worth of dues for his utterly gross front running attempt.
However, I am now open to the possibility, maybe even the likelihood that one day down the road I could allow myself to root for him again and even root for him to win a title.
When I woke up yesterday if you had asked me if I saw a light at the end of my bitter tunnel I would have said absolutely not. Today I realized I might just want to see the saga'd quest continue for a few more years. Heck, maybe even a decade. But if 36 year old Lebron is 0 and 5 in the finals, wearing a Minnesota Timberwolves jersey as their sixth man, and has a shot at a ring, I think I assuredly would root for the culmination of his chasing's to come to fruition for him. It's just that I enjoy good sports stories and drama so much, and the longer James goes without a title, the thicker the plot.
Listen, Lebron is struggling with an on the court complex, whether he admits it or not; Something is wrong with him and its not talent,it’s mental.
In his last 2 games, the biggest of his 25 year life, he has blended deferment and what can only be described as cowering under pressure, to a tee. The Anti King James side of me loves it. The humane side of me suddenly feels for him.
None of us could ever understand what its like to fail at our jobs and our relationships on such a public level as Lebron James has encountered in the past few days. We compare him to Michael Jordan, but he never asked to be compared to him. He never asked to be this good at basketball. He never signed up to be raked over the hottest coals in town. He never meant to be THIS.
But he did however sign up to be the bizarr-o Scottie Pippen , and my oh my what a fine job he is doing at being just plain bizarre. The man has superhuman ability and has been dubbed the chosen one, but has effectively boxed himself into a corner with his tail between his legs in this NBA Finals.
He tweeted "Now or never" before and about game 5. What now Lebron? Game 6 is still going to occur right?
This isn’t what I envisioned or hoped for from Lebron when I fell in love with his on the court character and basketball tools while he was in Cleveland.... But,this is exactly what I had hoped for when he shredded the city of Cleveland in a shameless one hour special last July.
Hey, in Four days Lebron James might win his first World Title. It’s still very much in play. But watching him on and off the court the past 2 days has given me a new found respect for the humanity of Lebron James, and opened me up to the possibility of one day rooting for him to get it all right : I see myself rooting for him to find a interior, back to the basket, post game in his later years like Michael did, when his legs were weighed down. And I find myself pipe dreaming that he might go back to Cleveland at age 31 when his contract in Miami is up, with no rings in his baggage; and to win his first in Cleveland.
I always thought I was a softy when it came to sports. I realized today that if I can see a light at the end of the tunnel, in this encompassing disdain for Lebron James self induced highway robbery of his own ceiling, that I am an even bigger softy than I first thought. But alas, I slap myself and put on my "Go Mav’s" face for now.
It’s just too soon, Lebron. I know you never asked for all of this pressure or fame, and I now hope you get your trophy one day. But not this Tuesday. Not June of 2012. Maybe not even June of 2017. But yes, some June, some day.
Until then though Lebron, would it upset you if I rooted for Delonte and Rashard to win a title first??
Well you see , because ESPN reporter Stephen A. Smith had reported from a ‘reliable’ source that he had a lead about Lewis having a devious physical relationship with Lebron’s girlfriend recently.
Whether its true or not I am not sure. This is the second time a rumor of another NBA star having a relationship with someone close to Lebron has arisen in the last few playoff seasons(Google, "Delonte West likes Lebron's Mom"). If I had to guess I would say its absolute truth. Usually reported rumors from a “reliable” source in the Orlando area are indeed accurate.( See: Tiger Woods);But on the heels of the most perplexing Finals performance from a superstar I have ever heard or seen, I found myself changing my sentimental stance on Lebron; I kind of feel bad for him
I feel for him as a human. He is a mortal after all. A 25 year old not far into manhood. He didn’t choose to be given the greatest basketball talent God may have ever doled out. He didn’t ask to be followed around by a camera as a 13 year old; seemingly setting the standard for the rest of his life being scoped under the lights. He certainly didn't ask to be involved in a relationship with a woman that would be rumored to go sour and having the villain of her possible infidelity be the number one trend-er on Twitter on the afternoon of the biggest basketball game of his life.
We haters have been eating up his failures for the last few days, and most of us probably haven’t stopped to think what it would be like to have your work scrutinized by tens of millions of people. Not to mention your relationship woes broad casted throughout national news media outlets.
Sure, I am still rooting for him to fail competitively on the court at this time. I pumped my fist at almost his every miss in games four and five. I however found myself opening up the possibility of an end game to my personal chastising of him.
I certainly don’t want to see him win a title this year. And thankfully, if the Mav’s can win one of the next 2 games, he will have to at least pay a years worth of dues for his utterly gross front running attempt.
However, I am now open to the possibility, maybe even the likelihood that one day down the road I could allow myself to root for him again and even root for him to win a title.
When I woke up yesterday if you had asked me if I saw a light at the end of my bitter tunnel I would have said absolutely not. Today I realized I might just want to see the saga'd quest continue for a few more years. Heck, maybe even a decade. But if 36 year old Lebron is 0 and 5 in the finals, wearing a Minnesota Timberwolves jersey as their sixth man, and has a shot at a ring, I think I assuredly would root for the culmination of his chasing's to come to fruition for him. It's just that I enjoy good sports stories and drama so much, and the longer James goes without a title, the thicker the plot.
Listen, Lebron is struggling with an on the court complex, whether he admits it or not; Something is wrong with him and its not talent,it’s mental.
In his last 2 games, the biggest of his 25 year life, he has blended deferment and what can only be described as cowering under pressure, to a tee. The Anti King James side of me loves it. The humane side of me suddenly feels for him.
None of us could ever understand what its like to fail at our jobs and our relationships on such a public level as Lebron James has encountered in the past few days. We compare him to Michael Jordan, but he never asked to be compared to him. He never asked to be this good at basketball. He never signed up to be raked over the hottest coals in town. He never meant to be THIS.
But he did however sign up to be the bizarr-o Scottie Pippen , and my oh my what a fine job he is doing at being just plain bizarre. The man has superhuman ability and has been dubbed the chosen one, but has effectively boxed himself into a corner with his tail between his legs in this NBA Finals.
He tweeted "Now or never" before and about game 5. What now Lebron? Game 6 is still going to occur right?
This isn’t what I envisioned or hoped for from Lebron when I fell in love with his on the court character and basketball tools while he was in Cleveland.... But,this is exactly what I had hoped for when he shredded the city of Cleveland in a shameless one hour special last July.
Hey, in Four days Lebron James might win his first World Title. It’s still very much in play. But watching him on and off the court the past 2 days has given me a new found respect for the humanity of Lebron James, and opened me up to the possibility of one day rooting for him to get it all right : I see myself rooting for him to find a interior, back to the basket, post game in his later years like Michael did, when his legs were weighed down. And I find myself pipe dreaming that he might go back to Cleveland at age 31 when his contract in Miami is up, with no rings in his baggage; and to win his first in Cleveland.
I always thought I was a softy when it came to sports. I realized today that if I can see a light at the end of the tunnel, in this encompassing disdain for Lebron James self induced highway robbery of his own ceiling, that I am an even bigger softy than I first thought. But alas, I slap myself and put on my "Go Mav’s" face for now.
It’s just too soon, Lebron. I know you never asked for all of this pressure or fame, and I now hope you get your trophy one day. But not this Tuesday. Not June of 2012. Maybe not even June of 2017. But yes, some June, some day.
Until then though Lebron, would it upset you if I rooted for Delonte and Rashard to win a title first??
Friday, April 29, 2011
Finding the Michael Scott in All of Us
Yes, I cried. Yes, I felt like a friend of mine was yanked out of my life and an important part of me was ripped out of my innards. Yes, I was elated for him to have ridden off into the fictional sunset into a life of fictional happiness; the one he had always dreamt about. The one with a wife and the promises of children. Yes, Michael Scott was veritable to me on a deeper level than just a television character.
I saw Michael Scott in a different perspective then most may have seen him. You might have seen him as a quirky, fun loving, goofy, asinine character on a television sitcom. When I really looked into his character though I found something in him that struck an esoteric nerve. He was zany and came off as a selfish, conceited imbecile because he was longing for happiness. He was often crass because he had internal anguishes of not having found true love and was simply acting out his hurts in a different avenue of expression. The creators turned him into a symbolic character that some people could relate to, whether it be at their current point in life or in a time gone by.
‘The Office’ is the only show I have watched every episode of week in and week out since ‘Seinfeld.’ With ‘Seinfeld’ I missed the first few years and never really felt drawn to a specific character. With Michael Scott I have experienced for the first time a friendship and dare I say love for a television character. The feelings are not reciprocated, and I don’t care. It doesn’t matter who or what it is, as long as it touches you on an emotionally profound level, it’s worth pouring something into.
For 7 years I watched this character yearn and suffer in an often subtle, fictionalized morphing. After all he was a mid 40 something American male who craved to be liked and longed for a family of his own. Who among us doesn’t want to be liked? Who doesn't want family to share life with?
He was teetering on the edge of tragic figure status in that he knew he was running out of time. Running out of time to play ball with his kids. Running out of time to grow old with his grand kids. He was a white collar employee with a seemingly good salary and stellar health. Yet this man was lost and lonely. It was somewhere around season 4 that it struck me that we were watching perhaps the most tragic figure in television history, masked under the guise of ridiculous humor.
The fact that his character was able to make me laugh like none other I’ve ever watched, in the midst of his search for his own personal holy grail was television genius. I always found myself rooting for him to finally find what he was looking for. But I never missed a chance to laugh at his expense either.
The 7 years I spent having the privilege of getting to know Michael Scott (Yes, I just typed that) were transcendent in my own personal life too. After a long, lonely night of gambling I would often pop in an episode of ‘The Office’ and bond with a character that was desolate in his own way.
I got to know Michael Scott in a time where I was far from where I am now. Much like him, I wasn’t sure of myself or where my life was going. As was he, I was painfully dumped a few times in my years of getting to know Michael. Through years of illness and confusion, I too wondered whether I was ever going to meet that special person and play ball with my child.
As crazy as it sounds, I believe Michael Scott helped me through some of the most trying times in my life. In times where I wasn’t even close to my own family or God, I turned to that character to laugh and be touched. Sometimes just being able to say "At least I'm not Michael Scott", was enough to pacify me.
When it boils down to it, Michael Scott was just a television character. He doesn’t exist; he isn’t real and he isn’t in Boulder, Colorado right now having his culmination of a life hoped for with his fiance.
So how then, tonight, in his last episode did this fictional character’s contentment actually touch me as I sat silent on my couch? In my life I have learned the things I appreciate most are those moments you feel warmth in your soul without a word coming out of your mouth. He didn't need to exist.
I cried tonight watching this fictionalized character ‘die off.’ I didn’t feel dumb about crying or as if I was losing perspective. I found myself legitimately moved by the fact I am going to miss that goofy clown. You can earnestly miss old homes, vacation spots, or sports stadiums that have since been torn down. Why not a television character?
After some selfish tears of sorrow I found myself once again merry realizing Michael was happy. I was moved by this creation because it epitomizes so much of what we all strive for. At the end of the day, we all just want to be happy.
In that way, the spirit of Michael Scott will live on in all of us who truly grew to love him. And his spirit is all we have left of him now. I suppose it's all we ever had.
I saw Michael Scott in a different perspective then most may have seen him. You might have seen him as a quirky, fun loving, goofy, asinine character on a television sitcom. When I really looked into his character though I found something in him that struck an esoteric nerve. He was zany and came off as a selfish, conceited imbecile because he was longing for happiness. He was often crass because he had internal anguishes of not having found true love and was simply acting out his hurts in a different avenue of expression. The creators turned him into a symbolic character that some people could relate to, whether it be at their current point in life or in a time gone by.
‘The Office’ is the only show I have watched every episode of week in and week out since ‘Seinfeld.’ With ‘Seinfeld’ I missed the first few years and never really felt drawn to a specific character. With Michael Scott I have experienced for the first time a friendship and dare I say love for a television character. The feelings are not reciprocated, and I don’t care. It doesn’t matter who or what it is, as long as it touches you on an emotionally profound level, it’s worth pouring something into.
For 7 years I watched this character yearn and suffer in an often subtle, fictionalized morphing. After all he was a mid 40 something American male who craved to be liked and longed for a family of his own. Who among us doesn’t want to be liked? Who doesn't want family to share life with?
He was teetering on the edge of tragic figure status in that he knew he was running out of time. Running out of time to play ball with his kids. Running out of time to grow old with his grand kids. He was a white collar employee with a seemingly good salary and stellar health. Yet this man was lost and lonely. It was somewhere around season 4 that it struck me that we were watching perhaps the most tragic figure in television history, masked under the guise of ridiculous humor.
The fact that his character was able to make me laugh like none other I’ve ever watched, in the midst of his search for his own personal holy grail was television genius. I always found myself rooting for him to finally find what he was looking for. But I never missed a chance to laugh at his expense either.
The 7 years I spent having the privilege of getting to know Michael Scott (Yes, I just typed that) were transcendent in my own personal life too. After a long, lonely night of gambling I would often pop in an episode of ‘The Office’ and bond with a character that was desolate in his own way.
I got to know Michael Scott in a time where I was far from where I am now. Much like him, I wasn’t sure of myself or where my life was going. As was he, I was painfully dumped a few times in my years of getting to know Michael. Through years of illness and confusion, I too wondered whether I was ever going to meet that special person and play ball with my child.
As crazy as it sounds, I believe Michael Scott helped me through some of the most trying times in my life. In times where I wasn’t even close to my own family or God, I turned to that character to laugh and be touched. Sometimes just being able to say "At least I'm not Michael Scott", was enough to pacify me.
When it boils down to it, Michael Scott was just a television character. He doesn’t exist; he isn’t real and he isn’t in Boulder, Colorado right now having his culmination of a life hoped for with his fiance.
So how then, tonight, in his last episode did this fictional character’s contentment actually touch me as I sat silent on my couch? In my life I have learned the things I appreciate most are those moments you feel warmth in your soul without a word coming out of your mouth. He didn't need to exist.
I cried tonight watching this fictionalized character ‘die off.’ I didn’t feel dumb about crying or as if I was losing perspective. I found myself legitimately moved by the fact I am going to miss that goofy clown. You can earnestly miss old homes, vacation spots, or sports stadiums that have since been torn down. Why not a television character?
After some selfish tears of sorrow I found myself once again merry realizing Michael was happy. I was moved by this creation because it epitomizes so much of what we all strive for. At the end of the day, we all just want to be happy.
In that way, the spirit of Michael Scott will live on in all of us who truly grew to love him. And his spirit is all we have left of him now. I suppose it's all we ever had.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
A Day At The Too Fast, Fast Food Place.
I know, I know. I shouldn't even be eating it. But this is not meant to be a 'Come to Jesus' moment. This is a rant about the all too hasty abruptness of a fast food drive thru. Wait a minute, isn't that the nature of the basis of your decision to go thru a drive thru? No. My reason for drive thru's is that I don't have to answer to anyone when my shoes don't match or my boxers are indeed my pants for the moment. Sure, I would like for my artery clogging food to be given to me in a timely fashion. But lately, in the past year I have noticed a difference in the M.O. of fast food drive thru's. They are too fast. Even Superman needs a second to regroup.
What do I mean? Well if you don't know then you are eating right, so kudos. Because if you have had any experience with drive thru's lately you will have noticed the following, no matter which one you go to: These people are trained to send both unspoken and spoken vibes about how fast they want you in and out of their line.
You pull up to the drive thru already knowing you shouldn't be there. Your stomach is begging you to turn around but your soul is desperate for an insta-fix. So you pull up to the public address system and before you can even come to a full stop, an automated voice asks you if you want the most obscure item on the menu for 30 cents less then it usually is. The voice comes across as friendly, in real time, and focused on your needs, but really its a pimply faced high schooler in Beverly Hills California, who recorded it during one of his 2,4 hour shifts back around St.Patrick's day.
So you tell this voice "No thanks," only to get to the real person. Then the aforementioned real person comes into your life telling you to go ahead with your order. They don't even tell you to wait until you're ready anymore. If I'm not ready I feel guilty and apologize that I'm not ready. Why am I apologizing? Because I'm trained to worry about the voice inside the box more then about ordering what will make me happy.
So I apologize. From the time you apologize a running clock in your head is counting down. You know that apology is only good for about 15 to 20 seconds. If you are still contemplative after that, you owe the box another apology, lest you offend it. Honestly I had a friend make me leave the drive thru a few months ago because when the girl asked how I was doing, I said "Sub-par." The Giants had just been eliminated from the playoff race and I was indeed "sub par." He thought I offended her and didn't trust our food would be safe in her hands. I can't even be myself to the drive thru lady? We worry more about offending the drive thru guy then offending our spouses.
Anyways, you sit there worried trying to decide what you want, and all this time there is another,more tangible and less paranoid "clock" that has begun. Now if you are leery of big brother, do not read the following few lines. I'm going to delve into the little known underbelly of the fast food world. A fact that since we all have discovered that their fast food is literally killing us, they have now put at the top of the list of things they don't want you to know about. One that will change your drive thru life forever.
What is the "clock", you ask? The clock is just that. It's a clock. It begins running the second you pull up to the speaker. Fast food eateries chart the time it takes you to first come up upon their den of intestinal dismay to the time you drive off flustered, fumbling your loose change, and wondering why your straw only has half the wrapper on it.
They have quotas to meet. Not on the quality of the food per say, but on the speediness of getting you in and out faster than you can say "give me the real beef."
A computer system takes tabs on the times of every drive thru, and regional fast food joints are compared and judged by 'corporate' based on the data. Managers put pressure on their minimum wage workers to 'get em' in and get em' out', because their job performance reviews depend on it. Isn't it comforting to know that your on the clock as you go thru a drive thru like you are the general manager of a pro sports team? "Why did I pick Ryan Leaf this early?" "Why did I draft Sam Bowie over Michael Jordan?" "Why did I order the 10 piece nuggets when the 6 piece would have sufficed?" America has demanded this. I remember when I used to say " This fast food is too slow,"as a naive youngster........ It's my fault. I created this monster.
How do I know this? Well I cant name names, but insert the scrambled faced girl here whose name is protected and is shaking as she speaks into the camera. That's how I know. But I don't really know. Because she didn't really "know." And you don't know either. Don't say I didn't warn you.
So now you know your simply a time piece to them. Just sand in a glass. But we are still only at the ordering stage. So after a third apology, we order.
"Ya can I get a number two please, but not before you tell me who number two works for?" "I'm sorry sir, did you want a number 12 you said?" " Close. I do need an even number, you are right. But your 10 numbers off." " OK sir so that's a number 10 with a Hi-C then. Drive up for your total." " No, not a number 10,that's the number I hear gave Chris Farley his baker's dozen heart attack in that one week. I need a number 2 and that reminds me, why aren't your toilets cleaned more often during rush hour as they are during down hours?" "Sir, can you drive up?" "Can you Super size me??" "I'm not familiar with that term,.. or that movie sir. Drive up."
You pull up to the first window. The first window is where you come across the most miserable worker there. And you can't blame her. She is the girl in the box, who doesn't see any of her other co-workers and has to touch dirty money and dirty hands all day. She is as happy to see your penny's as your large intestine is to see your chicken carcass's,err,nuggets.
So your total was $9.81 and you give her a 10 and say "I have change." So you start counting your loose change from the median "things" holder. You start with the quarters, then realize you have enough nickels and penny's and can save the quarters for laundry,which could come sooner then later if you don't count your change fast enough and your Hi-c lid is somehow "accidentally" loose around one inconspicuous edge. (I know circle's don't have edges, but bear with me)
So you count out your nickel's and penny's and your sweating your famished head off. Why? Because you look up somewhere around the fifty cent mark and realize the following: The first window girl has her hand out the window, although her head is looking the opposite way, presumably at her texting machine. But by now the second window has opened. And there is a head leering out of it like a giraffe at a zoo. You realize your food must be ready at the window ahead. How blessed are you that a fresh batch of nuggets must have just came out of the oven? But, How do you know your food must be ready? Because the "giraffe's" hand is now outside the window with a bag in it. Wait, is this guy really dangling my food and my Hi-C out of window two while I struggle at window one? You bet your bottom feeding dollar menu he is.
So you give the uninterested, yet aggravated first window girl the change and she gives you your dollar bill back. You tell her you don't need a receipt. They always get offended when you say you don't need the receipt. I'm not sure why but I'm sure it has to do with George Orwell's "clock," in some way. So then you try to put your dollar back in your wallet, which is now on the seat beside you, as you pull up to window number two to get your meal;which has now had enough fresh air to make an arborist jealous.
Before you know it, your at window two and your dollar is just not nestled to your liking in your wallet. So instead of grabbing your food and beverage, you tend to the wallet. Now this incenses the pimply faced high school football star; Only he doesn't say it, he vibes it. The crass fast food worker vibe is the harshest. You should have seen how unspokingly angry the kid got the other day when I asked him to skim some of the cool whip off the top of my milkshake because it was overflowing....Anyways, So you begin to feel unhealthy disdain for this high school senior. It's not his fault the clock is running, you tell yourself. Give him a break,grab the food. But then you smile as you remind yourself its not your fault either, and you continue putting your dollar in your wallet.
By now he has pulled your all to quickly made and delivered food back into his booth, as if to try to scare you into thinking he may have the power to just tell you, "No food for you." Your dollar is half in and half out of your wallet due to unceremoniously folding under the pressure of the drive thru; but you know you can't go back to the wallet a second time. You just can't. So you finally are ready to receive your bag of food. It will all be worth it when you're eating you're tasty nuggets and your parch squelching Hi-C.
The boy gives you your food and you ask if their are napkins in the bag. He says yes. You say, "Notice I used napkins in the plural tense." He hands you some napkins. Then he closes his window in such a way, as if you were the drunken neighbor who sat on the porch all nite talking to your friends in an unruly tone, and keeping his kids awake.
You drive off and head home to eat. The "clock" has stopped at forty two seconds above the quota median. You just cost some manager her bonus, and your license plate number is plastered to a bulletin board in their back room on post office poster paper. But at least you got your food. You remember as your driving off you forgot the straw, so you go to throw it in reverse but its too late. The clock has already gotten the next victim. The giraffe has moved on to the next car.
You go home to eat frazzled. You're sure you must have a straw laying around from a time they put 2 in your bag when you only ordered one drink...It's time to eat now. Put the all to fast fast food experience behind you for a few minutes.And, oh, ..Enjoy your fish-fillet and iced tea.
What do I mean? Well if you don't know then you are eating right, so kudos. Because if you have had any experience with drive thru's lately you will have noticed the following, no matter which one you go to: These people are trained to send both unspoken and spoken vibes about how fast they want you in and out of their line.
You pull up to the drive thru already knowing you shouldn't be there. Your stomach is begging you to turn around but your soul is desperate for an insta-fix. So you pull up to the public address system and before you can even come to a full stop, an automated voice asks you if you want the most obscure item on the menu for 30 cents less then it usually is. The voice comes across as friendly, in real time, and focused on your needs, but really its a pimply faced high schooler in Beverly Hills California, who recorded it during one of his 2,4 hour shifts back around St.Patrick's day.
So you tell this voice "No thanks," only to get to the real person. Then the aforementioned real person comes into your life telling you to go ahead with your order. They don't even tell you to wait until you're ready anymore. If I'm not ready I feel guilty and apologize that I'm not ready. Why am I apologizing? Because I'm trained to worry about the voice inside the box more then about ordering what will make me happy.
So I apologize. From the time you apologize a running clock in your head is counting down. You know that apology is only good for about 15 to 20 seconds. If you are still contemplative after that, you owe the box another apology, lest you offend it. Honestly I had a friend make me leave the drive thru a few months ago because when the girl asked how I was doing, I said "Sub-par." The Giants had just been eliminated from the playoff race and I was indeed "sub par." He thought I offended her and didn't trust our food would be safe in her hands. I can't even be myself to the drive thru lady? We worry more about offending the drive thru guy then offending our spouses.
Anyways, you sit there worried trying to decide what you want, and all this time there is another,more tangible and less paranoid "clock" that has begun. Now if you are leery of big brother, do not read the following few lines. I'm going to delve into the little known underbelly of the fast food world. A fact that since we all have discovered that their fast food is literally killing us, they have now put at the top of the list of things they don't want you to know about. One that will change your drive thru life forever.
What is the "clock", you ask? The clock is just that. It's a clock. It begins running the second you pull up to the speaker. Fast food eateries chart the time it takes you to first come up upon their den of intestinal dismay to the time you drive off flustered, fumbling your loose change, and wondering why your straw only has half the wrapper on it.
They have quotas to meet. Not on the quality of the food per say, but on the speediness of getting you in and out faster than you can say "give me the real beef."
A computer system takes tabs on the times of every drive thru, and regional fast food joints are compared and judged by 'corporate' based on the data. Managers put pressure on their minimum wage workers to 'get em' in and get em' out', because their job performance reviews depend on it. Isn't it comforting to know that your on the clock as you go thru a drive thru like you are the general manager of a pro sports team? "Why did I pick Ryan Leaf this early?" "Why did I draft Sam Bowie over Michael Jordan?" "Why did I order the 10 piece nuggets when the 6 piece would have sufficed?" America has demanded this. I remember when I used to say " This fast food is too slow,"as a naive youngster........ It's my fault. I created this monster.
How do I know this? Well I cant name names, but insert the scrambled faced girl here whose name is protected and is shaking as she speaks into the camera. That's how I know. But I don't really know. Because she didn't really "know." And you don't know either. Don't say I didn't warn you.
So now you know your simply a time piece to them. Just sand in a glass. But we are still only at the ordering stage. So after a third apology, we order.
"Ya can I get a number two please, but not before you tell me who number two works for?" "I'm sorry sir, did you want a number 12 you said?" " Close. I do need an even number, you are right. But your 10 numbers off." " OK sir so that's a number 10 with a Hi-C then. Drive up for your total." " No, not a number 10,that's the number I hear gave Chris Farley his baker's dozen heart attack in that one week. I need a number 2 and that reminds me, why aren't your toilets cleaned more often during rush hour as they are during down hours?" "Sir, can you drive up?" "Can you Super size me??" "I'm not familiar with that term,.. or that movie sir. Drive up."
You pull up to the first window. The first window is where you come across the most miserable worker there. And you can't blame her. She is the girl in the box, who doesn't see any of her other co-workers and has to touch dirty money and dirty hands all day. She is as happy to see your penny's as your large intestine is to see your chicken carcass's,err,nuggets.
So your total was $9.81 and you give her a 10 and say "I have change." So you start counting your loose change from the median "things" holder. You start with the quarters, then realize you have enough nickels and penny's and can save the quarters for laundry,which could come sooner then later if you don't count your change fast enough and your Hi-c lid is somehow "accidentally" loose around one inconspicuous edge. (I know circle's don't have edges, but bear with me)
So you count out your nickel's and penny's and your sweating your famished head off. Why? Because you look up somewhere around the fifty cent mark and realize the following: The first window girl has her hand out the window, although her head is looking the opposite way, presumably at her texting machine. But by now the second window has opened. And there is a head leering out of it like a giraffe at a zoo. You realize your food must be ready at the window ahead. How blessed are you that a fresh batch of nuggets must have just came out of the oven? But, How do you know your food must be ready? Because the "giraffe's" hand is now outside the window with a bag in it. Wait, is this guy really dangling my food and my Hi-C out of window two while I struggle at window one? You bet your bottom feeding dollar menu he is.
So you give the uninterested, yet aggravated first window girl the change and she gives you your dollar bill back. You tell her you don't need a receipt. They always get offended when you say you don't need the receipt. I'm not sure why but I'm sure it has to do with George Orwell's "clock," in some way. So then you try to put your dollar back in your wallet, which is now on the seat beside you, as you pull up to window number two to get your meal;which has now had enough fresh air to make an arborist jealous.
Before you know it, your at window two and your dollar is just not nestled to your liking in your wallet. So instead of grabbing your food and beverage, you tend to the wallet. Now this incenses the pimply faced high school football star; Only he doesn't say it, he vibes it. The crass fast food worker vibe is the harshest. You should have seen how unspokingly angry the kid got the other day when I asked him to skim some of the cool whip off the top of my milkshake because it was overflowing....Anyways, So you begin to feel unhealthy disdain for this high school senior. It's not his fault the clock is running, you tell yourself. Give him a break,grab the food. But then you smile as you remind yourself its not your fault either, and you continue putting your dollar in your wallet.
By now he has pulled your all to quickly made and delivered food back into his booth, as if to try to scare you into thinking he may have the power to just tell you, "No food for you." Your dollar is half in and half out of your wallet due to unceremoniously folding under the pressure of the drive thru; but you know you can't go back to the wallet a second time. You just can't. So you finally are ready to receive your bag of food. It will all be worth it when you're eating you're tasty nuggets and your parch squelching Hi-C.
The boy gives you your food and you ask if their are napkins in the bag. He says yes. You say, "Notice I used napkins in the plural tense." He hands you some napkins. Then he closes his window in such a way, as if you were the drunken neighbor who sat on the porch all nite talking to your friends in an unruly tone, and keeping his kids awake.
You drive off and head home to eat. The "clock" has stopped at forty two seconds above the quota median. You just cost some manager her bonus, and your license plate number is plastered to a bulletin board in their back room on post office poster paper. But at least you got your food. You remember as your driving off you forgot the straw, so you go to throw it in reverse but its too late. The clock has already gotten the next victim. The giraffe has moved on to the next car.
You go home to eat frazzled. You're sure you must have a straw laying around from a time they put 2 in your bag when you only ordered one drink...It's time to eat now. Put the all to fast fast food experience behind you for a few minutes.And, oh, ..Enjoy your fish-fillet and iced tea.
Monday, March 21, 2011
The First Person I saw Accept Christ in God's Miraculous Timing
In October of 2009 I was newly dedicated to Christ. I decided I was going to stop gambling and had been attending addictions classes for the past few weeks, when God put together his first fateful divine appointment in my life.
The story takes place on a Tuesday night, but the ball begins rolling for its apex on the preceding Friday. I had gone to Tc Hooligans with my sister and brother in law and paid with my debit card. Somehow the card was split in half. Whether or not that has anything to do with the fact the waitress never gave it back to me, I don't know.
Four days later, I found myself in the neighborhood of a girl whom had broken up with me a few days earlier. When I looked down her street , I saw her new boyfriends car in the driveway. The aggravation of this caused me to begin driving to the casino in Buffalo. I had been about three weeks or so "clean."
As I drove thru Greece on my way to Buffalo I had to pick up some cash to gamble with. I had a 3000 dollar check from a poker site and was going to cash it at my bank, Esl. Well, I couldn't find any Esl's in Greece but I did find an ATM machine. By now I was vascillating and could feel the spiritual warfare going on in this situation. I reached into my wallet and couldn't find my debit card anywhere. Then I remembered I must have left it at Hooligan's four days before. It's the first time I remember losing my debit card in a place other then the ATM machine.
So here was my problem: I couldn't gain any access to money to gamble with. I was a half hour from home and only had a few bucks in my pocket. At first I was angry in regards to my bad luck, but as I calmed down I knew it was not luck at all. God had started the ball rolling four days earlier, knowing I would be challenged to gamble on this day.
The story gets better. As I gripped reality I decided I wasn't going to go to the casino ( Doesn't sounds like I had much choice, does it?), but I would instead go to addictions counseling that night.
As I sat in group counseling, an African American man of about 45 years of age, began to share of his life as a drug addict. He shared a story of a time he died of carbon monoxide poisoning. Yes, died. He said he was pronounced dead and subsuquently revived. What he described he saw in his instance of death was daunting and haunting.
He said when he died he was taken to hell. He said he remembers the fires and the screams. He remembered seeing people in chains and cages yelling for help. His most succint description was of the heat of it all; the raw, molten, heat.
This man whose name I do not know, was revived and came back to earth. He said upon learning of hell's fury that he hoped to never go back there again.
After I listened to this story I remember God speaking to me so clearly. When God speaks you don't hear a voice audibly, but you hear a voice in your head that you know is not yours. You know its not yours because it is so peaceful and overcoming and seperate from your own day to day mindful conscience.
What God was saying to me was " This man just shared of hell and how awful it was, but ask him if he has accepted me as his God since then." So in front of about 10 people and upon Jesus's instruction, I said this. " Sir, I don't want to put you on the spot. But I think God wants me to ask you if you have done anything since that day to ensure you don't go back there upon your final death?"
The man said he had not. He said he was not worthy to be a christian because he had done bad things. He even said he was unworthy because he smoked.Imagine that;there are people out there who have not been ministered to properly enough that they actually believe cigarettes can seperate you from the God who made you.
We as a group explained to him that is exactly why he was worthy. We all have done bad things. We all our sinners. Thats why we need the Lord. We fall short without him.
This mystery man accepted the Lord that night. We all applauded and told him he will assuredly never have to experience that pain or that heat again. It was something so obvious to some of us; I mean be honest, if you went to hell and came back, wouldn't you make sure you never go back again?
This man hadn't dealt with it in the years since his experience. Maybe nobody ever told him how to get to heaven. Maybe the lies of unworthiness were so binding that he thought he deserved hell.
When I think of all that happened that week it was so clearly God. He allowed me to lose my debit card,and while upset about my personal life, allowed me to see him so clearly in my moment of weakness. All because he needed me at that meeting that night to hear from him, and to speak to a man who had literally been to hell and back. I'll never forget that divine day;One that would have led me to a casino without God's graceful intervention.
I'll also never forget that day because it was the first time God had given me the privilege to be used in bringing someone to Christ....And undisputably enough, God knew he needed me there that night specifically. ....After that Tuesday night in October of 2009, I never saw that mystery man again.....
The story takes place on a Tuesday night, but the ball begins rolling for its apex on the preceding Friday. I had gone to Tc Hooligans with my sister and brother in law and paid with my debit card. Somehow the card was split in half. Whether or not that has anything to do with the fact the waitress never gave it back to me, I don't know.
Four days later, I found myself in the neighborhood of a girl whom had broken up with me a few days earlier. When I looked down her street , I saw her new boyfriends car in the driveway. The aggravation of this caused me to begin driving to the casino in Buffalo. I had been about three weeks or so "clean."
As I drove thru Greece on my way to Buffalo I had to pick up some cash to gamble with. I had a 3000 dollar check from a poker site and was going to cash it at my bank, Esl. Well, I couldn't find any Esl's in Greece but I did find an ATM machine. By now I was vascillating and could feel the spiritual warfare going on in this situation. I reached into my wallet and couldn't find my debit card anywhere. Then I remembered I must have left it at Hooligan's four days before. It's the first time I remember losing my debit card in a place other then the ATM machine.
So here was my problem: I couldn't gain any access to money to gamble with. I was a half hour from home and only had a few bucks in my pocket. At first I was angry in regards to my bad luck, but as I calmed down I knew it was not luck at all. God had started the ball rolling four days earlier, knowing I would be challenged to gamble on this day.
The story gets better. As I gripped reality I decided I wasn't going to go to the casino ( Doesn't sounds like I had much choice, does it?), but I would instead go to addictions counseling that night.
As I sat in group counseling, an African American man of about 45 years of age, began to share of his life as a drug addict. He shared a story of a time he died of carbon monoxide poisoning. Yes, died. He said he was pronounced dead and subsuquently revived. What he described he saw in his instance of death was daunting and haunting.
He said when he died he was taken to hell. He said he remembers the fires and the screams. He remembered seeing people in chains and cages yelling for help. His most succint description was of the heat of it all; the raw, molten, heat.
This man whose name I do not know, was revived and came back to earth. He said upon learning of hell's fury that he hoped to never go back there again.
After I listened to this story I remember God speaking to me so clearly. When God speaks you don't hear a voice audibly, but you hear a voice in your head that you know is not yours. You know its not yours because it is so peaceful and overcoming and seperate from your own day to day mindful conscience.
What God was saying to me was " This man just shared of hell and how awful it was, but ask him if he has accepted me as his God since then." So in front of about 10 people and upon Jesus's instruction, I said this. " Sir, I don't want to put you on the spot. But I think God wants me to ask you if you have done anything since that day to ensure you don't go back there upon your final death?"
The man said he had not. He said he was not worthy to be a christian because he had done bad things. He even said he was unworthy because he smoked.Imagine that;there are people out there who have not been ministered to properly enough that they actually believe cigarettes can seperate you from the God who made you.
We as a group explained to him that is exactly why he was worthy. We all have done bad things. We all our sinners. Thats why we need the Lord. We fall short without him.
This mystery man accepted the Lord that night. We all applauded and told him he will assuredly never have to experience that pain or that heat again. It was something so obvious to some of us; I mean be honest, if you went to hell and came back, wouldn't you make sure you never go back again?
This man hadn't dealt with it in the years since his experience. Maybe nobody ever told him how to get to heaven. Maybe the lies of unworthiness were so binding that he thought he deserved hell.
When I think of all that happened that week it was so clearly God. He allowed me to lose my debit card,and while upset about my personal life, allowed me to see him so clearly in my moment of weakness. All because he needed me at that meeting that night to hear from him, and to speak to a man who had literally been to hell and back. I'll never forget that divine day;One that would have led me to a casino without God's graceful intervention.
I'll also never forget that day because it was the first time God had given me the privilege to be used in bringing someone to Christ....And undisputably enough, God knew he needed me there that night specifically. ....After that Tuesday night in October of 2009, I never saw that mystery man again.....
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Joe DiBella has a Nice New Girlfriend
Joe DiBella has a Nice New Girlfriend
By Joe DiBella
If you haven't read this blog yet, please do; as it is imperative to understanding the following blog. http://joeyd5641.blogspot.com/2010/12/one-about-gambling-problem-one-year-of.html
Some people say I read into things to much. Have they told me this to my face? Sometimes. Have I traced this in their face? Sometimes. But actually I believe I look into things just the right amount. Funny; You never hear anyone say that do you?... 'He looks into things just the right amount.' We as a society are ever skeptical. It's the ever skeptics in so many that keeps so many from religion. Because although everyone knows we must die on this earth, so many skeptically for whatever reason lose interest in what happens when we do so. How could there be a God, they ask? Nothing comes out of nothing. But with that very same thinking there is the thinking that if a higher power didn't pop out of nowhere, then somehow we did? Something had to come out of nothing. You can't dispute that. So instead of saying we popped out of nowhere, how about saying God popped out of nowhere, and defining "nowhere" as "always there."
See I look into things just the right amount. Which is always. When you ask God to write your life's story as I have the past year or so, you will always expect God to be the one outlining your life's details. And God is deft enough to write between the lines. Whereas I pray almost everyday that I am also deft enough to choose to read between his lines.
Alas, my point: I have a new girlfriend. But not any old girlfriend you see. I paid $59.95 for the privilege and unadulterated joy of meeting her. I signed up for E-harmony in November with the belief I would be meeting someone significant. Did I surprise you with that last comment? Is it because you expected me to say " I signed up for E-harmony without thinking it was going to amount to anything significant?" Well that would be the commonplace themed statement to make. But you must realize, as I said before, I look into things just the right amount.
So when my mom text me for the third or fourth time in a couple months time that she had seen a commercial stating "E-harmony has a free communication weekend coming up and you should try it out," I was able to quip back "I already signed up and paid, and maybe you should try it out and find us a sugar daddy."
I have prayed for over one year for God to protect me from the wrong relationships. I had already had a lifetimes worth of those. So over that time God had made me privy to spots and situations he didn't approve of through lack of peace or lack of sensibility in the situation. I prayed for doors he wanted to close to close, and strings he needed to pull to be pulled.
For the first few weeks of E-Harmony, I was finding they were trying to hook me up with (in my eyes only) fairly unattractive woman mostly in the Great Toronto area. My 'looking radius' was set at only 60 miles wide and long. But apparently no one told E-harmony the fast ferry was defunct as they must have expected me to get to these woman on the boat to make it to them in 60 miles distance.
It was late in November that I decided that I would expand my radius to 90 miles. It was right about then that a mystery woman in Liverpool was going to quit her E-harmony account due to insufficient return on investment. Luckily for all of us, her best friend talked her into signing up for one more go of it.
On November 28th I winked at Melissa Holden Kaltaler.(Remember that middle name for later). Winking is the online equivalent to walking up to someone in real life and saturating them with a corny pick up line. Much to my delight, she found my wink to be at the very least, somewhat charming, and winked back.
To make a long story short, over the past few months we have talked and gotten along swimmingly and recently decided we should embark on a more then friends relationship.(After all it wasn't "E-platonic friends.com" we had signed up for)
Last week I felt an insatiable urge to go back and look at the date of our first email to each other. I knew the significance of December 1st being the date I quit playing "Holdem'; and of course the gift the Lord had given me at midnight on my one year anniversary in the Water baptism certificate being found. (As you read in the blog link above.)
Well, not much to my surprise, the date of our first Email to each other was indeed December the 1st. My one year anniversary of being set free from the bondage of gambling. I had asked God to portray things as making sense, and to me introducing communication with such a lovely girl on my "Birthday" made allot of sense.
Am I reading into that one? That's a 1 in 365 shot and 1 in 366 shot every fourth year, that we would start communicating on that day. If I was a gambling man I would not bet on that being a coincidence.
Another interesting tidbit : Melissa's middle name is 'Holden.' So what', you say? Well it is one letter off of 'Holdem.' One letter off of the game that ensnared my joy and spirits for so many years. Sometimes one decision or one letter per say, is much more significant then the small numeric change we believe the number one represents. Let's look at the tally board, in sequential order of how symbolic I believe the number one has been in my life in the past 15 months.
Significance of the number one scoreboard:
1) One hope for freedom from addiction.
2) One one time payment to a dating site.
3) One year of freedom.
4) One miraculous birthday gift at midnight on my one year anniversary from God.
5) One email sent on my one year anniversary of not gambling.
6) One letter discrepancy in a middle name separating that very middle name from the vice that had and would have always kept me from God's Will for my life.
7) One God in the 'middle' of it all.
We will see what God has in store in the next few months in this relationship. I know I just want the one true God in the middle of its orchestration. I'm just glad to have a peace that passes understanding about where I have been brought in my life in all regards.
I hope you believe me, in that I was looking into what I just wrote the exact right amount. When you believe in the one and only saviour who died,rose, and made one route for you to live in eternal glory,the number one becomes extremely worthwhile.
One isn't the loneliest number, like the old song bemoans. When you believe in Jesus, and his perfect love and plans, one is the only number that adds up.
By Joe DiBella
If you haven't read this blog yet, please do; as it is imperative to understanding the following blog. http://joeyd5641.blogspot.com/2010/12/one-about-gambling-problem-one-year-of.html
Some people say I read into things to much. Have they told me this to my face? Sometimes. Have I traced this in their face? Sometimes. But actually I believe I look into things just the right amount. Funny; You never hear anyone say that do you?... 'He looks into things just the right amount.' We as a society are ever skeptical. It's the ever skeptics in so many that keeps so many from religion. Because although everyone knows we must die on this earth, so many skeptically for whatever reason lose interest in what happens when we do so. How could there be a God, they ask? Nothing comes out of nothing. But with that very same thinking there is the thinking that if a higher power didn't pop out of nowhere, then somehow we did? Something had to come out of nothing. You can't dispute that. So instead of saying we popped out of nowhere, how about saying God popped out of nowhere, and defining "nowhere" as "always there."
See I look into things just the right amount. Which is always. When you ask God to write your life's story as I have the past year or so, you will always expect God to be the one outlining your life's details. And God is deft enough to write between the lines. Whereas I pray almost everyday that I am also deft enough to choose to read between his lines.
Alas, my point: I have a new girlfriend. But not any old girlfriend you see. I paid $59.95 for the privilege and unadulterated joy of meeting her. I signed up for E-harmony in November with the belief I would be meeting someone significant. Did I surprise you with that last comment? Is it because you expected me to say " I signed up for E-harmony without thinking it was going to amount to anything significant?" Well that would be the commonplace themed statement to make. But you must realize, as I said before, I look into things just the right amount.
So when my mom text me for the third or fourth time in a couple months time that she had seen a commercial stating "E-harmony has a free communication weekend coming up and you should try it out," I was able to quip back "I already signed up and paid, and maybe you should try it out and find us a sugar daddy."
I have prayed for over one year for God to protect me from the wrong relationships. I had already had a lifetimes worth of those. So over that time God had made me privy to spots and situations he didn't approve of through lack of peace or lack of sensibility in the situation. I prayed for doors he wanted to close to close, and strings he needed to pull to be pulled.
For the first few weeks of E-Harmony, I was finding they were trying to hook me up with (in my eyes only) fairly unattractive woman mostly in the Great Toronto area. My 'looking radius' was set at only 60 miles wide and long. But apparently no one told E-harmony the fast ferry was defunct as they must have expected me to get to these woman on the boat to make it to them in 60 miles distance.
It was late in November that I decided that I would expand my radius to 90 miles. It was right about then that a mystery woman in Liverpool was going to quit her E-harmony account due to insufficient return on investment. Luckily for all of us, her best friend talked her into signing up for one more go of it.
On November 28th I winked at Melissa Holden Kaltaler.(Remember that middle name for later). Winking is the online equivalent to walking up to someone in real life and saturating them with a corny pick up line. Much to my delight, she found my wink to be at the very least, somewhat charming, and winked back.
To make a long story short, over the past few months we have talked and gotten along swimmingly and recently decided we should embark on a more then friends relationship.(After all it wasn't "E-platonic friends.com" we had signed up for)
Last week I felt an insatiable urge to go back and look at the date of our first email to each other. I knew the significance of December 1st being the date I quit playing "Holdem'; and of course the gift the Lord had given me at midnight on my one year anniversary in the Water baptism certificate being found. (As you read in the blog link above.)
Well, not much to my surprise, the date of our first Email to each other was indeed December the 1st. My one year anniversary of being set free from the bondage of gambling. I had asked God to portray things as making sense, and to me introducing communication with such a lovely girl on my "Birthday" made allot of sense.
Am I reading into that one? That's a 1 in 365 shot and 1 in 366 shot every fourth year, that we would start communicating on that day. If I was a gambling man I would not bet on that being a coincidence.
Another interesting tidbit : Melissa's middle name is 'Holden.' So what', you say? Well it is one letter off of 'Holdem.' One letter off of the game that ensnared my joy and spirits for so many years. Sometimes one decision or one letter per say, is much more significant then the small numeric change we believe the number one represents. Let's look at the tally board, in sequential order of how symbolic I believe the number one has been in my life in the past 15 months.
Significance of the number one scoreboard:
1) One hope for freedom from addiction.
2) One one time payment to a dating site.
3) One year of freedom.
4) One miraculous birthday gift at midnight on my one year anniversary from God.
5) One email sent on my one year anniversary of not gambling.
6) One letter discrepancy in a middle name separating that very middle name from the vice that had and would have always kept me from God's Will for my life.
7) One God in the 'middle' of it all.
We will see what God has in store in the next few months in this relationship. I know I just want the one true God in the middle of its orchestration. I'm just glad to have a peace that passes understanding about where I have been brought in my life in all regards.
I hope you believe me, in that I was looking into what I just wrote the exact right amount. When you believe in the one and only saviour who died,rose, and made one route for you to live in eternal glory,the number one becomes extremely worthwhile.
One isn't the loneliest number, like the old song bemoans. When you believe in Jesus, and his perfect love and plans, one is the only number that adds up.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
The One About The Gambling Problem: One Year of Freedom
How it all began
6 years ago I fell for something. I was the last of my friends to get into it,and I was the only one to get entrenched by it. In 2004 the poker boom took off amidst an average nobody amateur poker player named Chris Moneymaker winning the World Series of Poker main event and 6 million dollars. Suddenly teenage boys and grown men everywhere were playing no limit Texas hold em' with their friends, thanks to the 'everyman' hitting it rich in Vegas. Sure poker had always been a staple in some way. You always see it being played in the old westerns and sitcoms spanning back to the 1950's. The game was usually five card stud back then. But with Moneymaker winning the title in 2004, no limit hold em took off due to the TV coverage,the Internet accessibility,and the casino prevalence.
I had a few friends who started playing friendly five dollar games on Friday nights at their houses. I never wanted to play because I didn't want to learn how. It seemed complicated and I thought I would just be donating five dollars to the cause. I finally learned that If I wanted to do something on weekends, I better join in.
The first time I played I didn't know what I was doing. I kept winning hands just playing stupid and getting lucky. I had a cheat sheet that showed me the ranks of the hands that I had to check almost every hand.
At some point in the next few months I started playing online and depositing money. It started as 20 bucks. I remember the first time I lost 50 dollars online I was devastated. I said I was not going to do it again but a few days later I put in another 50. Somewhere around the summer of 2005, I started turning a slight profit. I would cash out a couple hundred bucks and leave a few dollars in my account to try to build it up again. Over the course of the next few years, what started as twenty dollar games turned into 50,100,200,300,500,and 1000 respectfully.
I became obsessed with the game. It was a game of math and Psyche. I would study everything and anything I could; On TV, in books, atonline forums. I was a student of the game in every measure. I would go to the casinos and everyone else at the table would be socializing and I would just be staring at them and listening. I never said a word. Any little tidbit I could pick up was going to mean profit. And every little moment I let my guard down to fraternize with my competitors could lead to hundreds or thousands of dollars lost.
By September of 2006 I was making enough money to only work part time. I worked two overnights a week and played poker as my main source of income. I kept strict records of wins and losses and paid my taxes. It was a business to me. Many days I would sit at my computer for 16 to 20 hours without even eating. I would go to bed and do it again the next day. I was ranked in the top half of the top one percent of all online players for short handed sit and go's in the world. I would pay 500 dollars, play one other guy who also put up 500, and play until one of us got all the chips and the thousand dollars. These games would take about 10 to 20 minutes. Since we were playing the highest stakes on the site at the time, people would "rail bird" our games and try to chat with us. I remember one person telling me that I was their hero and they had been watching me play for weeks. On one site,within their online community, I was very well known for dominating the 200 to 500 dollar heads up sit and go's.
But I was masking many things behind that computer screen. I was sick and very unhealthy. My mind was one tracked and I would often torture myself over decisions that cost me large sums of money. I was in fact, numb to money. I was numb to winning.
But you never,ever become numb to losing. When I lost it would feel like an avalanche pouring down on my head. The thrill of winning never compared to the pain of losing. The turn of one card would often decide thousand dollar pots. I believed I was trapped in the game because being sick and all, it seemed like the only way to make a legitimate living. Years went by of being anti-social, distant ,and addicted to a game that in my own mind validated my worth. I knew I was good at it. Others knew I was good at it. I was finding the answers to my worthiness through this game. Today I know who I am through God.
How it all ended
I started feeling God tug at my coattails about this when my girlfriend broke up with me because of the poker lifestyle, in February 2009. To this day I believe that relationship was sent as God's way of saving my life. It wasn't meant to last, but the lessons learned were meant to change eternity.
Over the course of the next few months, I battled to quit, but never achieved true victory. In July of 2009, I had an afternoon which went like this. Around noon I sat down at a table with 3000 dollars. By 3pm I had ran it up to over 14,000 dollars. By six pm, all 14,000 was gone. Between your lunch and your dinner, I had won and lost enough money to buy a brand new car. This was my tipping point. I knew I had to quit. And I knew God's grace was the only chance I had at achieving that goal. What I got a few months later was more then grace. It was a miracle.
The Miracle from Jesus
I was still gambling in September, when a friend of mine from work named Billy had became extremely distraught about a breakup between him and his longtime girlfriend. I remember he was very upset and one night was texting me that he didn't see any way out of the darkness. I felt God telling me to text him about God's love. It was very, very awkward because I had never spoken to him about God at all and I was coming out of left field with it. But I text him something along the lines of "There is hope with God" and he text me back " I can't see hope in anything right now, but thanks for trying." At least the ice had been broken and God's hand had began writing the script that would save both me and Billy's lives.
A few weeks later was a night I will never forget. Things hadn't gotten any better for Billy. It was a Thursday night and my phone rang. It was Billy. I was gambling online and when I gambled online I rarely would pick up the phone. So I ignored the call and didn't think of it again..... Until the next day.
I got a phone call from another co-worker saying Billy was missing. To make a long story short, he ended up ingesting a massive amount of pills and alcohol that night in a suicide attempt. With the amount he took, for all intensive purposes, he should have died.
When I got wind of this I was shook to the core. A few weeks later when I saw him I asked him why he called me that night. We hadn't been particularly close at that point and for a few weeks I wondered If it was possible he was crying out for help to me for some reason. He told me that he didn't know why he had called me and that I was indeed the last person he thinks he tried to call. It bowled me over and instantly made complete and utter sense what God was doing.
He was using my gambling and the selfishness it had led to,to wake me up. I had laid the foundation in a struggling man's life of the love of God, and when the same man reached out to me only weeks later, I ignored him for poker. Sure I had no way of knowing that at the time. But God knew I wouldn't know until I needed to know. God knew exactly what he was doing moment by moment leading up to that night.
I confessed to Billy that I ignored his call that night because I was in a poker trance. I told him how guilty I feel and how guilty I would have felt had he died and I was the last person he had tried to, and unsuccessfully contact. As I apologized to him I knew what had to be done. A few days later I quit gambling.
And on the 40th day.....
When the previously mentioned ex girlfriend broke up with me she asked me if I would quit playing poker for 40 days and see what God would show me. I snickered at the notion when she told me this. But eight months later on the 40th day of not gambling there was a small electrical fire at the group home where me and Billy worked. When the smoke alarms went off one of the clients, who usually will get up and go on command, decided that she wanted to stay in bed. So she layed in bed as the fire was put out. The overnight was usually a one staff operation and had it been a bigger fire there would have been no way to get the client out with just one person. So management decided for the next month to have 2 staff on the overnights to carry her out in case of a fire. Why they did this only for a month and why not permanently I'll never know. Well actually yes I do know. It was all God.
During that month, Billy and I worked together many times on the overnight. Just me and him. We got time together to talk and God gave me words to say to him. He allowed me to tell him the way to heaven, which is acceptance of Jesus Christ as his saviour. I had been giving a laminated print out of the Roman's Road, from a Pastor that I sought out a few months before to help me stop gambling. The Roman's road is a point by point biblical reference of why we have fallen short of heaven without Jesus, and how simple the prayer is to gain eternal glory's access. One night on the overnight I gave Billy the print out and asked him if he was ready to pray Jesus into his heart and seal his destiny. He wasn't at that particular time but said he would take it home with him. I joked that If he didn't pray it soon I was going to be extremely mad at him. He joked back that it sounded like I might blow up his car.
The next day I woke up to the most significant text message I have ever received. It simply said " I prayed it. Don't blow up my car." The man who should have been dead without ever knowing God in September, was now alive and forever stamped in the book of life in November.
God's stories are perfect. This story is perfect. He needed my attention. He needed me to stop gambling because he had things he needed me to do. His timing was perfect. He wasn't going to let Billy die that night. He knew I wouldn't have been able to live with myself. And he knew Billy was meant to be a child of his. Only God can tie this type of story together. "Quit for 40 days and see what God will do." Satan is the only one snickering now.
Since he got saved Billy has been baptized and recently married the love of his life, whom he had been so broken hearted about losing last year. She is also a born again christian. Another example of God working. That relationship had to end temporarily, so that Billy and I could be saved.
The Sovereignty of December 1st
You may have figured out by now that these stories of quitting occurred between September and November and you may be wondering what makes December 1st the one year anniversary. Well I slipped up after 2 months and played once on December 1st, 2009, online. On that day I took my computer and plucked it out per say. I brought it to my sisters and told her I don't want a computer in my house anymore.
Last night on the eve of my one year anniversary I decided I wanted my computer back (without Internet), so I could type out my blogs and save them to flash drive. I was setting my computer up a little before midnight and it wouldn't work. So I pulled down an old shoebox from the top of my fridge to try to look for the re-boot disc. In a shoebox full of papers, the first thing I saw and grabbed was a small envelope. I pulled out what was inside and it was a sheet of paper torn in 3 pieces. Those 3 pieces of paper were my certificate of water baptism at my church in 2008. It had my name on it and a seal of approval with the date and a scripture verse. It's funny because In the Romans Road it says that after you get saved you should do 2 things. 1) Tell a friend. 2) Get water baptized. Billy told me he was saved, and got water baptized a few months later..... All the while I had no recollection that I had destroyed my symbol of water baptism over a poker game.
I realized as I pulled out the 3 sheets of ripped paper that I had torn it off my wall and ripped it up after an online poker loss a year or two ago. I decided to tape it back together and as I finished taping it, it hit me. I grabbed my phone to look at the time and it read, December 1st,2010: 12:05am. The time between finding it and taping it back together took about 5 minutes.
At exactly midnight on the one year anniversary of obeying God and giving up gambling, the Lord helped me find the remnants of a night of gamblings angst; and put it back together. All while trying to hook up a computer that I yanked out as a symbol of hope a year ago. Three pieces of paper torn; The Father,The Son, and The Holy Spirit. I had ripped them apart and made something else my God. And now they hang on my wall as one again. I knew that was a gift from God in that moment. His way of saying "One year Joe. One year. Do you see now how much I love you? I couldn't even wait one minute past midnight to say Happy Birthday to you. I am so proud of you." All I know is this; When God says I am proud of you so profoundly, it is a slice of heaven on earth.
For non-believers it is so easy to say that there is no proof of God and that they just can't wrap their heads around something that isn't tangible. I don't know why God has blessed me so much to ensure that I can't doubt his existence,but I am thankful. Some may think my stories and the stories above are coincidence. But knowing what God has done and how real he has shown himself to me causes me to implore any unsaved who are reading this to believe me. This is not coincidence. We are not coincidence. There are so many ways to die, but there is only one way to live after we die. Jesus is the only way to heaven. If you want to join me and Billy one day with the Lord, please pray this prayer. It's no strings attached, and it doesn't require an audience. It's not religion. Does the love I describe above sound like ritual or does it sound like love?
A year later I am a free man. I have seen 7 people come to Christ. I want 8. Satan tried to devour me through gambling and sickness. God had other plan's. Pray this prayer from the Roman's road and check out the link. I wouldn't want to have to blow up your car.....
I want to thank Jim Carpenter,Dan Wallace,my Sister,my Brother and my Mother for helping me thru the gambling years and believing I could do this the past year. I'll never forget non-chalantly showing off and blowing a hundred dollars on one spin of a roulette wheel when Jim came to visit me at the casino once and me saying " Ah well" and him quipping back, " Next time just hand it to me. My kids need clothes."
And all my mom's words of hope that I would quit one day, even as I was setting up her 600 dollar, 32 inch TV as her Christmas gift one year. I couldn't have gotten thru it without you five guys love. Here is that Roman's prayer..a link to a great song of hope and a picture of part of the taped together certificate from last night. God Bless.
"Dear God, I confess that I am a sinner, and I am sorry. I need
a Savior. I know I cannot save myself. I believe by faith that Jesus, your
Son, died on the cross to be my Savior. I believe He arose from the grave
to live as my Lord. I turn from my sin. I ask You, Lord Jesus, to forgive my
sin and come into my heart. I trust you as my Savior and receive you as
my Lord. Thank you, Jesus, for saving me."
Link to full Roman's Road page : http://theromanroad.org/
Link to a beautiful song of hope. I think the link only opens in full screen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYW3eT0RZ9Y&feature=related
Taped together Scripture on certificate of water baptism: https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=743296c1e7&view=att&th=12ca3fc85ef80388&attid=0.0&disp=inline&zw
6 years ago I fell for something. I was the last of my friends to get into it,and I was the only one to get entrenched by it. In 2004 the poker boom took off amidst an average nobody amateur poker player named Chris Moneymaker winning the World Series of Poker main event and 6 million dollars. Suddenly teenage boys and grown men everywhere were playing no limit Texas hold em' with their friends, thanks to the 'everyman' hitting it rich in Vegas. Sure poker had always been a staple in some way. You always see it being played in the old westerns and sitcoms spanning back to the 1950's. The game was usually five card stud back then. But with Moneymaker winning the title in 2004, no limit hold em took off due to the TV coverage,the Internet accessibility,and the casino prevalence.
I had a few friends who started playing friendly five dollar games on Friday nights at their houses. I never wanted to play because I didn't want to learn how. It seemed complicated and I thought I would just be donating five dollars to the cause. I finally learned that If I wanted to do something on weekends, I better join in.
The first time I played I didn't know what I was doing. I kept winning hands just playing stupid and getting lucky. I had a cheat sheet that showed me the ranks of the hands that I had to check almost every hand.
At some point in the next few months I started playing online and depositing money. It started as 20 bucks. I remember the first time I lost 50 dollars online I was devastated. I said I was not going to do it again but a few days later I put in another 50. Somewhere around the summer of 2005, I started turning a slight profit. I would cash out a couple hundred bucks and leave a few dollars in my account to try to build it up again. Over the course of the next few years, what started as twenty dollar games turned into 50,100,200,300,500,and 1000 respectfully.
I became obsessed with the game. It was a game of math and Psyche. I would study everything and anything I could; On TV, in books, atonline forums. I was a student of the game in every measure. I would go to the casinos and everyone else at the table would be socializing and I would just be staring at them and listening. I never said a word. Any little tidbit I could pick up was going to mean profit. And every little moment I let my guard down to fraternize with my competitors could lead to hundreds or thousands of dollars lost.
By September of 2006 I was making enough money to only work part time. I worked two overnights a week and played poker as my main source of income. I kept strict records of wins and losses and paid my taxes. It was a business to me. Many days I would sit at my computer for 16 to 20 hours without even eating. I would go to bed and do it again the next day. I was ranked in the top half of the top one percent of all online players for short handed sit and go's in the world. I would pay 500 dollars, play one other guy who also put up 500, and play until one of us got all the chips and the thousand dollars. These games would take about 10 to 20 minutes. Since we were playing the highest stakes on the site at the time, people would "rail bird" our games and try to chat with us. I remember one person telling me that I was their hero and they had been watching me play for weeks. On one site,within their online community, I was very well known for dominating the 200 to 500 dollar heads up sit and go's.
But I was masking many things behind that computer screen. I was sick and very unhealthy. My mind was one tracked and I would often torture myself over decisions that cost me large sums of money. I was in fact, numb to money. I was numb to winning.
But you never,ever become numb to losing. When I lost it would feel like an avalanche pouring down on my head. The thrill of winning never compared to the pain of losing. The turn of one card would often decide thousand dollar pots. I believed I was trapped in the game because being sick and all, it seemed like the only way to make a legitimate living. Years went by of being anti-social, distant ,and addicted to a game that in my own mind validated my worth. I knew I was good at it. Others knew I was good at it. I was finding the answers to my worthiness through this game. Today I know who I am through God.
How it all ended
I started feeling God tug at my coattails about this when my girlfriend broke up with me because of the poker lifestyle, in February 2009. To this day I believe that relationship was sent as God's way of saving my life. It wasn't meant to last, but the lessons learned were meant to change eternity.
Over the course of the next few months, I battled to quit, but never achieved true victory. In July of 2009, I had an afternoon which went like this. Around noon I sat down at a table with 3000 dollars. By 3pm I had ran it up to over 14,000 dollars. By six pm, all 14,000 was gone. Between your lunch and your dinner, I had won and lost enough money to buy a brand new car. This was my tipping point. I knew I had to quit. And I knew God's grace was the only chance I had at achieving that goal. What I got a few months later was more then grace. It was a miracle.
The Miracle from Jesus
I was still gambling in September, when a friend of mine from work named Billy had became extremely distraught about a breakup between him and his longtime girlfriend. I remember he was very upset and one night was texting me that he didn't see any way out of the darkness. I felt God telling me to text him about God's love. It was very, very awkward because I had never spoken to him about God at all and I was coming out of left field with it. But I text him something along the lines of "There is hope with God" and he text me back " I can't see hope in anything right now, but thanks for trying." At least the ice had been broken and God's hand had began writing the script that would save both me and Billy's lives.
A few weeks later was a night I will never forget. Things hadn't gotten any better for Billy. It was a Thursday night and my phone rang. It was Billy. I was gambling online and when I gambled online I rarely would pick up the phone. So I ignored the call and didn't think of it again..... Until the next day.
I got a phone call from another co-worker saying Billy was missing. To make a long story short, he ended up ingesting a massive amount of pills and alcohol that night in a suicide attempt. With the amount he took, for all intensive purposes, he should have died.
When I got wind of this I was shook to the core. A few weeks later when I saw him I asked him why he called me that night. We hadn't been particularly close at that point and for a few weeks I wondered If it was possible he was crying out for help to me for some reason. He told me that he didn't know why he had called me and that I was indeed the last person he thinks he tried to call. It bowled me over and instantly made complete and utter sense what God was doing.
He was using my gambling and the selfishness it had led to,to wake me up. I had laid the foundation in a struggling man's life of the love of God, and when the same man reached out to me only weeks later, I ignored him for poker. Sure I had no way of knowing that at the time. But God knew I wouldn't know until I needed to know. God knew exactly what he was doing moment by moment leading up to that night.
I confessed to Billy that I ignored his call that night because I was in a poker trance. I told him how guilty I feel and how guilty I would have felt had he died and I was the last person he had tried to, and unsuccessfully contact. As I apologized to him I knew what had to be done. A few days later I quit gambling.
And on the 40th day.....
When the previously mentioned ex girlfriend broke up with me she asked me if I would quit playing poker for 40 days and see what God would show me. I snickered at the notion when she told me this. But eight months later on the 40th day of not gambling there was a small electrical fire at the group home where me and Billy worked. When the smoke alarms went off one of the clients, who usually will get up and go on command, decided that she wanted to stay in bed. So she layed in bed as the fire was put out. The overnight was usually a one staff operation and had it been a bigger fire there would have been no way to get the client out with just one person. So management decided for the next month to have 2 staff on the overnights to carry her out in case of a fire. Why they did this only for a month and why not permanently I'll never know. Well actually yes I do know. It was all God.
During that month, Billy and I worked together many times on the overnight. Just me and him. We got time together to talk and God gave me words to say to him. He allowed me to tell him the way to heaven, which is acceptance of Jesus Christ as his saviour. I had been giving a laminated print out of the Roman's Road, from a Pastor that I sought out a few months before to help me stop gambling. The Roman's road is a point by point biblical reference of why we have fallen short of heaven without Jesus, and how simple the prayer is to gain eternal glory's access. One night on the overnight I gave Billy the print out and asked him if he was ready to pray Jesus into his heart and seal his destiny. He wasn't at that particular time but said he would take it home with him. I joked that If he didn't pray it soon I was going to be extremely mad at him. He joked back that it sounded like I might blow up his car.
The next day I woke up to the most significant text message I have ever received. It simply said " I prayed it. Don't blow up my car." The man who should have been dead without ever knowing God in September, was now alive and forever stamped in the book of life in November.
God's stories are perfect. This story is perfect. He needed my attention. He needed me to stop gambling because he had things he needed me to do. His timing was perfect. He wasn't going to let Billy die that night. He knew I wouldn't have been able to live with myself. And he knew Billy was meant to be a child of his. Only God can tie this type of story together. "Quit for 40 days and see what God will do." Satan is the only one snickering now.
Since he got saved Billy has been baptized and recently married the love of his life, whom he had been so broken hearted about losing last year. She is also a born again christian. Another example of God working. That relationship had to end temporarily, so that Billy and I could be saved.
The Sovereignty of December 1st
You may have figured out by now that these stories of quitting occurred between September and November and you may be wondering what makes December 1st the one year anniversary. Well I slipped up after 2 months and played once on December 1st, 2009, online. On that day I took my computer and plucked it out per say. I brought it to my sisters and told her I don't want a computer in my house anymore.
Last night on the eve of my one year anniversary I decided I wanted my computer back (without Internet), so I could type out my blogs and save them to flash drive. I was setting my computer up a little before midnight and it wouldn't work. So I pulled down an old shoebox from the top of my fridge to try to look for the re-boot disc. In a shoebox full of papers, the first thing I saw and grabbed was a small envelope. I pulled out what was inside and it was a sheet of paper torn in 3 pieces. Those 3 pieces of paper were my certificate of water baptism at my church in 2008. It had my name on it and a seal of approval with the date and a scripture verse. It's funny because In the Romans Road it says that after you get saved you should do 2 things. 1) Tell a friend. 2) Get water baptized. Billy told me he was saved, and got water baptized a few months later..... All the while I had no recollection that I had destroyed my symbol of water baptism over a poker game.
I realized as I pulled out the 3 sheets of ripped paper that I had torn it off my wall and ripped it up after an online poker loss a year or two ago. I decided to tape it back together and as I finished taping it, it hit me. I grabbed my phone to look at the time and it read, December 1st,2010: 12:05am. The time between finding it and taping it back together took about 5 minutes.
At exactly midnight on the one year anniversary of obeying God and giving up gambling, the Lord helped me find the remnants of a night of gamblings angst; and put it back together. All while trying to hook up a computer that I yanked out as a symbol of hope a year ago. Three pieces of paper torn; The Father,The Son, and The Holy Spirit. I had ripped them apart and made something else my God. And now they hang on my wall as one again. I knew that was a gift from God in that moment. His way of saying "One year Joe. One year. Do you see now how much I love you? I couldn't even wait one minute past midnight to say Happy Birthday to you. I am so proud of you." All I know is this; When God says I am proud of you so profoundly, it is a slice of heaven on earth.
For non-believers it is so easy to say that there is no proof of God and that they just can't wrap their heads around something that isn't tangible. I don't know why God has blessed me so much to ensure that I can't doubt his existence,but I am thankful. Some may think my stories and the stories above are coincidence. But knowing what God has done and how real he has shown himself to me causes me to implore any unsaved who are reading this to believe me. This is not coincidence. We are not coincidence. There are so many ways to die, but there is only one way to live after we die. Jesus is the only way to heaven. If you want to join me and Billy one day with the Lord, please pray this prayer. It's no strings attached, and it doesn't require an audience. It's not religion. Does the love I describe above sound like ritual or does it sound like love?
A year later I am a free man. I have seen 7 people come to Christ. I want 8. Satan tried to devour me through gambling and sickness. God had other plan's. Pray this prayer from the Roman's road and check out the link. I wouldn't want to have to blow up your car.....
I want to thank Jim Carpenter,Dan Wallace,my Sister,my Brother and my Mother for helping me thru the gambling years and believing I could do this the past year. I'll never forget non-chalantly showing off and blowing a hundred dollars on one spin of a roulette wheel when Jim came to visit me at the casino once and me saying " Ah well" and him quipping back, " Next time just hand it to me. My kids need clothes."
And all my mom's words of hope that I would quit one day, even as I was setting up her 600 dollar, 32 inch TV as her Christmas gift one year. I couldn't have gotten thru it without you five guys love. Here is that Roman's prayer..a link to a great song of hope and a picture of part of the taped together certificate from last night. God Bless.
"Dear God, I confess that I am a sinner, and I am sorry. I need
a Savior. I know I cannot save myself. I believe by faith that Jesus, your
Son, died on the cross to be my Savior. I believe He arose from the grave
to live as my Lord. I turn from my sin. I ask You, Lord Jesus, to forgive my
sin and come into my heart. I trust you as my Savior and receive you as
my Lord. Thank you, Jesus, for saving me."
Link to full Roman's Road page : http://theromanroad.org/
Link to a beautiful song of hope. I think the link only opens in full screen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYW3eT0RZ9Y&feature=related
Taped together Scripture on certificate of water baptism: https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=743296c1e7&view=att&th=12ca3fc85ef80388&attid=0.0&disp=inline&zw
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