Stryper, a Motorcycle, God and me

Disclaimer:  What you are about to read is written to express the feelings that I have experienced. My intention is in no way meant to offend anyone that may have been evolved in any of the events I describe, only how those events played a role in my story. Thank you for your understanding. 

The spiritual journey I am on is different than I have ever experienced before. I am a Christian who has lost his way, or maybe I should say lost my focus on the “The Way” Jesus Christ. In all my years of following Jesus I have never found it so difficult to rededicate my life to God as I have been finding it over the past year. There has been a tug-of-war going on in my heart that has seen some success, but seen more defeat. It has left me in a deep depression that made me just want to walk away from God all together. That thought has sent me further into that dark hole. I have recently spent over nine years of my life serving God in a ministry out of love and gratitude for the love and grace He has shown me throughout my life, and now I have felt like walking away from it all. Loving God is who I am. So I have been asking myself how I can possibly walk away, but I have been, and that has only deepened the depression. In the past in seem that simple prayers would draw me close and in what seems a matter of days or less I was right back in God’s presence. That has not been my experience this time and ultimately maybe the reason I have felt so utterly lost.

To better understand, let me roll back the clock to a long way. I am not sure of this but October 10, 1980 sticks out in my head. I accepted Christ during an altar call and while I genuinely meant it, at such a young age I certainly did not fully understand the commitment. And so began the cycle of loving God but walking away to sin only to return full of guilt, and back to loving God again for the grace he has shown me.

Fast forward to 1997, I am married and currently in a very selfish time in my life, spending by far the longest time ever away from the God I gave my life to so many years ago. I won’t go into much detail about this time in my life, as I have told the story many times and God rescued me from it. It is not the story I am telling now. All you need to know is that pornography and a betrayal of my loving wife Jackie nearly ruined my marriage, but it also woke me up to the realization that I was walking down a road I never wanted to be on. And that put me at the door of Central Christian Church in Mesa, AZ.

Ashamed of my actions I started attending Central Christian Church because it was big and I thought I could hide. I was wrong, and I am glad for it. Central helped me get my life back together. And over the next couple of years my whole family became believers, my wife accepted Christ in my arms, and my son asked me to baptize him. God made a huge impact on my family and in my heart through Central Christian Church. Because of that the church will always hold a special place in my heart, even if the church also became a source of deep sorrow. I’ll get to that later, but for now let’s move on to Amor.

Central Christian Church introduced me to Amor Ministries through a mission trip to Cancun, Mexico. I know, “Cancun. must be nice?” It is if you stay in the tourist areas. We did not. We went to a neighborhood and built a house for a man and his wife who made about a dollar a day at one of the car rental agencies. I was beside myself. All my dreams became so unimportant there was such poverty and I found a way I could help. So I went on another trip and in the summer of 2002 I started working full time with Amor Ministries. That brought me to El Paso, Texas to work in the border town of Juarez, Mexico.  Despite the many difficulties it was the best time of my life. God blessed us so much through Amor. There are so many great stories to tell from that time, but that also is not this story. Just know that Amor ministries will also hold a special place in my heart, even if I harbor some resentment towards the ministry.

2008 brought on a slew of troubles to Mexico and especially Juarez. The swine flu was in full swing and the cartels began a war over drug trafficking routes and a crack down from the government that would only intensify over the next couple of years. I should mention that I had accepted the role as the Juarez field manager, a decision I would live to regret. I never felt as though I was right for the job despite the constant encouragement from my supervisors. I only took the position because people kept asking me why I didn’t apply for it and I eventually took all of that as a sign that God must be opening the door for me, so I felt obligated to step through it. Looking back on it now I never heard from God Himself on the subject. Never the less, I became the manager. Dan, the person who replaced me in the field only stayed with us for about a year. I feel somewhat responsible for that as I never fully let go of the field work and when I was out in the field I found myself doing the work that he should be doing. On more than one occasion it led to small conflicts with the groups that came to work with us (mostly about the method of getting a job done, both our methods were fine they were just deferent). Hindsight would suggest that there were other things festering that may have aided in his decision to leave. Things I was blind to, but see oh so clearly now.

 It is funny how hindsight brings the whole picture together and then heaps on the guilt for not seeing it sooner. There were two Mexican national employees that I supervised and had worked with since my first day on the job, Alonso and Alfredo. I came to love these men as my own family and that may be what blinded me. I had begun to notice that Alonso had begun to distance himself from us but I attributed this to some troubles he and his wife had been going through. Alonso was a great guy and we were good friends and I believe I let that friendship blind me. Dan had come to me before he left the ministry relating a conversation he and Alonso had about a car Alonso was thinking about buying; apparently it was a great buy at an unbelievable price. Dan told him it was probably stolen and that he should be careful. Now I may be reading into this because I can look back at it as a red flag that I should have caught but didn’t, but it seemed like Dan thought Alonso was looking for affirmation to buy the car even though it was an underhanded deal. I thought he was just being curious or hopeful. Shortly after Dan left the ministry Alfredo came to me with a confession that took me by complete surprise and completely destroyed anything that was left of that family feeling we had as a team.

We had just bought a new campsite as the one we were renting was being sold. The ministry at the time was in a position to buy land for the first time. Alonso did most of the work with finding vendors for most of our materials and he was the one who found the land. But there was much work to be done and we needed to hire a contractor to clear the land and put up a fence. I was looking for a way to give more responsibility to Alfredo because he had proved to be such a good worker. So, I tasked both Alonso and Alfredo to find different contractors so we would get the best price. Little did I know that a conflict was brewing between Alfredo and Alonso. This job, while Alfredo did great at it, heaped guilt upon him and much pressure from Alonso.

Apparently it is a common practice in Mexico to get a little extra on the side from your employer by having a vendor quote a higher price for material than the actual cost and then splitting the difference with the vendor. Alfredo came to me and told me that Alonso had been doing this for a while. The previous Christmas Alonso pushed Alfredo to join him in the theft which he did. But the guilt ate away at Alfredo and he told Alonso that he would no longer do it and that Alonso needed to stop. So, when Alonso and Alfredo were turning in their quotes for the work we needed done at camp Alonso saw this as a big payday and was really putting the pressure on Alfredo to go with his guy. But Alfredo did not and as a result turned in much lower quotes. Alfredo could no longer take the pressure Alonso was putting on him and he came to me knowing full well he may lose his job. He confessed all of this. And it became apparent that we were going to have to let Alonso go, I was tasked with gathering evidence that Alonso was stealing and it did not take long. We let him go.

During this time the violence from the drug cartels really started picking up and many groups stopped coming. We did not replace Alonso as a result and I started covering the field and office work. Alfredo took over all the responsibilities that Alonso once held with the one exception that I handled the money at least until trust was established again. But layoffs were coming and it seemed that Alfredo was being looked at as one to let go. This is one of the few times I feel I did the right thing as a manger. I fought to keep Alfredo and we did. The day of his confession I got to see into his heart, and despite his mistake he loves God and the ministry. He is still there to this day.

While I was working with a group that had come despite the violence, we witnessed a shooting that would be the beginning of the end of groups coming to Juarez at least for the foreseeable future.

Two months after we released Alonso he was dead. He and another man were shot and killed at a gas station while he was filling the tank of his car. I can’t help but think that if I had just seen any of this sooner my friend would still be alive. I carry a tremendous amount of guilt over how I “managed” Alonso and even more over how I handled our friendship.

As the groups continued to cancel trips I was given the responsibility of covering two other fields as more groups felt safer going to them. One was Puerto Peñasco, Mexico (Rocky Point) and the other was the San Carlos Apache Reservation in Arizona. I began to drive back and forth which began to take a toll.

A shooting in Juarez very close to our camp coupled with a shooting that evolved members of the American consulate. Prompted us to evacuate the last groups I would ever work with in Juarez.

My focus quickly became the San Carlos Apache Reservation in Arizona. We had only just started to work there and we had to come up with a completely different project than what we did in Mexico. I had to become a well rounded contractor, plumber and electrician. None of which I knew. Oh and much of the time a one man delivery man for all supplies and materials. That is not to say I did this on my own many people would come to help for the week or two when we would have groups and there was Forrest, he and I kind-of tag teamed on the work, him from San Diego and me from El Paso. The long distance managing was not working and I was missing my family. So we moved to Arizona hoping that being close would help. It was a move that would only last 8 months. Things only got worse. I spent more time there trying to learn all the ins and outs of the house so that I could teach my leaders when they arrived so they could instruct their groups, only to do it all over again with the next group for helpers. Then they would pack up and leave and I was left to pick up the pieces and to start learning that next piece of the puzzle so I could teach it to the next group of helpers. It seemed like the learning curve was so high that we would never get everyone one the same page, and at least for my time there that would turn out to be true. I felt hung out to dry, and when I would say something it felt to me as though it was taken as me accusing the ministry of wrong doing, but in actuality, I was just asking for help.

Help did finally come. But it came in the form of throwing out everything I had learned and being told to do it a completely new way, which still had many of the same challenges, with the added benefit of feeling like you have just been told that everything you did up to this point was worthless. To be fair no one said that but it made me feel that way. We still had to finish the ones we had already started, so now there were two types of houses I had to know how to build.

On top of the logistical challenges, I had to deal with a culture I did not understand, one that does not trust outsiders. I managed to find help one afternoon to deliver eight houses worth of sheet rock. After getting the truck driver to all the sites we had to move it inside because of theft and the threat of rain. My helper was and older man named Elmer. We came to the last house with our backs aching. This house was being built for a young man. He was there when we arrived and I thought surely he’d be happy to help. We are building him a home after all. He said no. I wanted to quit right then and there. But I didn’t Elmer and I put it away. I also had my life threatened and I believe the threat was real. That never happened to me in Mexico. I was coming to the end of my rope. But there was more that was beating me down and this is where Central Christian Church comes back into the picture.

We need to rewind a bit. In November 2006 my home church Central Christian came on their yearly family trip to Puerto Peñasco. They were one of our larger groups. In fact I was overseeing 13 sites on that trip and 9 of them were Centrals. I have always been excited to work with central mainly because I got to reconnect with friends that knew when I lived in Arizona, but I also got to make new friends. That being said Central was not an easy group to work with. The leadership had been coming on the trips for many years and preferred that the Amor staff just stay out of their way, unless of course they needed something. I remember my very first time working with them. We trying some new things at our camp to help with space and keeping groups together most of the other groups loved the idea, Central did not and they were not afraid to let us know.  I was so excited to work with them because it was my home church and they turned out to be my most difficult group since I had started working with Amor. The main leader actually told me, “I’ll be happy when I don’t have to deal with you anymore.” That was my first experience with the group as an Amor team member. I was embarrassed. So by the time 2006 rolled around, and after working with them once or twice a year, I knew I was expected to be just a “go-for”.  So that is the roll I took on as far as the leaders were concerned. But I did my best to make sure everything went smoothly.

While on this particular trip one of the members of their group stepped backwards onto one of the roof rafters. It cracked and he fell onto the concrete floor below breaking several vertebras in his neck. I am told it was the same injury Christopher Reeve suffered, but fortunately without paralyzing him. There was however extensive physical and mental rehab needed, and the injuries took away his ability to run his contractor business. So it came as no surprise to Amor that we would be named in a law suit along with Central Christian Church.

Fast forward to 2011 the trial had begun and it was becoming clear that Central and Amor had two very different ideas as to how they would approach the law suit. I really don’t know much about the trial itself, aside from my testimony, and the reports we got from Amor as the trial played out. We were not allowed to talk about specifics of the trial, so the updates were more about the feel of how it was going. This is what I took from it. Amor went it to the trial assuming loss. And because of that they had decided to try and show love to the ones bringing the suit against them. Now I have no idea what Centrals defense was. As the trial played out it became apparent that the effort to show love to Amor’s accusers, took on the appearance of Amor and the plaintiffs on one side and Central on the other. I found that odd, but really agreed with Amor that it was the Christian thing to do. I got the feeling that Central believed that the plaintiffs, being Christians, should never have taken this to the courts. I can’t say I that I disagree with that notion, but the fact is that they did. There was an offer to settle out of court, that Amor was hoping Central would agree to but did not and that would turn out to be a mistake. The jury found in favor of the plaintiff. It was a very large judgment with the responsibility falling 5% on the plaintiff, 15% on Amor, and 80% on Central.

Now that I was living in Arizona, I had started attending Central Christian once again, and it was great at first. However, once the trial started things started getting weird. People I thought to be friends seemed to be avoiding me and when I did run into one of them and tried talking to them most of them would not look me in the eye. Now you have to remember that both Central and Amor had made a huge impact in my life. God had used both to change my worldview about what being a Christian really means. Now I felt as if I was a child in the middle of a fight between two divorcing parents. And one of them seemed to believe I had chosen the others side. It quickly became a huge burden, and a great source of sorrow and loss.

With the logistical and cultural struggles of the Reservation, the lack of time with my family and the new feud between two huge spiritual influences in my life, I was starting to break under the pressure. I had been wondering if it were time to leave the ministry. In fact, I had been contemplating it long before we moved to Arizona. So, I took off to spend time with God on a mountain top seeking some guidance. The guidance did not come but oddly some peace did. It was as if God was okay with whatever my decision turned out to be. Shortly thereafter I notified Amor that I would work though the busy summertime but after that I would be leaving. Whether or not it was the right decision, looking back at it now I can see God’s hand in making the move back to El Paso go so smoothly, and I believe he would have done the same for if I had stayed. I began a time of rest and relaxation like I had not felt before. I am so grateful to God for that time. It was good for me, but I really had not dealt with all of the guilt, sorrow, resentment, grief and shame that many of these issues brought into my life.

So, I started to drift a way from God. I started to question if I had run away from all those tough situations; the guilt was continuing to grow inside me. I felt resentment towards Amor for what I saw as a lack of support on the reservation and for what I saw as bailing out of Juarez after preaching to stay the course in the face of fear to so many groups. I felt a deep hurt over the way things ended with Central. Then, things I thought I had dealt with started to come crawling back in my heart, mainly the way I managed my team in Juarez and the pain of watching it all fall apart around me. The guilt over Alonso’s death started to raises its ugly head. I drifted further and further all the while still attending church and still telling myself I loved God. I just couldn’t bring myself to look at Him or talk to Him anymore. How could I was running away from Him. I started second guessing leaving the ministry I loved. I realized that the things I was good at were no longer being used to serve God, and so I heaped on more guilt, and tried my best to hide from God.

Depression set in and I did not want to do anything. At first I did not know what was wrong. I just thought I wasn’t feeling good. I tried to joke about by calling it a bad case of the “I don’t wannas”, but after awhile it got to a point that I would go to work because I had to but come home and do nothing. For those of you that know me, you know that is just not normal. I always have to be doing something. Whether it is yard work, gardening, or projects around the house, I am always doing something. But, about seven to eight months ago was so depressed I hardly even wanted to cook dinner. I didn’t even know it was depression, I just knew I did not like it. Something had to change.

A couple years ago I bought my first motorcycle and about a year ago I made plans to paint it. I knew I wanted a theme and giving that I am a huge Stryper Fan, I thought I would be fun to have a Stryper themed bike.  Besides I had started to realize that I wanted to run from God and that scared me. So, Stryper was a good choice. How could I ride around on a bike themed after a Christian rock band and not be a Christian. I think somewhere deep down the decision to use Stryper on my bike was a cry to God for help without actually having to cry out to God. I also knew I wanted to do it right so I wrote to the band to get permission to use the logo on the Bike. Dave Rose the band’s manager at the time wrote back granting me that permission.  The painting was delayed though after I dropped the bike and put a huge dent in the tank. It was a small thing stopping on a gravel surface. The bike just slipped out from under me and it made me feel pretty stupid. I set about trying to get the dent out, a project that went from hours to days to weeks. The depression was really starting to hit me at this time and the more I looked at the dent the more I beat myself up for being so stupid. I eventually stopped working on the dent. A couple months went by and I was really starting to wonder what my problem was. I was not doing anything and that scared me. So I started to force myself to do something, anything. So I started on the dent again. I got most of the dent out and used a body filler to finish the rest of it. I convinced my Jackie to let me spend the money to buy the primer so that the bare metal would not be exposed, and I started the painting the primer on. As I worked I began to notice a change, I started to want to work. It was frustrating work, but it was drawing me to it. I thought I had the dent out but it was clear when the first coat of primer went on that it would be visible, but I kept working thinking disappointedly “well it’s not going to be perfect”. Then I started having bubbling problems in the primer around the dent. I could not figure out why. So I would have to walk away, but I wanted to come back to it and that was encouraging. After much discussion with family and friends trying to figure out why it was doing it and after three or four coats I finally finished the primer. I think the issue was I had put it on to thick but it was only one of many possibilities. I did notice after all those coats of primer the dent was not longer visible so good did come out of the frustration and that actually made me feel good. However, it was time to stop the project for awhile since that is what I told my wife I would do being that she was concerned about the cost, However, I did not want to stop. I really think I was afraid that if I stopped working I would get swallowed up by the depression that was still eating away at me. Honestly at this point I really hadn’t figured out why I felt so down or that God was even anywhere near, but I knew I was moving again and I was afraid to stop. So somehow I convinced Jackie to allow me to buy the paint to put the color on the bike

Church was really starting to hit close to home with the messages around this time and I could feel God trying to draw me in. While, there at church I would cry before him and ask forgiveness for running. But I would come home just to run some more. One Sunday the message really hit hard and helped me to see a portion of the guilt I had been living under. I knew then that I had to do more to get myself right with God and right with myself but I did not know where to start, so I asked some men at my church to start meeting with me to see if they could help. I started to force myself to read scripture and pray. To be perfectly honest though it was a chore and I telling God that is pretty much what my prayers consisted of.

I don’t know why my wife allowed me to by the supplies I needed to finish painting the bike, I know she likes seeing my happy and maybe she could see that this was helping. I really don’t know because I was really trying to hide the depression. But she did, and so day after day I painted and prayed and read my bible. Well I’d skip reading on days that the depression was worst. And my prayer still consisted mostly of apologies for wanting to avoid God. I still have a long road ahead and there are still days that I break down and cry for reasons I don’t fully understand yet. However, healing has begun.  The paining turned out to be as difficult as the primer and at one point had to bring it all the way down to the primer again and start over. Nothing came easy one this bike. It was as if something did not want me working on it and later while crying out to God asking him why every step had been so difficult I would get the since that it was because of that very thing something did not want this work to continue, and it wasn’t God. Something strange has happened upon finishing the paint job, well two things really. One I don’t want it to be over and two the motorcycle and Stryper have become symbols of spiritual healing. Maybe it is silly but the bike has become very important to me, and the thought of losing it or not having it has a project scares me. I am now walking or maybe limping hesitantly with God instead of running from him and the healing started with Stryper and a motorcycle. I had been begun looking for a sign that God hadn't given up on me and it was starting to look like this motorcycle was it. When I finished the paint job, I found out that Stryper would be in El Paso, TX just a month later. I thought that it was too much of a coincidence to not be of Gods doing. So I wrote to the bands manager Dave Rose once again. I sent him some pictures of the bike and expressed my gratitude and my wish that the band sign the motorcycle while in town for the show. Did I mention nothing about this came easy? A few days past and I had heard nothing, so while on their website I decide to check and see if his contact information may have changed. I could not find his name anywhere. I panicked a little and forwarded the correspondence to every email on their page. To my credit I did send and apology with it to anyone that would be receiving it in error. As it turned our Dave was no longer the manger. The Stryper business affairs office got back to me and after a lot of back and forth emails I was told to be at the venue when the band arrived and try to get them as that were walking in. I was only given a time frame between 12:30 and 2pm. So I was there @ 12:30, and made sure I'd be in their path. Unfortunately, when they arrived @ 2pm I was told they were running behind so I watched as they unloaded and walked into the venue. I felt so defeated. You have to understand that I had it in my mind that the signing of the bike was the sign from God I was looking for, and to watch them walk by was difficult to say the least. This is when I started crying out to God questioning Him as to why this was so difficult. I was praying hard that this was not the end, and I was fighting with myself because I knew I was being unreasonable with God. I knew I should not need a sign from God but I wanted one so bad, and I did not want to be disappointed with Him or the band if it did not happen but knew I would be. I was trying to decide if I should keep waiting or go home, when Tim Gains came out to use his phone. I was trying very hard to be patient and not look dejected (I am not so sure I succeeded). After he finished His phone call I had the opportunity to explain why I was there. He told me to hang on and he would see if anything could be done. After a long while he came back out to check if anyone had spoken to me. No one had. He asked me to hang on again. Maybe five minutes later after I had waited three hours in the sun the tour manager came out and told me to bring the bike behind the stage area. The band came out signed the bike and spoke with me for a few minutes all of them very friendly telling the bike looked cool and asking me questions about it. I tried to convey just what the bike had come to mean to me but I just but I didn’t do it justice. Then they went back in but Tim Gains stayed and talked motorcycles with me for a few more minutes. They are all great guys, but I will always be grateful to Tim because he was the one who really made it happen. Then he spent extra time with me and really seemed genuinely interested in talking with me. Those few minutes while we talked motorcycles really made the day so much more special. While it may have been selfish of me to ask, I got my sign from God and I know he still cares. It means a lot that I got the signatures of my favorite band, but it means so much more to know that God has been the one pulling me out of this depression with a motorcycle of all things. God willing the healing will continue and I will not need the bike as a symbol, but for now I am grateful to have it. Stryper, a motorcycle, God and me, it is a strange recipe for spiritual redemption, but that is just what is happening. Depression still lurks and my progress is slow, but good is starting to win over the bad. I give thanks to God that he has seen fit to express to me in such a special way that he is not abandoning me.