Witness

My spirit quest began when I was seven years old, in a playground behind my apartment building. It’s odd how some of our most powerful memories are of the most mundane occasions and so you wonder why they would even linger. I believe those little moments mattered in some special way that we may not have fathomed at the time and so left an impression on us.  Just like the character, Moonlight Graham (in a wonderful performance by Burt Lancaster) says in the movie Field of Dreams, “We seldom recognize the biggest moments of our life as they are passing by.”

On that summer’s morning in the park, the beauty of which I remember well, this child had a most casual conversation with God.  It’s funny how nonchalant kids can be about things that would impress adults.  I was on the swing and pretty much had the park to myself, as the rest of the family was still getting ready for church, early on a Sunday.  As I swung, I pondered the story of Achilles, which I had learned about in school and how his mother got to choose his fate.

She had been given the choice to let him have a long, quiet, forgetful life (albeit, pleasant and happy) or a short, glorious life (being remembered with honor). She chose the latter, of course, being the Greek goddess of rivers.  However, she tried to cheat his fate by dipping Achilles in the river Styx, which separated the land of the living from the land of the dead, thus making his body impenetrable and him therefore, invincible. If only she didn’t have to hold him by the heel of one foot to keep him from being swept away in the current.  Yes, his Achilles heel was his undoing, courtesy of a poison-tipped arrow shot by the enemy.

As a child, the lesson of his mother’s folly probably escaped me at the time, but I was intrigued by the choice she had to make; what would my mother had done?  That’s when I heard Him for the first time, “Which life would you have chosen?”

Just being a child, the enormity of such a question, especially given the One Who had asked, eluded me as well.  Neither was I spooked in any way.  I heard Him in my heart, but it was as poignant in my head as it was whenever my mother would yell for me using my formal name…”Robert!”  The experience was real and matter of fact, but it felt natural and serene being in His presence.  So, I answered.  I told Him if I had the choice, I would rather have a long, quiet life than a short glorious one.  I told him I wanted to have my own family to take care of and that love was more important to me than money, fame or glory.  I wanted to always be there for my family to love them.  This was the heart of a child, bearing himself.  I don’t know if every kid would have answered the same way, but that is how I truly felt.

Therefore, I was not at all surprised when riches and fame never materialized in my life.  However, I was surprised by how hard and challenging that simple, family life turned out to be.  I figured by living a simple life, things would be…well, simple.  I thought a public life would be the one to bring craziness.  However, I learned it was probably the other way around.  The rich and famous can avert many issues that trouble regular people, by virtue of their wealth and celebrity.  Raising a good family, may be the hardest challenge a human being can face. For that reason, good parents are really heroes to society.

No less than Charles Bronson himself, stressed the point to a bunch of starry-eyed, Mexican kids who looked up to the gunfighters in the movie, The Magnificent Seven.  He admonished them that the real heroes in life were not the cowboy mercenaries who had come to save their village, but their parents, who had the courage to make a stand in life to raise a family- battling bandits, disease and the weather in order to have a home and protect their children.  You see, I thought I had chosen against a glorious life?  I was wrong.

Raising a family is a noble endeavor and is very, hard to do well. I can think of no vocation that entails more sacrifice and personal pain.  That is why it was good that God and I had that talk.  As my days unfolded, I would need help and strength that I could never have imagined were required to live this simple, life I had chosen.  As the storms of life would rail against me time and again, I was always consoled and empowered by God, because I knew we had an understanding. It didn’t make my life easy, but it did make it doable.

From that day on, I carried an acute awareness with me of God’s presence. Among my siblings, I was considered a “goody-two shoes.” My older brother and younger brother, as well as our kid sister, were all rebellious teens. I was not. And I think a big, reason was that talk with God and knowing how close and intimate He is. It made me want to do good and make good decisions. I was a good boy. But I was also moody and immature.

At age 15, I was heavily into theater (school and community) and hung with a clique of drama students and musicians. It was then I met Colleen, at a drama club meeting no less!  Our story is worthy of a full-blown book and perhaps one day I will write it, but for now allow me to provide a sense of how this impacted my faith and my spirit quest.

Colleen was my first love and the first girl I ever kissed.  We were both 15 at the time.  However, I could not simply date her and get to know her the old-fashioned way.  There had been a conflict between our fathers and her parents would not allow her to see me.  So, from May through September, for one year in my life, she was all that existed.  It was a summer of sneaking out at night, hiding in basements, secret rendezvous and haunting the woods.  I would have done anything for her, anything.

As summer ended, so did our time together.  Exactly what happened is a story for another day, but suffice it to say, Colleen’s home life became unlivable.  A series of events conspired to have the family legally, disbanded due to severe abuse.  Colleen was sent to live with her grandparents in Florida!  I never really got to say goodbye before she left.  And I was still in that head-over-heals, infatuated out of my mind, first time ever in love state of mind that we never forget about with our first loves.  I was happy she was now safe, but I was devastated at her loss.  I felt my heart had been ripped out.

This was a test of my faith in God.  I railed against Him for what happened.  I was upset He allowed her to be abused and I was furious He had sent her away.  I thought we had a deal; a long, simple life with the girl of my dreams.  He introduced us and I thought we were on our way.  Now, she was so far away she may have just as well been on Mars.  I was mad and depressed.  I wrote some of my saddest and darkest poems at this time of my life.  I was not just an awkward teen.  I was an awkward teen who was extremely sensitive, lacked confidence and had his heart smashed to pieces.

I carried the torch for Colleen through my last two years of high school and did not go on a date until my prom.  During that time, I stayed busy with school, theater and work.  I had a small group of friends to run with and they consoled me over losing Colleen.  However, I did not feel quite as close to God until the following Christmas when He performed a miracle for me.  The first entailing the manifestation of matter.

I had returned home from shopping on Christmas Eve and placed a big shopping bag on the chair next to the front door with all my purchases consolidated inside.  Shortly after, I brought the bag into my bedroom to prep for wrapping.  It was then I realized a small bag was missing from Radio Shack.  My brother had chipped in with me to buy our sister a calculator for school (the early, clunky, expensive kind).  She had asked Santa for it, and we wanted to surprise her.  It was not in the big bag where I had put all the items I had bought at the stores.

I checked everywhere and even drafted my family to help me look; nobody had seen it.  I searched the car, my track into the house, all around the chair by the door, everywhere.  I started to panic.  It was the present I was most excited to give, and my brother had also been counting on me.  I started to fear it had dropped out of the big shopping bag in the mall somehow; maybe when I was putting other stuff in the bag or checking things.  However, if that was the case it was too late; stores closed early on Christmas Eve back then and good luck finding it even so.  I had been so happy, but I was now so sad I was crying.

Mom came and sat next to me on the couch and said we should pray about it.  I was reluctant at first, but Mom’s gentleness and compassion moved me, and I agreed.  We bowed our heads, and she prayed for God to give us back the present.  Then she kissed my bent head and said to have faith and went back to holiday prep in the kitchen.  I stayed on the couch and prayed a little longer and told God I wanted to be feel close to Him again.  My eyes were tired from crying and exhaustion was setting in. I figured it was time to start moving on with the evening.  I raised my head to get up and immediately spotted a Radio Shack bag in front of me, on the chair next to the front door, right in the middle of the seat.

I felt a rush come over me and let out a shriek as I flew off of the couch.  My exclamation brought Mom running from the kitchen as I picked up the bag in wonder.  No way we missed it sitting in the open on top of the chair I had rested the big bag on. There was nothing left on that chair when I brought that bag in my room, and I had even sat on that chair to think the whole thing through while retracing my steps just a short time before.  Yet, there it was and I bleated out that I could not understand how it suddenly got there.  Mom called back that she knew as she joyfully went back in the kitchen pointing up toward the ceiling.  My sister loved the gift!

The summer after high school graduation, I finally went to see Colleen in Florida, having just turned eighteen.  However, I did not handle myself well on the visit and the trip did not work out.  I hopped back on the Greyhound bus, and we broke up on the phone shortly after.  I was so sad, because we had never been given a fair chance to see what we could have been together.  And I was still upset with God and confused about what He wanted out of my life.

I am sure that I was very immature when it came to girls and dating, because I did not date in high school. So, after we officially broke up, I started dating the girl from chorus I had taken to the prom.  We got along pretty good and when she was getting ready to go to college, we planned for me to join her at a school in North Carolina.  So, she went down a semester ahead of me, while I arranged for a transfer from community college and made some money.

She broke up with me as soon as I got there.  I was devastated again! She had never meant to me what Colleen did, but we had something going worth exploring, or so I thought.  An upperclassman apparently had other ideas.  So, here I was in the Blue Ridge of North Carolina, far from home for the first time; dumped, lonely and frightened.  I started out in that school staying in a Christian dorm, joining chorus & theater and singing in church.  I wound up in the party dorm, dropping the arts and working on the farm. It was my time to rebel.  However, no matter how much I smoke or drank, I knew God was always close by, albeit disapproving no doubt.

I dropped out of school after my junior year.  I had decided I was not emotionally cut out to do Social Work (my chosen major due to Colleen).  I lost all interest in my studies and only wanted to party and work on the farm.  After college, I floated for a while.  I went back home, but my parents had sold our old home and bought a new one in another town.  So, I couch surfed for a while, then moved with a friend to Georgia for a bit.  Afterward, I came back north and hung with some old friends while getting myself settled.

Eventually, I got a decent manufacturing job and moved into a house with my younger brother.  I was in my mid-twenties, and it was time to grow up.  I was getting closer to God again and was sorry for being upset with him over Colleen and my failures at finding that romance we had discussed in the park.  So, what did He do?  He bought my first wife into my life; meeting at the factory as coworkers.

We were married for eleven years and had two daughters.  During that time, I learned a lot about myself and matured considerably.  Raising a family will do that, but it was also having to overcome the greatest, challenge of my life; an event that largely defined me and set my life’s path.  I had an industrial accident, which was preceded by my second, deep conversation with God and ultimately led to the demise of my first marriage.  It was on January 26, 1985, that my left hand got crushed at a local paper mill.

After marrying, I had moved my family to Reading, Pennsylvania to be close to my wife’s parents. However, blue-collar jobs were scarce and I got bamboozled into accepting a sales job that turned out to be as a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman.  I dropped that job within a day and found other work at the Reading/Whitehall Paperboard company.  The mill had a mandatory seven-day work schedule, making the overtime lucrative.  So, I took the job, but the work was very hard, and it was exhausting without days off, except for 24 hours of downtime once every three weeks due to swing shift scheduling.  But I was able to support my family and made efforts to ensure the future.

Shortly after the holidays of 1984, I was working in the paper mill when God spoke to me again.  It was as poignant and natural as when I was a kid.  However, His tone was very, different this time.  As I toiled with the pulp screens in isolation on a high catwalk, He told me that He saw how hard I was working for my family and knew how important that was to me.  That’s why He wanted to warn me I was going to get hurt; very badly!  He didn’t want me to think He was angry with me or had forsaken me as a result of the accident.  He wanted me to know ahead of time that He was aware and was prepared to help me get through it.  However, in my upset, I admonished God.  I pushed back hard on this notion.

I was freaked!  There was much danger in the mill; lots of heat, chemicals and moving parts of machinery. Since I was at work, I could not properly reflect on this and found myself very upset and tried not to let it show.  However, as I labored, my upset and anger gave way to fear.  I had railed against God!  I had told Him, “No!”  I did not want to get hurt!  Not just for fear of myself, but for fear of my family’s survival.  I had a wife and baby at home counting on me.  But, as frightened as I was, I was more worried to be distant from God.  So, later in the shift when back up on the screens alone, I offered up a prayer.  I apologized for getting upset and told God that I trusted Him and that His will be done.  My life was His.  I went back to work, more at peace, but with an uneasiness I had never felt before.  I had no idea when it would happen- or what would happen exactly, but my number was coming around on the wheel.

It was a cold, sunny, Saturday and I was training a new worker when the moment arrived.   My hand was pulled into a machine and after several unsuccessful attempts to get it out, I cried out for Jesus to help me!   At that moment, a co-worker sprang into action with an idea that succeeded in freeing my hand from between the rollers.  The injury cost me half of the finger sections (7 of 14) of my left hand, required well over 20 different operations and put me on disability for three and a half years.  But true to His Word, God was with me the whole way.  He guided me and helped me, through the mind-bending pain, mental anxiety, financial distress and emotional torment that followed, and which took years to overcome. (For more: The Accident)

Ultimately, the ordeal did prove too much for my marriage though, as we separated and eventually divorced. So much for the simple family life I had hoped for as a child.  Yet, I went back to college with the help of the Pennsylvania Office of Vocational Rehabilitation, earned an accounting degree and got a good office job at AT&T.  I had overcome the maiming of my hand with God’s help and by His Grace, my prospects were better after the accident than they had been before.  God really does raise beauty from ashes, as The Good Book says!

Still, regardless of comeback, the ruin of my family, which ultimately occurred as a result of the trauma, left me lonely and disillusioned.  I kept going back to that day in the park and wondering what happened.  I was not angry at God or upset with Him, but I cried to Him in prayer for my loneliness.  It felt like I would never find that love and family life I had chosen as a boy.  I seriously started to think about becoming a priest or minister.  God would be my Love and my family.  I ran it by Mom even; she was aghast!

Then God must have thought, “Precious child, your love is true and faithful, and I have seen it.  Now, you shall have your heart’s desire.”  Because He gave me back Colleen!!  Almost twenty years to the day that she had been taken from my life, she came back into it; bridging September 1973 to September 1993.  God does love symmetry, order and balance!  Colleen also had two daughters (what a surprise!) and it did not take long for my first love and I to decide it was time to pick up where we left off so long ago.

Our story is one for the books, truly, but I may never write it for the pains run so deep.  Suffice it to say, God had brought me to the “promised land.”  And while God had brought me the family life I had always wanted; it was not as I envisioned and was more difficult than I ever imagined.  Trying to bring two households together and merging two sets of daughters was not easy.  We faced many challenges and opposition, especially in the early years together.  Colleen also carried great scars, not just from her childhood, but as a single mom and from life’s battles.  She was not thrilled with God at that point, but I believe He had always been a fan of us as a couple.

That was evident when I experienced the second miracle featuring materialization of matter. Colleen has asthma and carries a rescue inhaler. One day we went to the mall to get some things and window shop. We had parked and walked through one of the department stores on our way in. As we entered into the huge Atrium of the mall proper, I felt Colleen grab my hand, hard. I looked at her and she rasped in labored breath she was having an asthma attack. I quickly ushered her to a nearby seat in the atrium as she fumbled for her inhaler in her purse.

Her breathing was getting more constricted and she said the inhaler was not there. I asked her exactly where she kept it. She plunged her hands into two netted, side pockets on either side her purse. You could see her hands through the netting. I said it was obviously not there and maybe it was inside the bag somewhere. She shook her head no and handed me the bag. I quickly rummaged and did not see it. Now she could hardly breath and was getting pale. I told her to be calm and that I was going to get help. She grabbed my arm and shook her head furiously, no. She didn’t want me to leave her.

I asked if I could call out then for help. I told her someone in the crowd was bound to have an inhaler and would gladly let her use it. But still she shook her head no. She was wide-eyed with panic, and I felt a sick feeling come over me. I tried to remain calm despite my own feeling of desperation and turned to God. I bowed my head and prayed for God to save her; I begged him as tears welled up in me. I could not bear the thought of losing her. Then Colleen grabbed my arm and shook it. I raised my head to see her brandishing an inhaler!

After she hit off the inhaler and had a moment to regain her breath, I asked her where she got it. She still could not speak well, but plunged her hand into one of the netted, side pockets. “But we had our hands in there!”, I exclaimed. She nodded yes and pointed up. God had given us that inhaler, same as he had rescued my sister’s Christmas present. For the second time in my life, God reached into time and space and delivered a miracle of hope and love! I am convinced that God will bend the laws of physics to help those who love and serve Him. Just as key, it was the beginning of Colleen’s reconciliation with The Lord.

Some years later, Colleen and I were empty-nesting and had moved to an apartment much closer to my job. Things were going okay, and I had settled into the couch to catch a Yankees game on a Sunday afternoon.  It was a sublime setting for my third intense, conversation with God, but this one started with a feeling, more so than a thought.  One of the Yankees stars stepped up to the plate as they announced what a horrible slump, he was in.  The Yanks were trailing, but I was not anxious at all about the game situation; it’s baseball and a long, season.  I was focused on the game but relaxed.

Suddenly, I felt this odd feeling arise in me; so hard to describe.  It came out of nowhere as the player squared to swing on a pitch.  It was not righteous indignation or anger, but a sense of terrible resolve that seized me all at once.  It was as if I suddenly became aware of something that bothered me and needed immediate correction.  My body tensed and with a strange sense of awareness I blurted out aloud with great authority, “For the Glory of God the Father!”  At that moment, the batter hit a towering home run that broke his slump and gave the Yankees a lead.

I was stunned and almost panting as I watched him round the bases. I felt this strange rush of peace and joy wash over me. It was not the game; the game was not that important so early in season. It was God. He had decided to glorify Himself through that moment on the field and allowed me to witness the event in that context.  I was actually giddy, perhaps for the first time in my life.  I felt His presence as if He were sitting on the couch with me.  I mentioned how cool it was to hang out with Him in that way and that I did not realize it could be that way.  He told me He was always close to me and that we can share things from time to time.

Then God asked me something that amazed me; he asked, “Do you know who you remind me of?”  I could not believe He was asking me that, casually, like two people getting to know each other.  I was stunned by the question and fascinated to hear His answer but could not bring myself to venture a guess. This was God talking!  With my cheeks tingling, I quickly relied, “No Lord, who do I remind you of?”

“My servant, David”, came the reply. “You have a heart for me like David and share his passions.”

I felt God’s presence start to fade from me, but called after Him if we could talk more.  He told me we would at another time, but to remember He was always with me.  I was special to Him!  I cried softly to myself as I realized I had just experienced the happiest, most fulfilling moment of my life.  Later that evening, I called my brother Richie all excited and asked, “Who do you think God said I reminded Him of today?” Without blinking, Richie responded, “David?”  I gasped and exclaimed, “What? Did He tell you too?” Richie laughed and said no, but that’s what just popped into his head as soon as I asked the question, “It made sense.”

I did not need validation from God, perhaps that’s why he did it.  But that encounter really got me to thinking.  Thinking about how approachable God was; how much He was really likes us!  I also realized that there was a downside to being compared to King David.  Yes, I could see how I had some of the Israeli king’s traits; I was passionate, brave, loving of God and also a “singer of songs.”  But I was also foolish sometimes, insecure, egotistical and unable to control my emotions very well, same as David.  Yet, God loved David especially well, despite his warts and imperfections.  I guess it’s the same with me.  And it can be that way with anyone who truly seeks Him and His favor.

Ironically, I started to seek Him and His Favors a little too earnestly in the years to follow.  My walk with God was good in general.  I was active in a Christian community at work and had many good, Christian friends.  But I was world weary.  I pined for Heaven and rationalized that I should want to go there sooner than later.  I talked a lot about wanting to move on to the next plane if I could.  Some of my loved ones thought I was being morbid.   I just saw it as being practical…Paradise or New Jersey?  Like it’s a contest.

One September evening, God straightened me out; I had a heart attack and got a commission.  Colleen called 911 and an ambulance came for me.  After a few minutes of fidgeting with apparatus, I was told I had a 99% blockage of an artery.  They also told me they were waiting on another ambulance for an escort, as the siren had just gone out on my ambulance.   So, I was left alone for a few minutes while the cops and EMTs talked to Colleen.  At that moment, I realized I was dying, and I remember smiling to myself and thinking, “It could be that easy.  Pins and needles, as your energy fades and you pass out.”  Then Paradise.

Suddenly, a dark cloud appeared in my mind as my thoughts turned to Colleen and then all my loved ones.  I could not bear the thought of their pain over losing me; especially given my brother Richie’s illness.  I realized I had work to do and people to reach, many of whom I loved.  I was not ready to go, despite my ardent belief in such a better place awaiting me.  God was ready when I popped the question.  “Yes, you can stay,” He answered, “but no more pining for Heaven.  Just show up each morning for duty and one day the assignment will be to come Home.  But for now, focus on the Mission.”

I was relieved, but also a little wistful; just for a second, I could almost taste it.  But now I sported a bigger smile.  I was feeling pretty good about things while in the middle of experiencing a heart attack.  But when they got me to the hospital and pulled me out of the ambulance the look on Colleen’s face sobered me up.  She started pleading through tears for me not to leave her.  I suddenly realized what she must have been thinking with all my hemming and hawing over wanting to go to Heaven.

I gave her a big smile as our faces passed on the way in and told her not to worry; that God and I had made a deal, and I was going to be fine. I wasn’t going anywhere.  I could tell she understood, and it eased some of her anxiety.   And I had learned a lesson.  I did pull through and I still take my medication properly every day.  But I also stopped pining for Heaven and gladly focused on the blessings of the here and now.  And I have reported for duty each morning in His service.  Meantime, He continues to bless and lead me, even into retirement and to the creation of these pages.

Please understand, this undeserved favor (a.k.a. Grace) and “quality” time that God has given me begs no merit on my part.  I deserve none of the wonderful blessings God has given me.  I am horrified looking back at how petty and immature I have been in my life.  I have had many hang ups and still wrestle with some today.  I am a sinner, first and foremost.  However, I have been redeemed by Christ.  When God gazes at me, He does not see the wretched stain of my sinful ugliness; He sees His Son’s breath-taking beauty, The Bright & Morning Star!  Such is the gift Jesus has given to me.  Such is the gift He wants to share with all of us.

That is why I built this website.  God is calling us, and I fear it is getting close to the last call.  I believe Jesus will return in the not-to-distant future.  It’s time for us all to get our lives straight with God.  He is real; more real than this world we live in.  He wants to be close to you, same as me and Him have become. You can have the same inner peace, temporal support and inspiration He has always given me.  So, I encourage you to explore more of this site, to search out The Spirit and to spend time in your Bible.  As Jesus noted, “God is calling on us, every one of us, even the most wretched; do not close the door in His face.”