From what I have been told, and from what I can recall. My
family started out with many problems. My father who left a
marriage of which he partially raised 5 children. The divorce
as well as separating from his kids brought him much pain. Even though we didn't have a lot I always seemed to have fun somehow. Chapter 2 -Me, mamma, and the Utes My mother and what she had to go through with us. Having 3 kids now. As she had my sister Melissa in Buckeye Arizona about 18 months prior, then my little brother Brad was just born. Still poor, and desperate, and frustrated because all of her responsibility. Not to mention having 5 steps children from my dad's previous marriage, although they did not live with us, or visit much. I'm still not clear on why not. Still, there was a lot of child support involved. And my dad made clean start after leaving that marriage; having gave all he had to his family and ex-wife. So many times my parents fought, and fought. Lord knows how I wished and prayed that they could just get over their insecurities and just live life peacefully. But that day came and went. Many times how I prayed when that day came when they would try to love each other, how it would grow like a seed, and continue to grow. But the love would die and the fighting would come back. I always had to TRY to intervene. I always wanted to antagonize them enough to focus on me, and fight with me. If for nothing else then just a little attention. All in all I thought that I could fix things. Of course, later I learned that I was wrong, and that I can not 'save' anyone, that is the work of One Who is greater then me.
Chapter 3 -"Mamma, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys" It took me years to get to know my dad. He was always busy. Not that he was always partying or anything; Just that he was always out of state on business meetings, and job interviews, and whatever else. He was at one time an executive type for a large world wide construction company. He lost that job as an end result of an accident. That is when we sold our house and moved to Fountain Green. On the trip from Arizona to Utah, I remember an incident when there was a guy in the rest stop and he was peeping at me over the stall, while I was going 'potty'. My dad took him out side and started working him over. The guy quickly ran to his truck and got a baseball bat, and came at my dad with it. My dad being trained by the 101st Airborne in the Army (Special Forces), took the bat away swiftly, and beat the crap out of the guy with it. My dad, even in his lowest times, was always my hero back then. I remember talking about him so much to friends in school, that they would beat me up for it. Eventually we moved from Fountain Green to Sandy Utah. We were still poor, and my dad worked at a Skaggs Alpha Beta (a hardware store) and other side jobs for construction making very close to minimum wage at these jobs, in order to support his at this time now, 9 children. Child support for his other family was great. In Sandy is where my youngest brother Justin was born, and where we lived for about 4 years, before moving to Mapleton. To see a picture of Justin . Times were hard in Sandy, and I passed out flyers, and stole so that I could afford a little fun and a little pizza every now and then. I had older friends like Eric, and Rodney and some other thugs in the neighborhood that taught me how to accomplish some of my hearts desires. I was desperate, and easily lead. I can look back, and see how no standards of morals hurt my life, not only that but every day, regardless of how hard I tried to fight it off with pride, and images of role models, my morals got lower and lower. Eventually I was stained with bad choices and permanent memories. We moved to a place in Utah called Mapleton. This was a place of refuge for my mother and father. My dad quit drinking and started working full time (with tons of overtime) at Geneva Steel. Mapleton was a fairly quiet area, and this made them feel good. I was destroyed emotionally though, as I had left another whole group of friends behind in Sandy. I crawled into a secret depression for awhile. Eventually I met some close friends. McCall was my best friend and there was a large group of skate boarders that at first meeting them beat me up a lot. Eventually we became friends. (that later dissolved). Another friend Jeanette stood by me even to this day we are friends. Two wonderful blessings, with memories that will last for a lifetime.
But even after getting on 'solid ground', I was still getting into trouble. I was always walking 12 miles to go from Mapleton to Payson, where my grandmother lived. Grandma Jennie. I loved being with her, because she was good to me and I had 2 cousins that were a lot older then me, who lived with her, and they took me places with them, and I learned a lot from them. Good and bad. I loved to be with my cousin Aimie, she took me to dance clubs, and parties, and let me hand out with her. We grew up together from the time I was 2 years old. She lived with my parents for awhile, when she was younger. She was like my best friend. Eventually I moved in with her and her boyfriend when I was having tuff times at home. My parents split up, and I went to live with my grandmother. When my parents got back together a year later, they wanted me to move back in with them. I wouldn't, and when they tried to force me, I tried to over dose on pills. I was tired of battling with my parents. There was a serious personality conflict. Several times, I felt unsafe in that household. I wasn't serious about dying then, I just wanted to make a statement. After taking a bunch of pills and coming back awhile later to my grandma's house, my mom had the police waiting and my parents committed me to a rehabilitation facility. Chapter 4 -The drug store cowboy Being in the hospital made me feel worse, because for the first time in my life, I had friends and loved ones that I could depend on. I had a large group of friends that came over to my grandma's house every day. Most of them were young girls that I had met at school. One was "the love of my life" (or whatever), who I lost contact with since my parents took me away from my grandma's house. She and I had a really good relationship. We never went too far. But we always talked on the phone for hours. I would stay up until 4am talking to her on the phone about nothing. Simply discussing life and how much we didn't understand it. I was confused about love back then, and it was such a scary thing to me, so I kept my distance. But I know now that I loved her, and she may never know it. (sigh) She is married with children, and I haven't seen her for years. When I was released from the hospital, I had to move back with my parents, who were then living in a trailer park in Provo, Utah. There I made some friends with girls in the neighborhood, and kids at school.
Provo High school, as well as being in the hospital is where I found connections into the drug scene. And this is where I met my friends who I would move in with in the near future. Several were 'skinheads'. Racist and non-racist. Those who considered themselves "White Working Class Males". We all B.S.ed about our politics, and our fears, and our hopes. We didn't do much working. We just made excuses to feel important. It was funny that way. Because our insecurities were our reason for being friends. But our friendship was based on pride. Lord knows that we had nothing at all to be proud of, regardless of how 'profound' that we may have thought our accomplishments were. As reflection of the culture that I grew up in, here is a link to look into the mocult and their racist doctrines (I encourage you to review these passages from the books themselves, so that no one is "taking things out of context") I ran away a dozen times, before I finally moved out and lived with my cousin Amie and her boyfriend (un-named). Who was a skinhead. What was funny about him is that he was a racist skinhead, who had tattoo's of racist emblems, like SS (Geustoppel symbols). Who listened to and sang along to racist music. But had a stepsister who he loved, that was black. I thought a lot of her too, she was smart and nice, and very pretty. He also listened to African-American rap, like 2 Live crew, ect.. Regardless of his confusion, I still consider him a strong character, and he can be a nice guy. We haven't spoke in years though. I moved around a lot, and I knew many different types of people. The things that I noticed most in my environment, is that poverty, violence, tragedy, and emotional situations were always able to unite people. I guess that those things break down our pride, and other such things that would 'normally' hinder our connection to one another. I found that hate was medication for my depression. It gave me a way to blame my problems on everything else but where they (my problems) were hiding; Inside of me. I could literally take all of the inward hurt, and let it go by screaming at and/or about someone else. Or just singing along with my friends or by myself to hateful music. I blamed things on the government, on the rioters in South Central L.A 1992, and in Miami shortly after. I blamed things on the cops, the courts, and the legalist of this world, and religion. For some reason, I thought that if I tore things apart and put things back together, that I could make sense out of my great deal of confusion. I never really hated anyone, but maybe myself. I didn't know very many people that didn't look, act and live like me. So my 'hate' was a product of an ignorance that I was raised in. Be it the Mormon church and their standards for their priesthood, (which not too long ago, did not include people of color), or my many family members and friends who were racist (most of which who were raised in the Mormon church). And though I considered myself a 'skinhead', I had many girlfriends that were not white. I like one girl specifically who was 100% Navaho, and two other girls who were twins and were mostly Hawaiian. I just like the idea of having strength and association to something that I thought was true. Taking accountability for my fear, my anger, and my sin would ultimately set me free. After separating my mind from skinhead ideology, and getting confronted, and fighting with those who were against that belief system. I started following the crowd. I started going to Grateful Dead concerts and Rainbow gatherings. With 'modern day hippies'. This is where my drug problem's got out of control. I went to dance clubs, and "raves", and things that were completely out of character for me. Just to find love. And to make some dough.
I eventually found a friend while hitch-hiking, who became my girlfriend/fiancee. She took me to her friends house in Provo where she lived at the time, and I moved in with them. It was a really interesting environment. The resident, and friend who lived there and paid the rent was an ex-Mormon now gone Hare Krishna. She had a boyfriend who was a 'jack-Mormon' who lived there too, and then her 2 of 4 children lived there. Then there was other people who were 'spiritualist', and a native American heritage believer/Christian who stopped by from time to time, and/or lived there too. The friendship, living situation lasted for 6+ months. Eventually, our relationship was soured slowly and I left. I hung out in Utah for awhile finding more trouble to get into, this continued for another 6 months or so. I ended up at my parents house again, and I just could not grasp any sort of a stable situation. I could not hold a job, stay sober, stay content, and stay still. I was always restless, and I worked awfully hard to screw things up, but I thought that I had a cause. That was my excuse, my cause was to be the most 'non-conformist' person that I could be. I felt betrayed at many levels and I was going to make life hard to deal with. This depression got me very far down. I seriously attempted suicide, in a blur of bad memories, and emotions. I took nearly a full bottle of anti-depressants. The pills were so toxic, that I fell onto the ground in convolutions. I remember the cops showing up, because my Grandma sensed that there was something really wrong with me, after I got in a big fight with my mom. So my grandma called the police, and I was in the middle of talking to them and denying that anything was wrong with me. That's when it happened. I blacked out, and fell to the floor while having a seizure. (My stomach has been messed up ever since) Chapter 5 -Sleepless in Seattle After waking up from this blotched attempt on my life, I was so weak, that I couldn't even think clearly, or move. I just laid in the hospital bed and rested. After that, I had second thoughts on that idea, and decided to move to Seattle. Apparently they thought that I was ok to go home, because they didn't try to institutionalize me. So I left.. (not before getting arrested one last time)
Eventually, after landing on the streets, and having restraining orders put against me from my mom. I moved around the USA. I traveled all over for 3 years. I pretty much lived on the streets, and I had nothing. Sometimes I would get a job, like washing cars, or doing construction labor. And sometimes my parents sent me some money. But I was always desperate for love. This desperation landed me in many compromising situations. I ended up in the hospital on many occasions, beat up, or messed up as a result of drugs or something. (still to this day paying medical bills, and legal fees on those events) This is where I found that my weakened sense or morals and lack of standards, put me in a very vulnerable shell. And even though I let few people get close to me. Some time my shell got broken, and I had to paste back the pieces again. I was nearly de-sensitized to sin. I was willing to live a very dishonorable life, just to continue to "fight the man". I had felt betrayed by the judicial system, and wanted to do drugs, and live an unruly lifestyle just to make my stand. This battle against the system is just another distraction by the enemy. No matter how hard that I tried to free myself, I was not able alone and I got sucked back in. Jesus Christ out of all who tried to help me, was the only one who was able to set me free. Chapter 6 -A cup of cool water After first leaving Utah, and going to Seattle, I met up with a Christian ministry called New Horizons. They were always willing to lend a warm shoulder, and sit me down for a hot meal once and sometimes even twice a day. Many times that took us street kids out for and activity. They had very personal relationships with us, just as they do with the Lord.
They made us feel very welcome, and they were very hospitable. Even though they spent 100's and even 1000's of hours serving the ministry, with no financial reimbursements (some got paid minimal salaries) and they were always joyful, and always friendly. I remember Chris, Mary, 'Grandma Penny', and so many others, giving me hours of their time, just letting me whine about how awful things had gotten. For the first time in my life, I truly experienced the love of the Lord in a true Christian fellowship. This was not religion. This was not mans take on how things should be. This was what Christ taught. This was a true relationship with the Lord. I was reluctant for years to accept this kind of discipline. I thought to myself. What do I know about love? How can I possibly trust something so simple? It didn't make sense to me, and I ran from it. I traveled around for another 2 years. I went from Santa Cruz, to Minneapolis and back several times. I stayed in many different cities and spoke to many different people about the Lord. I got the opinion and testimonies of many different people (about everything imaginable) Chapter 7 -A friend of the who? Eventually I ended up living in Spokane WA. I was living with a girl and I was going to marry her. But her parents put pressure on her to leave me, because I wouldn't marry her in the Mormon temple. Many times I tried to get a job, and 'do something with my life' to prove to her and her family that I was worthy. But I was not going to marry her in a temple that was built on a foundation that I didn't believe in. That relationship was on and off. One time when we were living together. It was during the holidays in 1998. It was right after Christmas, and times were tuff. We had no food in the house, and I was going to be evicted soon. My family was poor, and her family hated me. So we had little hope of surviving together. So I found a car, and the people selling it were going to let me pay them payments. I got in it for a test drive. It needed a battery, and my parents sent the money for it, I put it in, and took it for a test drive. I was driving without a license and there was no registration. The car had been sitting for years, and there was no traction on the tires.
So I was driving down the highway, and I tried to turn around to head home, and I slipped off of the road into an ice embankment. I flooded the carburetor with gas, and I was stuck with no way to get home. It was nearly a blizzard at this time, and I knew that if I flagged down a highway patrol, that the car would get impounded and I may get a ticket or go to jail for something. So I prayed. I prayed for any kind of relief. Even if it was the Lord's will. I just asked for the Lord into my life. Inspired by all of the kind people and the testimonies that had been shared with me about the Lord and His mercy and love.
After praying, and receiving the comfort of the Lord. I got back in the car, and it started immediately. I got back on the road, with no push or pull. Then I drove back to where I got the car with no worry at all. I parked the car in the driveway from where I took it. And it never started for me again. So I was on the "heel - toe express" again. I was going back and forth from the small mountain town that I lived in, to Spokane Washington which was about 25 miles away. I went for a job, for food, for prayer. About 2 weeks after my experience with praying. I was hitch hiking back from Spokane; and a young man named Nathan picked me up, to my surprise he was a youth pastor at a local church. Him and I both decided after talking about this experience that I had, that this was a divine appointment. He gave me a ride and his phone number, and offered me prayer and advice whenever I needed it. I called him often. He helped me get home to Utah in March (1999) to visit with my family for a few weeks. After that I went to Minnesota to sell magazine subscriptions. Then I came back to Spokane again. Chapter 8 -Then came a light I came back to Spokane, and shortly after arriving, I got picked up by Nathan while I was hitch-hiking, in the very same place again. I went to his church with him that next weekend. This is when I sincerely believed in God, and was moved to open the Bible and read His words. I opened it up to Matthew 10. I will never forget it, and I recite it often. I was living on the streets again. Walking back from Nathan's mother's house one beautiful summer day I came upon a man who was sanding his car. He looked as though he was having a very bad day. I asked him if I could pray for him. He accepted, and then brought me in to meet his wife. By the end of that night, after feasting with them, and praying. They invited me to live with them. They actually kicked their daughter out of their house, and moved me into her room. I was shocked. But I was thankful for the Lords blessings. I got hooked up with Nathan's former church eventually too, it was a non-denominational church called the Life Center. They had a college age group of kids, and they had a cook out in the park every Friday. I was invited to river rafting trips, Christian concerts, and to stay the night at the houses of some of the members. I eventually got an apartment through the House Authority of Spokane, for $25 a month. I had a job selling insurance for credit cards, and I was making a fair wage. There were also great fellowship meetings held right around the corner from my house. At one of these Bible studies, we read Romans 13 and I was convicted to be accountable for my actions. I was mad about all of the hypocrisy that I seen around me. And that convicted me anymore. I had warrants in Utah for possession of marijuana. I was still smoking marijuana. Thinking to myself that "the Lord made it, so why not use it". I had a lot of excuses. But the Bible told me that taking medication is called "Paramecia" (witchcraft). I used marijuana just like some people use Prozac, or aspirin.
But I was convicted that even using those kinds of drugs are "Paramecia", or witchcraft. It was when the Bible study leader was smoking a cigarette, and he told me that smoking marijuana was wrong in the eyes of God, this is where I learned the word "pharmacia" from. He made so much effort to convict me of that. I got mad, and that is when I truly questioned my 'need' for using marijuana. I found that there was no 'need' at all, that it was simply a desire, that I could do without. I knew that it was best do to without it anyway. As I wasn't healthy, I wasn't focused or productive, and I wasn't connected to God. My thoughts were about me, and me only when I was on drugs, even though I thought that I was helping others by rebelling, or I tried hard to convince myself of that at least, I was solely focused on the out come and how it would benefit me. So I came back to Utah, and I turned myself in on 4 separate warrants, all for possession of marijuana. When I got out, my family was reluctant to let me come back, but they seen the change that the Lord has been making in my life, and they were inspired to participate in my life again. Since then, I have been living with them, and for the last 2 years, things have been great. Our relationship is better then it has ever been, even if they are tired of hearing me preach all of the time. Chapter 9 - Changes in latitude/Changes in attitude I have witnessed my mom and youngest brother attending church meetings many times since I have been home, and that is a huge inspiration. I have also witnessed several of my friends give their life to the Lord for the first time ever, or re-commit their lives to the Lord. Witnessing to Mormons has been a great blessing to me also. I have a newfound respect for them. Even though I grew up with them all of my life, I never valued their religion. But now that I have been given forgiveness by the Lord and since I have been redeemed. It is much easier for me to offer forgiveness and understanding to others. Many in their religion have loved me and accepted me, which is even more of a blessing. There are always a few bad apples in the basket. But overall Mormons appear to be faithful, and loving people. I obviously don’t believe that grace and religion are similar, or do I see how they can connect to each other. But what I do believe, is Jesus' words "when two or more are gathered in My (Christ's') name, I am there in their midst". That is Christ's church. I know that I am a part of it. Just as Christ declared Peter's faith the "rock", even though Peter was formally known as "Simon = the flaky one", who denied his Lord 3 times. This is the faith that Christ knew we were capable of, as we are all sinners, and upon this faith Christ established His church on earth. Where it would reign until the end, without ceasing. He set the mark high, but He knows that we are weak and that we can't do it on our own, and that is why Grace does abound in His church. Not that we should sin more, so that Grace may abound more, as there are obvious consequences for all sin, and even though the Lord forgives us for sin, it is not to mean that there will not be earthly consequences on earth. It is as He says "What one shall reap, he/she shall also sow"
I praise the Lord for His love, and mercy, and forgiveness and for the life that He has given freely. I praise Him that He made His church so strong that "the gates of Hades shall never prevail against it". His strength shelters me, and His love consumes me.
His peace -Ryan
Everyone has a God shaped void, everyone tries to fill it up; I have tried religion, work, education, sex, violence, sports, ect.. Nothing but a healthy relationship with the Lord will ever quench the heat of temptation, and guilt, and fear as the Lord Jesus Christ has. Even after everything and everyone that I have experienced, I know my Lord lives and loves me. |