Hello, my name is Scott. I was born in Long Island, New York fifty years ago.  I am the youngest of four children.  My brother closest to my age is nearly ten years older than me.  I had fantastic parents who instilled in me a strong work ethic, and a friendly nature.  My father worked as commercial boiler room engineer and my mother did various jobs over the years, including optical sales and medical billing. My early childhood was normal: going to school, playing in the streets with neighborhood kids, and going to the zoo.

My parents divorced when I was 7 years old.  I lived for about a year with my mother until she became  sick, then I went to live with my father.  My father and I spent the next three years living in an aunt’s home.

My experience living with my aunt’s family was challenging.  She drank a lot, and some of her much older kids, my cousins, were drug addicts. The violence and arguing I witnessed made me fearful and angry at the same time. I began to develop a distrust for people.  My father worked two jobs to support me and save for a house of our own.

While I was in the third grade, I attended three different schools, and between ages 7 to 11, I lived in four different places.  I believe the lack of roots and stressful circumstances created some trauma. Small things could set off extreme emotional responses.  Once, I broke down hysterically crying when I heard that one of my classmates, whom I barely knew, was going to be moving away.

By the time I was eleven years old, my father saved up enough money to move us out and buy a house in Hicksville. There were lots of kids in the neighborhood who were my age and everyone seemed to get along. Peace at last!

That summer, I met Frank (affectionately named, “Bones”) and he became my best friend.  We went to the same school, rode our BMX bikes, had the same friends, and we also began experimenting with drugs and alcohol at the same time. Despite the return of tranquility to everyday life and a focus on doing well in school, I seemed to be having a harder time managing sadness and anger as I got into my early teens.

At about 11 to 12 years old, I began my double life: waking early to do my paper route, playing sports during the day, and then drinking beer at night.  By the time I was 14 years old, I was going to school and working during the week and getting drunk most weekends;  I started smoking marijuana and I was struggling to stay on the honor roll.  My father told me outright, “I do not like the choices you’re making.”  By the ninth grade, I started cutting class to go drinking with my friends.  By the tenth grade, I cut classes all the time, and the day I turned 16, dropped out of school. I starting working at a deli full-time and was doing all kinds of drugs.  By 17, I was heavily abusing alcohol and serious narcotics on a daily basis.  By 19, many of my peers were starting their careers or in college and I was drunk and stoned all the time. I had become an alcoholic and a drug addict. I didn’t want to feel anything.  I wasn’t taking care of myself.  I lived like a savage.

One night, I accidentally overdosed on PCP while with some acquaintances. I fell through the front door and I was foaming at the mouth.  I stopped breathing and lost consciousness.  Whoever was there put me into bed.  Later, “Bones” found me.  When I came to, he was distraught by my utter lack of fear at what had occured. I didn’t die that night and I didn’t learn my lesson, because I continued abusing drugs and alcohol to fill my empty soul.

When I was 20, I started dating a young woman who worked at the coffee shop.  She really cared about me and to stay in her good graces, I quit drinking, but I wouldn’t give up smoking pot.  Deep down, I struggled with who I loved more: her or the alcohol.   Joe, a guy I met at the same coffee shop warned me to “not bring her down.” Joe was a 40-year old recovering heroin addict, so he knew my struggles. December 25, 1995, I had had enough: “I can’t do this anymore!”  I went “cold turkey” on drugs and alcohol and as of the date of this writing, 29 years later, I have been completely sober!

Joe got me involved with Alcoholics Anonymous (A.A.) as my sponsor. I was doing up to two A.A. meetings per day, trying to stay busy enough so that I wouldn’t relapse and go back to my old friends and drinking and doing drugs. Joe came with me to the meetings.  “Bones” even threatened me with a beating if I went back to doing drugs. To stay vigilant, I was heavily involved in service for our group meetings and then got really involved by staying in touch with the guys from our group: cops, firefighters, fishermen.  These guys became my “band of brothers,” a tight-knit group with maximum accountability.

At the meetings, I was taught the 12 steps of A.A. from their “Big Book.”  These were principles which were reminiscent of teachings from the Bible, but it was not Christianity, nor Judaism, nor anything. I didn’t grow up with a religion, so the spiritual foundation was foreign to me.

This monumental change in my life convinced me that there is a higher power (but I did not yet know the God of the Bible).

I stayed the course of sobriety, began dating, got married, and began helping other men overcome their addictions by sponsoring in A.A., and volunteering in rehabs and detoxes. Despite being sober, I was unaware that I had brought the problems of my childhood trauma into my adult life. My marriage was full of problems that we couldn’t solve ourselves.  We separated and then divorced.

A few years later, I began dating, then got married again. We had similar problems and the marriage ended up in divorce. I felt so empty.

When I turned 33, I married Heather. A year later, our son was born. About three years later, we began attending a church which our good friend, Dan, had started. Through our friendship with Dan, Heather and I accepted Jesus into our hearts and got baptized on the same day.

After our conversion, I was formally diagnosed as bipolar. As I began psychiatric care, I was put on multiple medications to assist with my condition. I could not continue working and had to sell our business. I was also diagnosed with other mental illnesses. We sold our house and moved to North Carolina so that we could live in a state with a lower cost of living and be closer to my wife’s family.

I struggled in so many ways. I stopped calling on God: I didn’t pray and I didn’t read the Bible and I didn’t look for a church to attend.  It seemed like I had put my faith in God on hold.

About four years ago, Heather started attending a nearby church. I didn’t go with her all the time because I didn’t really understand the reason for fellowship, Bible-teaching, or being under the care of a pastor.    About a year later, I had major surgery which, afterward, further depressed me and my appetite.  I stopped eating and became severely malnourished. My organs started shutting down and I should have died. My wife had the pastors from our church come to our home and pray and talk to me. After a time, I started to bounce back, regaining weight and the physical ailments began to subside. God brought me back from the brink of death.

Last year, I returned to our church with a heart filled with a love for the Lord which I never had before.  Whatever that void in my life was, God filled it.  As I look back over the years, even when I didn’t know the One True God of the Bible, I notice His involvement every step of the way:  He gave me wonderful parents.  He used A.A. to deliver me from drug and alcohol addiction.  He brought me together with Heather and spoke to our hearts at Dan’s church.  He spared my life again, because He has a purpose for me.

I am thankful for each day of life He has given me.  Last year, I was baptized, because I wanted to dedicate the rest of my life to serving the Lord.  I stay involved with multiple ministries: food pantry, Billy Graham prayer line, parking service, and storm  relief work.  I feel God has called me to love my “brothers”. I remain obedient to whatever The Lord leads me to do.

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Dear Reader,

God’s grace is abundant and it is available to you right now.  It doesn’t matter to Him what your past is or who you’ve been.  You don’t need to clean yourself up.  Through Jesus Christ, He promises to make you a new creation when you put your faith in Him.  Just imagine: Jesus died for a sinner like you!  When you become a Christian, you become a citizen of heaven and you get to spend eternity with God.  His love for you is immense, well beyond understanding.

If you have not already done so, I implore you to turn to Jesus, accept Him as your Lord and Savior now.

May the One True God bless you!

-Scott