Pastor Jakes Testimony

If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed. (John 8:36).

Every day, I celebrate the greatest gift God has given me besides my wife, 3 children and one grandchild. That gift is my sobriety and my restored relationship with my GOD. February 3rd, 1987 was first day of the rest of my life. A reset so to speak. I was born Sept.10th,1956 in Ft. Wayne Indiana, to Harry and Marjorie Julian. On that day while my mother labored painfully and lovingly to bring me into this world, she also endured the terribly tragic loss of my then 3 year old brother Billy. He had fallen down inside of an outhouse it seems and died of suffocation before he could be rescued. It was many years later in my life before I realized what strength of heart my mother surely possessed, and what a great gift of grace must have been bestowed upon her on that day. She recently recalled the events of that day to me, and she commented that having me was her real salvation at the time. I don't quite know how to respond to that I must admit even now.

I grew up in a home where although there weren't always a lot of material things or money, the one thing I can say is there was a lot of love (and noise)! Mom made due with what she had and I don't suppose I ever lacked for anything I really needed My mother stayed at home and raised us (all thirteen of us I might add!) as my father made his living driving the big trucks. I still have very fond memories of "going on the road" with him. In a big family you have your share of conflicts,no doubt. Looking back over the years I guess it's pretty remarkable still that we are a fairly close nit group.We moved to Fairmount Indiana when I was about 5 or 6 and that is where I was raised until I graduated high school and left home to enter the U.S.Air Force in January 1975. Our family life was not perfect or perhaps even normal, but I would suspect in retrospect, like so many other American families, we made the best of things as we could at the time. My parents gave us what they knew. Such is life in small town America. It is where we all begin to take our lifes roots I believe. Speaking of small towns, Fairmount was the hometown of a few famous folks, like the actor James Dean, Phil Jones the C.B.S. News correspondent, and cartoonist Jim B.Davis, creator of Garfield! I suppose this is why I still tell folks today that I'm the "infamous " son of Fairmount!

I spent from Jan.30th to Oct.23rd, 1975 in the service of "Uncle Sam" as a U.S.A.F. "security specialist". At first I guess I was a bit overwelmed to be out in the big bad world however I quickly got over that. As do all good over-achievers, I got involved volunteering for anything and everything. They seemed to like that and I guess I was still real naive as well at the time. I never questioned much back then. A good troop just followed orders. In the beginning I just wanted to be a good troop. I did really well until the time came that I did finally dare to start asking why to someone. Why was I in places I didn't think I was suppose to be, seeing and doing things I just couldn't reconcile my mind or concience to? At about that point in time I found myself on their "wrong side". This tends to happen to those good troops who dare to think or feel. Well of course I still haven't and probably never will resolve the events of that year totally, but I work on it continuously. The main thing is today I refuse to let any of those dark demons control my world anymore. I had to learn to bring myself home. I wasted far too many years waiting on a vindication or perhaps absolution I'm sure now will only arrive on that day " when hell freezes over". I'd love to say so much more here, but I did "make a deal" and if I disclose the terms (facts) I might have to kill you! Or maybe they would get me first! HA HA .Anyway for the "Official "record I left the service of Uncle Sam on Oct.23rd,1975 with an "honorable discharge" and my full benefits intact as a OFFICIAL Viet Nam ERA veteran. I'd signed on for a four year hitch. In and out in less then a year! They said at the end, I was "inadaptable" to military life. Hmmm, ...yet I still got all my benefits. Geez they were awfully generous wouldn't you say?. Anyway you can be sure of this, whatever facts may still remain in dispute, I CAN and DO relate to the fine men and women of our armed services who served proudly "in combat" for this fine country! I am proud of the job I did and the services I was called upon to perform. I did my job with pride & honor, and I will always hold my head high. I will as long as I live, owe my life to a single moment in time with Sgt. 1st Class John "Brown Bear McKinney who tagged me with my nick-name "Jake". I'm grateful that he cared enough to tell me the truth about heroes. Lastly to any parent who's ever lost a son or daughter to any sort of so-called "official" military training accident, please heed this statement. As painful as your loss might be, dare to question and even demand a full account. I can tell you from experience that things aren't always as they might appear. I suppose that's far more then I should ever say, so enough ranting about this.

The next part of this saga isn't much prettier, but it is part of my story. I'd never touched a drop of liqour until the military, so I suppose it was somewhat of a natural progression. I never knew how to feel about anything and didn't much care to either at that point. I found out rather quickly if I drank enough, fast enough and long enough I didn't have to feel anything except numb. This was the one feeling I did not mind. I spent from 1975 until 1987 in and out of an alchoholic and drug addicted fog I called my life. I drifted from job to job town to town, always dragging my poor wife and kids along with me. I learned to "steal or deal". I got lost in the "White Lady" I learned how to slam a needle, and guzzle bourbon whiskey 'til I drank so much I couldnt get high or drunk anymore no matter how much I put in me. I learned to survive on the "meanstreets". I made and blew more money then most folks ever see. I used to have a sticker on my truck that read "my other car's up my nose". That just fueled my ego I think looking back now. I had a great false pride in outsmarting the "heat" as well. I found a certain sense of security in gun toting. I came to spend every waking moment watching everything and everyone else perhaps just a bit too closely. I would find myself inevitably in the bars, or anywhere else for that matter, seated in the corner, facing the door, ever hyper-vigilant at all times. The other end of that was to hide in curtained rooms and peek out watching for "THEM". When I'd been crossed I found I could knock a mans teeth out with a ball-peen hammer, have another line, then drive home, pick up and hold my child just hours later as though it had never occured. I had become a total Jeckyll and Hyde. Numerous accidents and totaled out cars. Waking up in strangers beds, or even worse bringing them into my wifes when she was out of town had become a habit as well. But hey I'd never got a single D.U.I, not even a single drug possesion charge. Dope dealers always get busted or murdered eventually don't they? In my mind these things were the indisputable evidence of a lowly drunk or doper. After all my wife was still hanging around. I was still above ground and sucking air so obviously I was "just fine",and people ought to mind their own damn business. Hell I paid my taxes and voted like everybody else didn't I ?

Living a lie I learned is just not that easy. I found out after a long while that no matter where, or who I ran to, I was still right there ! So completely alone on Jan.28th,1987 I "came to" one more time, in a shower-tub in an empty apartment in east Wichita, a needle hanging out of my leg, water running out all over the floor, and a sawed-off shotgun wrapped in a dry-cleaning bag lying on my chest. I cursed God " for waking me up! I felt as though I had pulled the trigger on that shotgun, as if there was an icy frigid Kansas wind rushing through my stomach, and all throughout that barren apartment. In that moment I began a process of surrendering. I got high one last time that morning, called up my wife and told her I think I might be an addict/alcoholic. She responded " No sh*t", 'bout time you figured this out, everyone else already knew it". Then she came over and drove me to treatment. Flat-lined twice in the emergency room, I'd been to that particular hospital no less then 3 times in the previous 6 months after overdosing. In that moment on a cold January28th, I began to "get honest" just a tiny bit. I checked in and I stayed there. I've stayed clean and sober since that day. Today I am so thankful to finally realize, looking back through all those wasted years, I wasn't living, I was surviving. I've come to see that not much else was possible until I was ready to make a serious change in myself. I'd been with a good woman throughout most all this time, but being human, she finally had enough and we divorced shortly after I got clean and sober. She'd stuck with me for over a dozen years (ten of them married to me), and bore me two beautiful daughters, Sara and Mari. I suppose after all the lies and broken promises, she just lost any trust or love she'd ever placed in me finally. Today I know she had to stop the insanity for her own sake as well as my daughters. My divorce from her finalized in May of 1987.

I married my 2nd wife in Dec. 1989. After only 1 week she disappeared. I was devastated. I got the marraige annulled after a few months when I had heard only from her mother that she had called her and assured her she was ok and safe. She told her to tell me "We were over" and don't worry. "that she was fine". She finally made contact and explained the circumstances of her running away. I found out 4 years later that she had been raped by my A.A. "sponsor"after him offering her a ride home after a midnight meeting, because I was working. She told me she could not tell me because I would "hunt him down and kill him". Truth be told I would've

In the fall of 1990 I had married again and was working in Wichita Ks. for a major business aircraft company. I was separated by then from my third wife (who was expecting our son in Feb.1991). We hadn't been married very long. I'd have to say today that we never honestly took the time to get to know each other very well. As she put it so eloquently some time later, "Look, you wanted a son, and I didn't want to live with my parents forever." I can only say today that we both had mostly wrong reasons going into it. Maybe getting married was a mistake, maybe not. In any case I know today that,"two sicks don't make a well". Anyways out of our struggles came our son, Michael Paul. I should say right off, he is certainly not a mistake, rather he's a great blessing and gift in my life today. For me, at least looking back now, his birth signaled the beginning of a whole new life for me. The previous year had been full of new struggles, difficult changes and stressful challenges. I was facing the wreckage of my past, and healing from years of guilt and shame. Yes I'd been in counseling for some time even at that point. Now being that I'm more stubborn then a Georgia mule, of course, much of the "pain"was once more,self -induced. I had a great job, nice home, and my wife had "moved back in" again. So as far as I could see at the time anyways, I was in pretty good shape. You see, "if you sober up a drunken horse thief, all you got is a sober horse thief". It was finally time for this one to start getting honest and hit some new "bottoms" in my life. I suppose in fact, I was way overdue for it by this point in time. I guess "pride does come just before the fall".

Much to my surprise and sad dismay, in February 1991, my world would seem to come apart again. I'd been having problems with numbness in my legs I'd be standing at work and my legs would just go out from under me. I went to the doctor and they started looking me over. I recall one time my legs quit and my wife having to lift me and help carry me in the house, ...now that was a sight. A month went by and then into another. They still weren't sure what the problem with my health was and all I could do was try to go to work and wait. Then all heck seemed to break loose! *Feb. 5th (hints of a possible layoff) *Feb.6th (Doctors tell my boss putting me on indefinate medical leave may be neccessary) *Feb.7th (Michael Paul) our son is born) *Feb.8th(company layoffs occur) *Feb.15th (my wife takes our son and leaves again) *Feb.18th (doctor tells my boss he's classifying me"disabled" from my job; initial diagnosis: [chronic degenerative osteoarthritis of the multiple joints] ).. {Geez What A Month ! } *March 23rd (company notifies me by letter, "you have been placed on indefinite medical leave"..."you will not be called back") *May(my divorce becomes final).

My health continued to deteriorate. I fell into a deep depression and began to have frequent violent ceisures. My body would swing from extremes of total numbness, to excruciating pain in my legs and other extremities. In November of 91, I found myself hospitalized at the V.A.after having a ceizure in the blood lab. *Nov.91(new diagnosis: peripheral neuropathy & complex partial petty maul ciezures). As I look back now I could add "insane" to the list ! I was also trying to attend Wichita State University full time at that time! Also while all this was happening I'd began the "turtle-paced" struggle to obtain my disability benefits.{that's a whole seperate story in itself}! I'd have to say at this point I had hit the bottom of the barrel with my health, and yet even now I try to remember it's just one day at a time, and there are no guarantees. Well the day came shortly thereafter that my legs just gave out completely and I met the CHAIR. So there I sat, wanting this son I couldn't even take care of. I couldn't even go to the bathroom on my own at that point. His mother at the time had created her own problems and wasn't taking to motherhood very well. I was grateful to her parents at the time as they stepped in and have looked out for Michael and cared for him from the very start. Although I missed him every day, he lived with them for I knew his life was stable there and I know they love him as much as I do. He is grown now and is serving in the Army, and I pray for him and his safety every day.

I spent nearly all the next 18 months getting my feet back under me, literally and figuratively speaking. I spent a lot of time in personal counseling (Thank you Bill Morris & Sweet Mz. Pat) and searching inside of myself also during that period of time. I'd hasten to add that the time had come in my life to make peace with my past and finally slay some old demons. Part of that process launched me on the path I choose to walk even today. (Every pun intended) I have learned that "Our secrets keep us sick". Mine did, both emotionally and mentally for many years. I have come to accept this as true for me, at least in part it's the reason I chose to write this story. Now be clear on this fact however, although granted I've made good strides in my addictions recovery process, mulitple abuse issues, manic depression, P.T.S.D. & etc. I strife for measurable progress each day. I've not known a full pain free day(physically) in over 7 years now, but I suffer no illusions nor do I confuse the difference between personal emotional conflicts, and medical health problems. I'm fully familiar with both in my world. I suppose that this is why I've become a slightly more tolerant human being these past few years. Almost a year and a half ago I received another thorough going over and was diagnosed with (Fibromyalgia). I know there is no cure for it at present, but I know if I do what I can to take care of myself, I can still live a productive life, albeit not painless for sure. A much wiser man then I once told me that "The spiritual person accepts an equal measure of pain and pleasure for life has always measured itself out this way". I spent most of the first half of my life seeking pleasure and avoiding pain, the result being I never tasted real pleasure and succeeded mostly in causing far too much pain. So I'm only just now beginning my spiritual journey I suppose. I know there's God of some sort out there, and I'm convinced it's not me! Outside of this I'm very open-minded to learning all I can about other types of spirituality. Having a Native-American heritage on my fathers side of the family I've adopted and practice many of these spiritual beliefs in my life today.

As part of my recovery process I'd kept a journal fairly regularly. At what I refer to as my "Emotional Bottom" in August of 1992, a friend I will forever treasure,stopped by to visit and having heard enough of my self-pity at that time spoke this to me: "So, you can not walk today, tomorrow you may" ! He then gently took my shotgun away from me, went and put it in his car, and returned to my side. I never asked him about that gun again and I don't know its whereabouts to this day. He asked me if I was still journaling, to wit I said yes. He responded: " Then start where you are and work with what you do have! You can still play your guitar & you can write, right?" I said yes, and he said "then put your journal away for now, write some songs, and stop whining that you can't work on airplanes anymore !" I believe every human being has at certain times in our lives, "crossroads". For me this intersection was a most crucial one. I'm thankful today for his loving audacity in confronting my selfishness and the priceless gift of focus I received from him that afternoon. After he left, I was initaially extremely miffed to have been called on my bullsh*t. But I got over that by "telling God"this! I prayed: "Fine if I'm suppose to write songs at this point, I'll know it, if you give me 100 songs in the next 12 months, otherwise I'll know it wasn't your will" ! Now I know that He isn't a "Monty Hall " playing "let's make a deal with peoples lifes" generally speaking, but still, this I said on Aug.2nd 1992, and nonetheless on Dec. 18th,1992 I finished writing the 100th song. I learned something right then and there. "Watch what you ask God for, you may just get it !" So during those next 18 months between doing my physical therapy, and spending a few weeks in the desert with an old indian medicine man, at some point during my "spirit quest" I began to "get my legs back". I wrote over 300 more songs. I still don't know or understand how this all could happen, or that I'd ever have that much to write about. Today I don't care, I just accept it as part of my passage. Also I can't explain today just exactly how I got out of that CHAIR, 'cept for a lot of hard work and prayers. I didn't know that, nor did I dare to say it was or wasn't a miracle. I do know that while I'd learned some new and painful lessons they were also some very humbling and healing ones for me too. Two of my three doctors at the time were quite confused as they had both decided in their "professional opinions"I'd never walk again. The 3rd doctors' response was: "let them fight it out between themselves, you just accept your good fortunes, enjoy it and show your gratitude by rebuilding your life". All I know is today that CHAIR sits out in the shop. I keep it specifically to remind me of where I came from.

In May of 1994 I packed up all I had and moved, as so many others have, to Nashville. I knew no one here. But hey I had a "bag of songs", my guitar, my health stabilized, and a few dollars. Things were looking better for me obviously! I started out playing my songs on the streets, lower Broad & 2nd avenue. A few months later I'd made a few new friends, got my reality dose of Music Row, and met the most beautiful girl I still swear today that the good Lord ever made ! She is the perfect gift from GOD. I have since married this beautiful Mississippi woman ! I continued to write new songs and I'm convinced that I was basically given the gift of a second chance at my life . There are so many things left untold here. My life is a "miracle", as is finding, marrying Ms. Sandy and our sharing in a "true partnership". Today my life is full and rewarding, although I still have "Those days". The best part of all this, is that I am living my dreams of a lifetime as my reality today. Go figure huh ! Life is Good ! I believe today that " distant horizons? ...well they are just lines that are waiting to be crossed!" And the journey is much sweeter since I returned to Christ.

There have been so many travelers along my path that I'm so forever and deeply indebted to. They each one know who they are but even today I'd suspect they have no clue exactly how much what they gave means to me even today. I believe that my God today wears many "different skins". These travelers I refer to here, I believe played a critical part in saving my life. I will mention my Mom, Dad, & family, from New Mexico; the late"Brown Bear"(ah-koh my friend) & Jim P., from Kansas; my "OTHER" family, my sweet daughters, Sara & Mari, my boy Michael, Tom, Vince, Charlie, Trish, Michael W., Nancy C, Kim J, Brad H., Don M., Mike R., and Lil Mikey. In Tn.; Lou, John, Herve and Danny R. The "Project" players, the gang at the Woodbine & 202 groups. You all "have hung" when everyone else "gimme up" including myself. I owe you each "BIG TIME"! You each and every one gave to me, at just the right time, your gifts of love when I didn't even know how to recieve them. Ms. Sandy, all that I am today & everything I do, I'm inspired by you.. my sweet lady.

Seventeen years have just flowen by! So I sit here thinking about the past years and all that has passed by my eyes, through my ears, from my lips. My heart is full of joy and sadness at the very same time. My hair is shorter, and yes grayer, my build more hefty, and even though my gait has slowed a bit I'm very thankful to still be able to stand and have a gait. The past decade took my father to cancer, stole my mother away to dementia and recently sent her to be with my dad. But one the good side life also brought me a beautiful healthy grandaughter Claire. I've had many countless wonderful hours of struggles, idleness, laughter, tears, fussiness, silence, which has been the ebb and flow of life and love. Until marriage with my dearest Sandy, my partner and best friend, I had never knew it could be so safe and secure. She has made me every day want to be a better man because of who she's been and how she is to me. When I went to Music City 15 years ago I never dreamed life would turn in the directions it has. I've taken a lot of different paths and had many ups and downs. I've made a few really good friends along the way too I must say. And I have also buried a few too damn many as well, but such is life.

I now have a rich and loving experience with my Higher Power. I choose to call him Jesus. For 23 years now the evil spirit of addiction has been replaced by the support of the Holy Spirit. As I have grown in these 23 years, I have crossed paths with many people. Some of those folks know who they are and I will not use their names in order to protect their privacy. In some special rooms I have learned the path to sobriety. More that anything else, my walk with the Lord has brought a bright light into a dark place. GOD has moved me back into the ministry. Brother Cox taught me how to be a pastor and my sponsor showed me loyalty. God has given me many other miracles. For many years I 've prayed and God heard my prayers and they were answered. God has transformed this old doper/drunk into a new creation and a new man. Lord does it ever feel good! I no longer suffer reproach by people here or anywhere. He gave me a beautiful helpmate and she is my best friend. He also gave me back my daughters. I may be poor in money now but I am extremely rich in spirit.I finally found the unconditional love, acceptance, and fulfillment that I was looking for. I live each day a day at a time. Gee what a concept! I want to tell the other addicts about hope and recovery in Jesus.

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