I AM A CHRISTIAN, not JESUS, and I Do NOT Think I'm Better Than You!

Oh no! Here it comes! I knew it was too good to be true. The idea that this guy was gonna "keep it real" is gone! It was just a set up! I read the title. Here comes the pitch. Now he's gonna lay the guilt on me. He's gonna try to sell me Jesus like a snake oil salesman. By the time he's through he will probably have me dancing with poison snakes while slappping me in the forehead shouting, "DEMONS RELEASE THIS HEATHEN!"

Next comes the tears and the P.O. Box! Oh yeah, he's gonna want my dough to "help save the souls of the world!" For a gift of only $100 dollars he's going to mail me a nail from the Cross of the Crucifixion with my dead grandma's name carved in it! Then comes his "holier than thou" speech and the promise that "if I believe all my problems will go away, and that if I pray for a million dollars, the check will show up in the mail the next day!" The most HYPOCRITICAL thing is that this guy has been an addict, thief and liar who lived with hookers, spent 11 days in a padded room and was married four times! Now he has the nerve to talk about righteousness?! "People like 'him' are the reason that keep people like me from church and worship in the first place. It is a den of hypocrisy and double talk!"

I am proud to say that I am a Christian.
I was "reborn" on August 2, 2009.
I believe that JESUS is the SON of GOD.
I believe HE came here, died to grace us with eternity and forgiveness for all the evil and sin we commit as men and human beings... imperfect. I attend worship at Parkview Christian Church in Orland Park. We don't dance with snakes. No one gets smacked upside the head during worship.

I smoke and swear occasionally. I get angry and envious. Sometimes I act like a complete idiot. I am an actor in a business fraught with sin. I do comedy that sometimes gets a bit "blue." I yell at my kids. I get impatient with bad service at restaurants. I have dreamnt of  fast cars, big houses and making it big! I sin! I sin! I sin! I do all of this because I am human, not Jesus. I am not perfect... nor do I strive for that impossible goal. I don't judge others for their beliefs. I do not think I can earn my way into heaven or that I will stand in  paradise 100 spaces in front of you. I believe we will all stand before our maker to account for our time here. I fail and sin because of my humanity!

Christians are believers in CHRIST as a savior. Most of us do not live on high looking down at the silly fools below.  Those who do embarass us too. I would like to start with my definition of what being "reborn" is. It used to make me envision angry, uppity people screaming "Heathen, you will burn in HELL!" Nothing could be farther from the truth.When we were born most of us were baptized in a ritual our parents arranged or as part of a tradition. I had no choice in the decision when I was a wee baby. I had committed no sin. I was helpless, oblivious and unable to comprehend good and evil. Being "reborn" is being baptized again "by free choice." When I was 3 months old I didn't have a vote in the matter. A relationship with GOD through CHRIST is a choice each of us has. It is the beauty of his grace. It is there for the taking. We can take it or leave it. If there was no choice he wouldn't be a GOD of love and grace. He would be a dictator. Rebirth is a ritual cleansing of the old spirit and a commitment to a life of trying to be more "Christ-like" and accepting JESUS as The SON and path to GOD.

When I professed my confession of faith and was baptized by the water of rebirth, I came out a different man. I knew I had to make things right with many here on earth. By accepting JESUS I was forgiven of all my human defects and sins. It felt invigorating to come up out of the water as a new me. Years of pain and baggage was lifted from my shoulders and heart. I will never forget it. I know I am moving on to eternity so death no longer terrifies me like it once did. I am...free at last....

I am an "Evangelical." That conjures up yet more visions of angry people screaming about sinners and REPENT! That is enough to freak-out anyone. To be "Evangelical" means that I share my experience with people about my life with CHRIST when the moment is right. I try to live my life as an attraction to right living, not as a promotional pitch for getting saved. I do not walk the aisles of the L passing out literature and flicking holy water on the passengers. I just relate the peace and love I feel by living my life as close to the way HE would want me to. I fail and I sin and that's where the skeptics jump like wolves on a wounded rabbit. "The sun shines and the rain falls upon both the good and evil."

I know that the thought of a man coming down from God to live with us and save us from ourselves through his death can be a tough story to embrace. But is it really? Everyday we see man discover new technology and distant galaxies. Some of us have had near death experiences or encounters with angels or loved ones past. If we have a bad Italian dinner we don't stop eating pasta, but if we have had a bad religious experience we usually chuck the whole concept as silly. That is completely ridiculous! The problem is that people want GOD to be Santa Claus or a YES man, not as a light or guide in their life. Everyone believes in love and you can't set that on the table or see it so if you you don't believe in GOD because you can't prove it, you must not believe in love either. Right?

I know I would not be tapping out these words if it wasn't for the GRACE of God. Many people who have gone through what I have are dead, incarcerated or insane. I am free of the bondage of alcohol and addiction! That is a miracle. I have finally realized the thing that I was chasing and the hole I was trying to fill with chemicals was a meaningful relationship with my creator! I talk to him all the time and he helps direct me into making good decisions, not just the ones that are best for me. The hole has been filled. The fear is gone and the comfort in knowing that I am never alone makes living life to the fullest even better! The Bible does not end with "they all lived happily ever after." It does promise that we can make it through any of lifes difficulties through our faith. I truly believe Every Day Is A Gift!

Extra Hands of Hope (Theme Song) Chicago Acting Community Song to Assist...

"COME ON HONEY! THEY'RE ONLY PICTURES! What's the big deal?

Come On, Honey! They're Just Pictures! Why are you so Mad?

My cycle of addiction started with alcohol and then progressed to weed. It moved to speed and pills, and then anything that could eliminate my "feelings" and having to deal with yours. One of the crazy paradoxes for me was that as addictions held me tighter and tighter and I knew I was losing control my threshold of what got me to "where I wanted to get to" grew more and more. Enough is never enough for a guy like me.

My addictions moved to people, love, pain, codependency, and sex. I always made my way back to booze, though, because it was old, reliable, and easy to get, then easy to "forget". When one addiction stopped giving me the desired rush, I slid into the next or combined addictions for full blown chaos.

When I was "living" on Mannheim Road in Stone Park in the Late-90's, the town provided every sin, addiction, and vice a drunken addict, like me, needed to thrive. There was more going on between Lake Street and Grand Avenue than the Las Vegas Strip. That was my experience, although I am sure it is much different now. It is here I found porn. This is a subject I hate to relive, because it almost cost me my marriage to Squeaky. I share it because I don't think Disney will be calling me in the near future to star in their latest family film and I think a lot of guys think like me.

When I was living at the transient motels, or in my car, porn was a deep, dark addiction for me. My relationships were nonexistent and broken. The sicker the video or magazine, the more exhilarated and horrified I felt. It was temporary escape from thinking about me, but it simultaneously fed my self-loathing because I knew my actions were wrong. The rush of watching taboos being broken fed me like ants on a sugar drop.

I have heard guys are visual and gals are auditory when it comes to stimulation. I suppose that's why I am excited at the vision of my wife in a nighty, and she loves when I stroke her hair and giggle with her in bed. From the time I was little and saw my first Easy Rider magazine, I was hooked. The girls were exotic and seductive. They all seemed to be calling out, "Tommy! I'm waiting for you." I felt this was harmless, and maybe, to some men, it is. For me, this was the same as looking at the Mona Lisa or some other art piece. It was just a two-dimension image, and no one got hurt from my fascination with just looking but I got a rush.

I have never cheated on my wife whether drunk or sober, but I do have to say I was unfaithful to her. After we moved in together, and I had stopped drinking for a few years, I rediscovered porn, not in stores or magazines but on the world-wide web. I was smoking pot and taking speed, but it wasn't enough for me. The boundary-free erotica buffet the Internet offers was a click away. Sometimes, I would search for completely vile subjects and, sure enough, a picture or video popped up. Now I’m not talking about little kids or animals, but I was drawn to viewing two ways, four ways, freaks of nature, women/women, men/men, and violent encounters. These were subjects I had no desire to participate in, in reality.

Now, I love my wife, and she satisfies me in every way. I can honestly say it wasn't even the imagery that turned me on. It was the rush and high of exposing myself to such decadence. There were late night log-ins when my wife was asleep and quick check-ins when I got home from work. It was the same cycle as booze. The planning, obsessing, using, and remorse were the same. Only the “candy” changed. However, that phase of my life, marriage and perception of pornography, changed when she discovered my dirty little secret.

The hiding and concealing of my habits were part of the high. Doing something naughty and getting away with it was half the enjoyment. One day, while working on the family PC, she found me out. I don't know how. I believe it had something to do with "cookies" but in reality, I was relieved to be found out. She was devastated and hurt to the point of being inconsolable.

 "How could you do this?" she screamed

 In the typical male response, I replied nonchalantly and coolly, "It was no big deal. It was just pictures, like the Mona Lisa or Baywatch, just naked!"

I was quickly schooled in the depth of pain it caused her.

“You don’t find me attractive!” she screamed.

Not true.

“I don’t satisfy you!”

She did.

“I could never look like or do the things those people were doing!”

I never expected it from her. It meant nothing to me.

“It means everything to me!”

With every tear-filled statement, I felt smaller and smaller, like a shrinking cartoon character.

“Would you be happy if I watched those same images when you’re not around?”

That hit home. Definitely not! I have not looked at porn since then. Guys think of porn as pictures. Women see it as a reflection of what they can't be or what they perceive the man is missing in his life. Once again as an addict, I pushed my wife's feelings out of the way to satisfy my urge to get high. It took a long time to regain her trust. For many days after the confrontation, I saw the depth of betrayal in her eyes.

These days, I have no secrets from my wife. If I get the feeling it might be wrong, I don't do it. I discuss my friends on Facebook and don't accept friend requests from people like "Sizzlin Suzie." Kris has full access to every part of my life. It feels good to know I have nothing to hide. My wife is everything a man could want in a woman and more. I can now put her feelings before my impulses. By not doing things that may potentially hurt her, I have no fear of what she may find. My wife is all woman, and all I need.

Guys before you open up that mag or video with your buds, picture your wife doing the same thing. If you are comfortable with it, talk to her about it. Turn-about is fair play. But if that little voice inside you tells you it's wrong, listen to it. If only we all spent more time listening to that small still voice....

It's Only A Dream!

Dreams have always fascinated me. When I was a small boy I used to sleep walk. I laugh at my Mother's recounting of finding me in our tiny Mokena apartment playing football with the house plants in our living room. There was also the time she found me intently peeing all over our bathroom. When she asked me what I was doing I stated with conviction that I was a fireman and was putting out a fire. She always tried to talk me out of my zombie state or somnambulism by medical definition.

One ugly episode involved me screaming bloody murder about a spider being on my chest at about age 13. Ma rushed in to tell me that she knocked off the spider and all was well. I would have none of it! I called her every rotten word in the book because the spider was still clearly in the middle of my sternum. I woke up with no recollection of these episodes. Eventually they lessened but there are still times when I wake my wife to engage her in unusual dialogue about a man in Britain or reminding her to make a call in the morning to someone who doesn't exist.

Even though I can't recall my sleep conversations I do remember most of my dreams. I have been working on it for years. I was watching Donahue at about age 10 and the discussion was on dream recall. As I remember the guest said something about keeping a pad of paper next to the bed and writing down a color and word from the dream when you awake. Then the next morning read the word and color and try to remember images. I tried it and the main thing I got out of it was trying to remember your dream right when you wake.

As I have developed my dream awareness I now have the ability to be in the middle of a dream and know it is one. That may sound nutty, or a bit of a tongue twister at the least, but it is true. I can be inthe midst of a dream and "go with it" and be conscious of the fact that I am in a dream state and won't get hurt or that whatever is occurring is in fact not happening. If I try to manipulate the dream I wake up instantly. It does not happen in every dream. In most I am merely dreaming. There are several I want to remember and forget to review before I get out of bed and are lost. Occasionally they come back to me later in the day in scenes.

Sometimes I ask God in my prayers to let my Dad or Grandma show up during my prayers. Occasionally they do. Remember I can't manipulate the dreams. I just go with the flow. I know I'm dreaming. I want to call out, "Dad what's heaven like?!" I dare not because I know I'll wake up and I don't know when I'll see him again. He had a car business, both sales and rental. His dreams usually revolve around cars . In most he is younger and happy, or all business. I am just glad to see him. My Grandma was old school. She loved to cook, would slip you a twenty and wasn't big on outward affection. I knew she loved me with all her heart. In the dreams she's just the same.

I have been working on a toy, book and winter clothing drive here in Chicago over the last few weeks. What started out as a friends suggestion has turned into an amazing reality. It is a dream really. It has been physically and mentally challenging taxing trying to coordinate, make calls, find locations, blah...blah...blah. I'm not complaining. The whole project has exploded into something beyond my wildest...well...dreams. It is a chapter in itself. The bottom line is I have been putting a lot of pressure on myself because time is running out and I don't want to let anyone down.  My sleep has been irregular and I haven't been eating well. I trust GOD will make it all work out but there is still work on earth that must be done. When I put my heart into something it is all or nothing. This is definitely ALL.

Today I fell asleep on the couch with my little dog Fiona. I call her Shmutz. She is about 9 pounds and 8 of that are lovin.' She sleeps in between my legs with her wee head on my thigh. I started to dream that I was sitting on a spiral staircase waiting for my Dad. I was surrounded by water,  the stairs were right in the middle of a lake. The water was like blue crystal. I could see all these beautiful fish swimming in a circle around the stairs that came up out of the water that I was sitting on. They were all sizes and shapes. All of them looked friendly or at least like they weren't going to eat me.

I was growing impatient waiting for my father. My stress and anxiety had followed me into the dream. I began to call out, "Dad? I really miss you and I need to see you right now! I feel like I'm going out of my mind....Please?" I began to cry physically but was still asleep. I kept calling and calling but he didn't come. I was sobbing...begging.

 Suddenly I was thrown back into concsiousness as a tiny tongue was licking my eyes. Shmutzy saw and heard me crying and was trying to comfort me. She saw that I was in pain and wanted to make me feel better. I wiped my eyes and kissed her. I haven't sobbed in a while. What a release. Something unexplained had occurred. I felt relief. The sobbing in my dream relieved me of the bottled up tension I had. I felt like a million bucks with a couple short for the headache from crying. It was as if a ton of pressure was lifted off me.

I sat there reflecting on the fish and the stairs as I pet the Shmutz and realized that everything was going to work out fine. I have lots of friends and lots of amazing people helping me on this adventure. It's a great cause! It's in bigger hands than mine! My fears of letting anyone down are ridiculous. I also realized that in my time of need when I called out to my father to show up and relieve me of my fears and anxiety MY FATHER did...and gave it to me....