The Difference that Made the Difference

"And what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also."

2 Timothy 2:2

"Ultimately, each church will be evaluated by only one thing – its disciples."

Neil Cole

I thought I had hit rock bottom when I stole $15,000 from my parents. I was a twenty-five-year-old drug dealer, hopelessly addicted to prescription medications. The police were on my trail, and my prosperous life suddenly fell apart.

Fast-forward eleven years. Today, I have a godly wife and two sons, and I am privileged to serve as pastor of a thriving congregation. In fact, at the time of this writing, I am in my fifth year as pastor of Brainerd Baptist Church in Chattanooga, Tennessee, having been called as pastor in 2008.

Here is the million-dollar question: how can a thieving, drug-dealing pill addict undergo such a radical transformation in so little time — a mere eleven years? What could produce this drastic change?

The answer to this question is, first and foremost, the power and grace of God. This change has come about because of God's marvelous, miraculous working in my life. But there is something else, a human factor:

I have been powerfully impacted by godly men who were willing to sacrifice their time to hold me accountable and personally disciple me in the Christian life.

These men invested in me as Paul invested in Timothy, to whom he referred as his son in the faith. Paul's model in 2 Timothy mirrors the work of these unselfish mentors who guided me through my struggles as a new believer. Here is how it all happened.

For the first twenty-five years of my life, the Lord seemed far from me. I was born into a strict Roman Catholic family, and my parents sent me to Holy Cross High School, a Catholic school for boys in New Orleans. For me, religion consisted solely of attending Mass. Each Sunday, I sat in church and dutifully participated in the rituals, governed by a personal philosophy to do only what was best for me. Completely unconcerned with what God desired for me, I left the services with an unchanged heart — every Sunday.

I graduated from high school with a fantastic opportunity: the University of North Carolina at Greensboro awarded me a basketball scholarship. But I was in love — or so I thought — and turned the scholarship down when my girlfriend begged me to attend a college closer to home.

As I browsed the phone book to see what colleges were in the area, William Carey College jumped out at me. But when I inquired about trying out for the basketball team, I received bad news: the players had already been selected, and the roster was full.

I responded the only way a desperate eighteen-year-old boy could: I begged the coach to allow me to try out for the team! Seeing that I wasn't going away otherwise, the coach caved, and I showed him my skills. To his own surprise, Coach Steve Knight offered me a scholarship the following week.

Just two weeks after school started, my devoted girlfriend, the one for whom I had given up playing for UNC Greensboro, suddenly broke up with me. Overwhelmed with both heartache and anger, I could not see the hand of God at work in the circumstances of my life. Although I did not realize it, He was setting the stage for something glorious, a life I could never have imagined at the time.

Thanks, But No Thanks

During my second semester at William Carey, the next step in God's wonderful plan for me unfolded. In His abundant goodness and love, God brought Jeremy Brown into my life, a friend who cared enough about me to discuss what it really means to have a relationship with God. Although I refused to listen at that time, Jeremy's persistent message remained in my heart: if I would only cry out to God, Jeremy said, He would forgive me of everything in my past. By surrendering my life to God, I would find a real, meaningful relationship with Him. Seven years later, Jeremy's words would come back to me at the time I needed them most.

I graduated from college and started a computer business with two friends. For six grueling months we put everything we had into the company, but it never took off. Exhausted, dejected, and broke, we dismantled the company and each went our separate ways.

When the business folded, I felt like a failure, and turned to a realm where I was confident of success. Standing at 6'6" and 290 pounds, I was fascinated with the world of mixed martial arts. I watched extreme fighting competitions and began to train in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Then, I was hired as a bouncer at a club in New Orleans, where they paid me to fight. It was exhilarating, and I felt that I was indestructible.

Life Altering Accident

I found out how wrong I was on November 22, 1999, when an eighteen-wheeler traveling sixty-five miles per hour swerved across two lanes of traffic and slammed my car into a guardrail. Doctors determined that I had two herniated discs in my neck, one herniated disc in my back, and one bulging disc in my lower back. All I knew was that I was in horrific pain. Their solution: a combination of OxyContin, Valium, Soma, and Percocet.

Having never taken drugs before, I began by precisely following the dosage instructions. But in three months, I found myself addicted to prescription painkillers. When my thirty-day supply ran low as a result of abusing the drugs, I desperately turned to dubious means of feeding my insatiable craving for more.

Two shady acquaintances introduced me to the lucrative world of dealing drugs. With my business training and experience, I quickly became successful at importing and selling illegal drugs. Trafficking heroin, cocaine, GHB, marijuana, and other dangerous substances into New Orleans enabled me to enjoy a lifestyle that most only dream about.

Downward Spiral

But in January of 2000, my world began to unravel. Rick, a former business partner and close friend, overdosed on heroin and died with the needle still in his arm. Between 2000 and 2003, I lost eight friends to alcohol or drugs, while six others ended up in prison. Additionally, the police were starting to suspect me of drug-dealing and began monitoring our group.

Everything changed overnight. Suddenly, we couldn't pay the bills. The gas, water, and electricity to our house were shut off. The bill collectors continued to call until the phone was disconnected as well. To make matters even worse, I had a $180-a-day drug addiction that growled to be fed.

During that period, I stole $15,000 from my father by using his credit card to buy items online that I later pawned or sold...