I don't want to pray...

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
--Philippians 4:6


As soon as I got done with the little bit of paperwork and the guys prayed me in, they sent me upstairs to shower and lay down. "Great", I thought, "just another vacation". I knew I would have to go to Bible study or something like that eventually but they told me to go lay down until I felt better. They were all ex-drug addicts and they knew that I was about to go through it. I quit it all on June 11th, 2011. Drinking, smoking, pain pills, anxiety pills, depression pills, and ADHD medicine. I went upstairs, got as comfortable as I could and passed smooth out. I remember waking up a few times to turn off the tapes that were playing at the foot of my bunk bed. It seemed like every time I woke up there was a different sermon playing. I would turn it off and someone else would turn it right back on. I will explain the tapes more later. All I knew now was that they were messing with my high. I slept pretty well the rest of that day and all the way into the next morning which was Sunday morning.


As I woke up the next morning I heard what sounded like loud mumbling and some of it sounded like Spanish and some of it was a language I had never heard before. As I rolled over to see what it was I noticed that there were 2 hands on my back. I turned over and saw a middle-aged Hispanic man with tattoo's on his neck and arms. He introduced himself as Ricky in a very strong Spanish accent. I pushed back away from him and asked him sharply, "what do you think you are doing?" He said he was praying for me and my sickness to go away, and for the Holy Spirit to take control of my life immediately. By that time I felt so bad I didn't care what it took to make me feel better. Actually I told him he could continue to pray for me but I was going to try to go back to sleep. I don't care who a person is or what they believe, when someone is crying out to God on your behalf it makes you feel great. A non-believer may not admit that, but it is true and one thing I have learned over the past several months is that it doesn't matter how big and bad a person is, they always want you to pray for them. Sorry, just had to interject. 


It wasn't long before I woke up again, and again Ricky was praying for me. This time my head was throbbing, externally. I got up and went to one of the 4 bathrooms shared by the 60 guys that lived there. I looked in the mirror and noticed that I had a huge knot just above my left eye. All the guys were at church so there was nothing that could be done now. I couldn't sleep because my head was hurting so I decided to check out the place since I really didn't remember much about being checked in. The room I was in was just big enough for the 5 bunk beds it contained. The other 3 rooms that were upstairs pretty much mirrored each other. I decided to go downstairs. As I got to the bottom of the stairs in the hallway/entry-way there was a couple of the older guys (guys that had been there for 3+ months) that had stayed back to watch the home. They did their best to get me to go to church but I refused, I felt awful. I noticed the kitchen, it was fairly small for feeding 75+ people per meal I thought. I walked a few feet the other direction into the dining room/chapel/prayer room/bedroom. It was about 40' x 15' and my thoughts the whole time were "this is it?"

It still hadn't completely set in with me that I was there for 6 months and it would be at least 30 days before I would have ANY contact with anyone from the outside world. I honestly still believed that my mom and dad, not Meagan, would feel sorry for me in time and come get me. I knew that Meagan wasn't coming anytime soon. I was pretty sure that I had drawn my last straw with her and like I said I didn't know if she would ever come back. Even that hadn't set in with me...yet. 


The guys got back from church and I asked Ricky to ask one of the leaders if I could go to the hospital to check out this knot on my head. They agreed and I was sent to the hospital with 2 other guys. The leader of the group was a 21-year-old guy that had been in the home for 5 months and the other was a 28-year-old guy who had been there for 3 weeks. After a few hours they finally called my name and they determined that it was shingles. One of the main causes of shingles is severe anxiety. So they sent me home with a steroid and anti-biotic. 


As I got back home Sunday evening they told me to go get some more rest because I was going to start my normal days the next morning. The next thing I know the guy who signed me in is walking from room to room turning on the lights and telling everyone good morning. As I look at my watch I see that it is 5:30 A.M., yes in the MORNING. I was told to get dressed for breakfast. We went downstairs at 6 for breakfast and at 6:30 we were back upstairs to clean up. At 7 everyone went into the chapel for 'Proverbs'. Since there is 31 chapters in the book of Proverbs, we would read each verse of that particular day of the month and then talk about the one that stood out to us. After a short break it was back downstairs for the BIG ONE....PRAYER TIME.

As I came downstairs I heard the worship music playing on the sound system and the volume was turned all the way up. All of the guys were on their knees with their heads bowed over the seat of their chair. Most, if not all, of them were praying out loud. Some of the guys were even crying out and yelling to God. At that time I had only heard rumors about people praying in tongues, I had never really believed people actually did it. Man, was I wrong. I got down on my knees and basically said this: "God, please get me out of here". Then I got up and went out of the chapel where I was met by one of the leaders. He asked me what was wrong and I told him that I did not want to pray. I told him that I did not pray like "that". You see I was raised Southern Baptist and it is taboo to even lift your hands during a song while the service is going, let alone pray out loud. So I sat outside during prayer time. Then it was time for praise and worship which again was crazy to this Southern Baptist. Guys were screaming and yelling about where Jesus had saved them from. In my mind I was too lost, I often looked at some of the other guys who had 3 teeth and ratty clothes and thought to myself that they needed to be at this place, not me. Wow, did I ever have a revelation on that one later.

After that it was time for a 2.5 hour teaching. This was the first part that was semi-normal to me. After that we had lunch and then the guys that had been there for 30 days or less stayed back for another 2 hour teaching. That was followed by a 2 hour break in which I was able to shower and take a nap. Then, at 5:00 p.m. we woke up cleaned up again and went back down for another 30 minute prayer time at 6 followed by more praise and worship. Then from 7-9 we had yet another teaching and then it was supper time. After supper we did a variety of things from praise and worship to studying different parts of the Bible and every now in then we got to go to bed early. Early as in 10:15ish.

On my fourth day there I had to return to the hospital for them to have another look at my shingles. This time I went with a different guy. One who had been in the men's home for about 10 months and he was given permission to look for a job. He was to use the phone at the hospital while I was getting all of my stuff done. By this time I was ready to go home. I really, REALLY needed to talk to Meagan. Mainly to beg her not to leave. I needed to talk to my parents so that I could manipulate them into coming to get me. I had had enough of this place. I would never do drugs again I thought to myself. So remembering that I had snuck a 20 dollar bill in my shoe I went and found the guy that I was there with and told him that I needed to use the phone to call my family because I was leaving. At the men's home there was absolutely NO phone call's for the entire 6 months. So he told me that they wouldn't let me use the phone back at the home. I told him that I had 20 bucks and I was going across the street to use the payphone. He then told me that he was going to have to tell Nick (the home director and now one of my closest friends) that I had the money, another no-no at the home, and that I had used the phone. I told him I didn't care what he did because I wasn't going back to that 'place'. 


He walked me across the street to use the phone, the whole time he was trying his best to talk me out of doing it. I called Meagan first and got her voicemail 3 times in a row. I decided to call my dad next. He answered and I immediately told him that this place was a cult and that they were making me pray in tongues and everything that I thought would make him come and get me. Those were the exact things that dad had asked Nick when he talked to him about the place the week before. My dad basically said that I needed to grow up, be a man, and stop trying to manipulate him. He said that he would see me in 4 weeks and he loved me. I tried to call Meagan a couple more times, not knowing that she was staring at her phone each time thinking that she did NOT want to talk to me. I left her a message and hung up the phone. We walked back to the hospital and he called our ride but not before telling them what I had done.


When we got back home Nick then informed that I would be on "discipline" until he said otherwise for breaking the rules. For the next 35 days God was about to stretch me almost to my limit.


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