My Faith Journey

I suppose in order to do my “faith journey” justice, I’d have to go back to my upbringing and family.

This may be a bit of a long story, but it isn’t really enough to be a book, so here it is in somewhat condensed form. Hope you like it.

I was adopted at birth. I met my birth mother Beverly in the 80’s and she has become part of the family. She’s now a grandma, to my five adult children and a great grandma to three (one on the way) grand-children. Like a friend of mine recently said, “there is nothing like a praying mama…” That is so true, when Beverly didn’t know where I had been adopted to, and how I was, she was praying for me. She still is, and it is so appreciated.

My adoptive parents, Clyde and Ingrid (the “C” middle initial hint), were so happy to adopt both myself and my sister Suzanne, who is four years younger than me. My mother was a German Lutheran, and my father, who had been bludgeoned by the fire and brimstone preachers at tent revivals, had chosen to be agnostic. He had seen what he perceived as “fear tactics” of Christians, and didn’t really want to have anything to do with it.

On several occasions growing up, my mother wanted to go to church, so we’d go to Sunday School, and mom and dad would be in the main service.

I remember the day that we went up for communion as a family, and somehow, in front of the whole church, my dad and us kids were refused communion because we were not confirmed Lutherans.

From that day forward, we never went to church again, and my dad never set foot in another church until the day that I got married.

Suffice it to say that my experience with organized religion didn’t go well. Both of my parents are now passed away

In my teens I decided that experimenting with drugs would be the way to go, so my friend Charlie stole some pot out of his sisters drawer, and I got stoned for the first time.

I have to say I really enjoyed it.

I listened to some Grateful Dead records, got the munchies and went to sleep. It became a “rinse and repeat” way of life for several years. From the age of 15-18 I did drugs at school, home, and in my wonderful tree house that I built in the oak tree on the hill above my home in Novato.

High School was a blur for me. I had no desire to go to college, so I didn’t. My parents were frustrated with me, and I have to say, I really wasn’t a very good kid. I got in trouble for so many things, and was arrested multiple times. At 18 I was arrested for possession of marijuana and spent my first evening in jail.

Fortunately, I was able to get a “sentence” of working on a suicide hot line, and got trained to help others who were in crisis and using drugs. Little did I know how that hotline training would be a foundation for some other things that would come in the future.

I actually didn’t know what to do with my life at that point.

The world, as I knew it, was not working out for me. At one point, as I was hitch hiking up the coast, I got picked up by a group of brothers who were going to see their mother in a cabin up on the coast of California.

We met up with her, and after meeting her, we headed next door and we all partied a little more then fell asleep.

The next morning, we woke up to what sounded like a loud fire cracker that exploded next door. The guys looked around and then decided to check on their mom. She had put a 22 pistol to her head and shot herself, and was dead.

The police came and questioned all of us, and of course I wasn’t a member of the family, just a hitch-hiker, so they questioned me for hours. After getting grilled, they let me go, and there I was, in shock with no place to go.

It was at that time that I knew the lifestyle I was leading was a dead end street, but I didn’t know what to do. I had just turned 18.

I talked to my friend Brian, and he had just lost both his mother and father in an accident, and he wanted to go to Hawaii, so with 10 dollars in my pocket after buying a plane ticket, we went to Oahu, and were basically homeless street people. I slept in the park, on people couches, and anywhere I could.

It was at that time I met some people on the street handing out those little green New Testament and Psalms bibles one evening. This really smiley Jesus person started to hand me one of these bibles, and as he did, he said that he felt that I was “one of God’s sheep.”

I didn’t really know what this guy meant by “one of God’s sheep” but he was nice and I took the little bible and went back to the place that I had found to stay. At that time Brian and I has gotten separated, and this was before cellphones (can you believe that?) so I had no idea where he was, but I had a little bit of pot on me so I rolled me a big joint and fired it up.

As I was smoking, I noticed something odd.

I wasn’t getting high. As a matter of fact, nothing was happening, A few minutes later, I experienced an intense loneliness instead. It felt like I had been running from something and I was alone and tired. I couldn’t hold it back any more, I started to weep uncontrollably. I didn’t know what was happening to me, it just felt like I was so alone, abandoned and alone.

I picked up the little new testament and psalms and basically fell to my knees with a prayer. I cried out and asked God, “if you are really real you have to show me right now!”

With that, I opened up that bible to wherever it opened to, and I read these words out of the gospel of John chapter 10 verses 27-30

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all ; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”

You don’t know what it is like to be in that moment until you are in that moment. So real. So personal . I felt like Jesus was in that room with me, and I didn’t feel alone for the first time in many years.

I remember feeling like I had been running from God, so while I was on my knees, I decided to take out a pretend white flag of surrender, and began to wave this imaginary flag above my head, and through the tears, I surrendered, the best way I knew, to the Good Shepherd.

He came to me in that moment. He has never left. I became a Jesus follower and I still am.

There have been many things that have happened since that day.

I joined a cult.

I got out of a cult.

I found an old friend I partied with and found out that he became a Jesus follower too.

Moved from Hawaii to Santa Rosa, and joined a church there. Got married had five beautiful children. Got divorced. Got mad at God. Backslid, but still read my bible everyday. (Good habit)

I met Malia at my 20th high school reunion.

We have been together 22 years and I have three grand-kids and one on the way. I have had health challenges, financial issues, and many dark times along the way, and all I can say is that I have seen the Lord. He has been so faithful to me. He is bigger than my weakest moments, and His love has covered a multitude of my darkest and most degrading moments along the way.

These verses out of Psalm 37: 23-28 say it so well.

My story continues. Everyday I get up and find out that His mercies are new every morning. I have peace. No longer running but safe and secure. Still have questions. Many of them, but my soul is satisfied in knowing the one who awesomely and wonderfully made me in the womb of an unwed mother. No shame for either of us, for that has been wiped away by a God who does not do shame.

I love God, I love Jesus and the Holy Spirit who reveals Him and empowers me. It’s personal, and yet it’s public, because the love of God compels me to share this good news with you. I love my family and when I get a more current picture of all of us, I’ll post it.

Currently I go to RealtySF Church in San Francisco.

And… back to the “hotline training” that I had to do in order to get my arrest record expunged…

I have had a heart for seeing people healed from their past trauma and set free from the things that would drive them to hurt themselves. My wife Malia and I have been trained in a particular “prayer counseling” approach called “The Immanuel Approach” or the Immanuel a Practicum and help people get free from the things that would get in the way of their intimacy with God. Our website ImmanuelSF.com is available for you to see what is going on here in the San Francisco area.

Your faith journey is different than mine. I respect that difference, and if there is anything that I, or my wife Malia, can do to help you along your journey, please do not hesitate to reach out on Facebook

Blessings to you on your journey,

 

David C. McKinney