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I was born and raised in Long Island, New York. My mother is the first daughter of an orthodox rabbi. My father is the first son of a Scottish and Irish Catholic family. We were raised in a secular home. Holidays were celebrated with the family, yet we had no desire to know God.

When I was ten years old, my parents hired a Bar Mitzvah teacher to come and teach me Hebrew. She was a Messianic Jew. My mother was bothered by her faith but allowed her to come into our home with the agreement that she would teach us Hebrew and not speak to us about Y'shua (Jesus). Our teacher agreed. Our family attended her wedding, which was a Messianic Jewish celebration. My mother covered my eyes as they danced and sung praise to Y'shua. About halfway through my Hebrew training, our teacher developed cancer. As a result, my Hebrew classes were put on hold. 

With no more Hebrew lessons to attend, I resumed playing kickball with my friends in the street. Being Jewish was never a big deal to me. The only time I thought about it was when I would meet other kids who picked on me because I was Jewish.

When I was thirteen, my parents divorced. At that age, I was plagued with depression. I had faced several deaths in my family that year, the loss of all my friends and the destruction of my parents' marriage. As my teen years went on, I became increasingly entangled in drugs and sex. I eventually was caught dealing drugs off campus and narrowly escaped arrest.

I was sixteen, and three years of drug use had taken its effect on my mind. After a week of sobriety, I realized how sharp my mind could be and how dull my friends had become from consistently getting high. This made me want to quit. I also met a Muslim girl who was not interested in drugs. We dated for four years. She even lived with me in my mother's house for about a year. I got involved with an aviation program in my high school, where I excelled. Upon high school graduation, I went to college for aviation and my girlfriend went to a school upstate, a divide which brought about the end of our relationship.

Then, during the week of September 11, 2001, I met a beautiful girl in the campus coffee shop, named Val. We began a friendship and had long conversations. I learned that she was a Christian, born in India. Both of her parents were missionaries. She quickly learned that I was not open to being converted. Yet, there was something about her life and her family that was appealing to me. They seemed to be tapped into a level of meaning, purpose and fulfillment that were very foreign to me. I bought my first Bible at the campus bookstore and started to read it from the beginning. I made a transition from being an atheist to being a skeptic.

I occasionally attended prayer services at her parents' home. I was amazed by the answers they received to prayer. During this season, Val had met with one of my aviation professors, who was also a Christian. They prayed for my relationship with God.

As time went on in our relationship, a tension grew. Val was not interested in dating someone without the possibility of marriage. I had no plans on getting married anytime soon. At other times, I thought that Val was such a great girl that I should go ahead and marry her. My changing mind caused a great amount of pain in our relationship.

At this point, we had been dating for a year and a half. I was proud of myself because I had not been unfaithful to Val with any other girls. However, I did regularly indulge in pornography, as I had since childhood. I had never seen it as a problem until now, but I thought I should tell Val about it. One night, after her parents were asleep, we sat down to talk. I confessed my use of pornography and thought she would be sympathetic. She was not! Confused, I told her she could slap me across the face if she wanted to. She immediately took advantage of the offer. She kicked me out of her house and told me not to return. It was June 18, 2003.

I drove my sports car back home, weeping. I lived with my mother at the time. When I arrived home, it was nearly 3 am. I quietly opened the kitchen cabinet and pulled out the largest Hefty trash bag I could find. I went down to my room and filled the bag with pornographic magazines and videos. I threw the bag over my back and carried it out into the rain. Fortunately, the garbage cans were going to be picked up later that morning. One of them had room for the bag. It must have weighed as much as me!

Instinctively, I kneeled on my mother's front lawn and asked God to forgive me. I invited Jesus to be my Savior. At that moment, I felt a huge burden lift off of me. I was a new man. I cried tears of joy as the rain came down. When I opened my eyes, I spotted a familiar stray cat. Usually, I would kick the cat so it would stay away from my home. Suddenly, I did not feel the same anger. I thought I should try showing mercy. I went inside my mother's house and quietly pulled out a container of potato salad from the fridge. I went outside and placed it before the cat. After eating, the cat circled me a few times as I pet it. Suddenly, she dug her claws into my arm. I shook her off and stood up. I realized I was standing in the middle of the street in the rain at 3 am having a strange moment with a cat. I decided to go back inside.

After showering, I was ready for bed. Yet, I thought I should call Val and tell her what had just happened to me. She eventually picked up the phoneand informed me that her family was going to a funeral in Philadelphia the following day. I could join her if I wished. I've never been so happy to attend a funeral! The funeral was for an African American preacher who had lost her husband. I couldn't believe the compassion that she showed to me in spite of her own loss.

When we arrived back at Val's home, there was a message from my mother on Val's telephone. She was crying. Keith, my best friend through all of my childhood, had committed suicide the previous night, the same night that I had pledged my life to Jesus. I attended his funeral the next day. Those who used to beat me up when I was younger came and wept on my shoulder. It was obvious that they had become drug addicts. This was my first ministry opportunity.

Many other ministry doors opened quickly. I was elected to lead the campus Christian Fellowship. We saw wonderful growth and lives changed. I began to write gospel music and lead worship at Val's church and in her parents' ministry. I graduated with honors and received my degree in aviation administration, but it was clear that God wanted me to devote myself to ministry. Val and I married and then moved to Missouri, where I attended seminary and she finished her biology degree.  It turned out that one of my seminary professors had also taught my former Hebrew teacher many years before.   I found out that she had recovered from cancer and had been praying for my salvation for years!

While in Missouri, Val and I served in ministry together and had two children. We currently live in Southern California, where we are planting a Jewish-Gentile congregation.

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