My Spiritual Journey
Every spiritual journey begins with a whisper from God, and mine started in the quiet places where my soul first learned to listen.
My spiritual journey began long before I understood its purpose. I was born and raised in the Lutheran Church, shaped by a religious home and taught the rituals of faith. But nothing in my upbringing prepared me for what happened when I was seventeen years old. On July 10, 1993, I encountered God in a way that shook my soul awake. It was not theory, not doctrine, not tradition. It was a love that pierced through every layer of fear and uncertainty and marked me forever. From that moment on, my only desire was to seek the God who met me and to serve Him with my whole life.
I pursued that calling with everything in me, earning my Bachelor’s degree in Youth Ministry and Urban Studies from Moody Bible Institute in downtown Chicago in 1996. I believed I understood purpose. I believed I knew my path. But God had a deeper journey waiting for me, one that would confront the very fabric of my identity, my privilege, and my understanding of humanity.
On Sunday, March 13, while walking back from church on Chicago’s west side, I was attacked by five young Black men. Their blows struck my body, but their words struck my soul. That moment altered the entire course of my life. Instead of running from the pain, I felt compelled to walk toward the people who had wounded me. For the next thirty years, I lived and served among the very communities society calls Black, where I came face to face with the reality of racism, the weight of my own white privilege, and the deep spiritual brokenness that fuels hatred.
That journey stirred questions inside me that religion alone could not answer. I cried out to God for clarity. I asked Him to reveal the root of the hatred I was seeing, the suffering I was witnessing, and the history that had been twisted for generations against our Black family.
Everything changed again in August of 2014. In a moment of profound clarity, I heard God speak into my spirit about the very people I had spent decades walking beside, my Black family. He revealed that they are the true Hebrews of the Bible. That revelation shattered everything I thought I understood and forced me to release doctrines I had accepted without ever questioning. It opened a door to a deeper truth, one that demanded humility, courage, and the childlike openness Jesus spoke of in Matthew 18:3. I had to unlearn, relearn, and pursue truth even when it confronted my religious foundation and challenged the norms of the world around me.My spiritual journey has led me into books I once feared to open, truths I once resisted, and revelations that have drawn me closer to God than I have ever been. This path has reshaped me, refined me, and taught me to listen with my spirit, and not what has been put in my mind. I have learned that the journey toward truth is lifelong, but a good tree produces good fruit. If my fruit is good, it is only because His voice is shaping me into a good tree.
This spiritual walk continues to change me, strengthen me, and pull me closer to the heart of God. And I know that every step is guided by a purpose far greater than anything I could have imagined at seventeen, when that first touch of God lit the fire that still burns in me today.
At seventeen, I felt the unmistakable touch of God—and with it, a divine calling that would chart the course of my life. But I never expected this path would lead me into a three-decade battle—not with sin or unbelief, but with shame. Shame not for what I did, but for who I was.
At the center was my sexual identity, the one thing I was to
At seventeen, I felt the unmistakable touch of God—and with it, a divine calling that would chart the course of my life. But I never expected this path would lead me into a three-decade battle—not with sin or unbelief, but with shame. Shame not for what I did, but for who I was.
At the center was my sexual identity, the one thing I was told made me unworthy of God’s love and unfit for His calling.
My Journey Through Shame is more than a memoir—it’s a soul-deep confession, a spiritual odyssey through the parts of ourselves most people try to bury. It’s the story of what happens when God’s unmistakable calling collides with religious rejection. Of what it means to be anointed yet alienated. Gifted, yet deeply afraid.
I was raised in a world—and a church—that taught me to be ashamed of who I was, even as I tried to love the God who had clearly chosen me.
Through childhood trauma, religious indoctrination, spiritual awakenings, and undeniable encounters with the Divine, I lived suspended in a relentless tug-of-war between the voice of God’s love and the voice of the church’s condemnation. And for years, I believed the latter. I wore their shame like grave clothes. I buried myself under their judgments.
But God never left me there.
Across decades of wrestling, weeping, and walking through fire, I discovered something radical: in every season, I wasn’t met with wrath, but with the fierce, unshakable love of a God who refused to let shame have the final word.
This book is for those who never fit the mold. For the judged and hated. For anyone who’s been told they were too flawed to be used by God. It’s for those carrying secret shame, aching not just for forgiveness but for freedom.
Because shame cannot survive where truth takes root.
And the truth is: You were never disqualified. You were never forsaken. You were never unworthy. Not for a single moment.
Within this book unfolds a revelation that profoundly altered the course of my life. A voice, transcending the everyday realm, proclaimed, "They are not cursed; they are my chosen, precious children." This epiphany revealed the deep-seated roots of the hostility faced by my Black family, uncovering a profound truth: my thirty years in Ch
Within this book unfolds a revelation that profoundly altered the course of my life. A voice, transcending the everyday realm, proclaimed, "They are not cursed; they are my chosen, precious children." This epiphany revealed the deep-seated roots of the hostility faced by my Black family, uncovering a profound truth: my thirty years in Chicago were not merely spent living among a community labeled as Black or African American. Beyond mere labels like 'Negroes' or 'People of Color,' I was, in reality, amidst the Hebrews.
This narrative is not just a mere assembly of words. It is a voyage of discovery, a clarion call to awaken from a deep slumber of conventional narratives. Each page presents a challenge, beckoning the reader to embark on an exploration that traverses beyond comfort zones, urging a confrontation with truths long buried and deliberately obscured.
The contents of this book are not meant for passive consumption but are a catalyst for transformation. They provoke a re-examination of deeply held beliefs, nudging the reader towards a journey of enlightenment. As you turn each page, it is an invitation to embark on a pivotal journey, one that took years to culminate. This journey promises to pave the way for an awakening to the identity of the newly resurfaced Hebrews, offering a fresh lens through which to view the world and our place within it.
Join me on this enlightening expedition, not just as a reader, but as a fellow traveler seeking truth and understanding. Embrace the discomfort that accompanies learning, and allow it to forge a path to a more profound, more informed perception of history, identity, and destiny.
What they are saying...
