My first typewriter was “donated” to me by my step-father, who found it in some storage closet in the office of his auto parts store, probably hidden behind a case of Pennzoil and un-sold Christmas tree air fresheners. It was a large, clunky job as heavy as a Volkswagen with manual type that took the strength of Hercules to push the keys. And it only typed in caps (yes, this thing has NO lowercase letters). I remember saving money earned bussing tables to buy my very first typewriter, an Olivetti Selectric. It was the high-tech kind with the Correct-O-Tape ribbon and push-button carriage return…$499.99 at Sears. Nowadays you can buy a tablet for that kind of money, one that types telepathically, does your spelling for you, slices, dices, and makes Julianne salads.
I’m not sure what most people thought about my prospects as an aspiring writer, what, with being a protégé of that great literary genius Alfred E. Nueman of Mad Magazine. For those not acquainted with A.E Nueman, he’s the freckle-faced “What, Me Worry?” Kid and the “cover girl” of Mad Magazine. He was also the 1970’s kid-popularity equivalent of Justin Bieber. But eventually I discovered classic authors of young adult fiction. S.E. Hinton became my favorite author, and the Outsiders was the great inspiration for me to start writing gang and crime-related books. I did not realize at the time that this would be the foundation for my ministry 33 years later.
I will never forget the day when I first heard Roger Munchian’s testimony. I was sitting in the congregation at my church, Christ’s Church of the Valley (CCV), and he was on stage, Pastor Don Wilson interviewing him about his past life of drugs, violence, and death. He was so knew to the scene at that time that Dr. Wilson mispronounced his name, “Roger Moonshon”. Wilson asked him, “How in the world did you begin to change? What was it that got your attention?”
Munchian responded: “I never thought that I could shake off my bad habits. But you know, God is good. As stubborn as I was, stuck on self, He got ahold of me through a car accident. I was driving drunk, and I was told that I killed two ladies that were in my vehicle. I was charged with vehicle homicide…two counts. I was being booked at Madison Street Jail and strapped in the ‘psycho chair’. I struggled all night, fighting the situation, and I saw my life basically being taken out of my hands in a moment’s time. I was brought up in an Orthodox religion, and the only god I knew was three letters: G.O.D. But I turned to Him and I asked Him if you are real—I need your help. I had reached my end. My back was against the wall…”
But it was the following words gave sent chills throughout the auditorium: “Immediately the next day, I get a reduction in sentence to two-count’s aggravated assault with a deadly weapon because they found life in the ladies, even though they were in comas. So that to me was an answer to prayer. I knew that something had happened—that God had done a miracle in my life.”
I never anticipated that our paths would cross. However, several months later I joined a neighborhood group through CCV and every week there was this short Armenian man who shared his powerful testimony about his former lifestyle as a drug lord. One evening he shared his vision that his life-story would one day become a book or movie, I realized who he was. Being an un-published writer, it took tremendous courage for me to approach him. I figured with such a powerful testimony, certainly he had professional writers lined up to write his story. But he informed me that one writer had made an attempt at it, but abandoned the project. He gave me a copy of the partially-written manuscript and asked me to review it and let him know if I was interested.
Economically we were reaching the financial meltdown of 2008, my business as an Executive Recruiter was failing, we were about to lose our home, and I knew my marriage was heading for hard times. “What, Me Worry?”
Yes, Me very worried. Me very worried.
Despite the economic mess facing me, I wasn’t looking for a financial windfall or another means of income. I was simply passionate about the gift God had given me as a writer, and I wanted to give it all back to Him.
I took the thin manuscript with me on vacation to the Caribbean. Pressure in my business and home was reaching maximum load, and I needed a retreat to sit back and absorb the project. Although the manuscript was not my style of writing, it gave me details of Roger’s story that I did not have from listening to him talk in group and on stage. Sitting in the tranquility of the lapping waves and surrounded by white beach sand, a sudden peace came over me. Suddenly the worries of my collapsing business, my struggling marriage, and our financial crisis were worlds away. God gave me a vision not only for writing Roger’s book—but for surrendering the writing talents back to Him.
When I returned from vacation, I immediately started the project.
What, Me Worry?
Of course not. God had given me a vision and a mission—and I was determined to conquer it.
Little did I know that the enemy also had plans. The enemy did not want for this powerful testimony of God’s grace and hope for the lost to be told. I soon found out that the enemy wanted me to worry…yes, me worry…and he was about to give me plenty to worry about.
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