Running From Nineveh, Returning to Rehoboth: A Story of Faith and Finance

It may have started the day I looked up, and said, “I’m grateful for what you’ve given me, but even if You take it all, thank you; I’m restless now that everyone’s gone. I’m available. Use me.”

The prophet Isaiah said, “Here am I, send me,” before knowing that his calling would be hard, heartbreaking, lonely, and costly. I should have known.

I’d been operating two recovery homes when I had my Jonah moment in 2023, deciding I’d had enough of nasty politics in Georgetown and the hate that inevitably finds its target in anything good. I wasn’t trying to preach—just tired of the constant noise and betrayal that comes when you’re doing something that matters. So, I listed my flagship sober-living house for sale and tried to run. Georgetown was my Nineveh; Lewes, my Joppa; and North Carolina looked like Tarshish.

But the storms came—and their names were Dupree and Rosylyn Johnson.

In the guise of a faith-based church, they said they wanted to continue a similar mission and promised to interview some of our residents to stay on. However, their financing terms required that I close the business at that address, remove the residents and furniture, deliver the house vacant, and take down my website. I did all of it—at tremendous loss of revenue and expense. Two days prior to settlement, they walked away.

This was a financial disaster. I rushed to find a rental home to prevent the last few residents from becoming homeless and had to spend tens of thousands of dollars to make it ready.  Until then, I had funded everything with my own money, and that house sale was supposed to make me catch up. Instead, I was back in the hole—buying materials on personal credit cards, trying to keep the mission alive.

It became clear God was saying, “I told you this is where you’re supposed to be. You didn’t like being responsible for nine people? Here’s 32, soon to be *42.”

The same Sunday we let people into the new house, a youth pastor at church told the story of a child walking along a beach where countless starfish had washed ashore. A man asked him what he was doing, and he replied, “I’m saving the starfish.” The man said, “Little boy, there must be millions of them, what difference can you possibly make?” The child smiled, picked up another one, threw it back into the ocean, and said, “Made a difference to that one.”  That changed everything. I needed to be reminded of why I was doing what I do!

Success can look like failure if you measure it upside down. A major-league baseball player who strikes out seven of ten times is a Hall of Fame hitter with a .300 batting average. If Franklin Graham filled a stadium of 100,000 guests and only one person came forward—in light of eternity—that’s a huge success. The angels rejoice! “I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” — Luke 15:10

After all this, I lived week-to-week, collecting fees and paying bills. Through providence and family loans, we expanded to five houses—three leased and two owned—and I didn’t take a paycheck.

I learned to accept and ignore the lies and rumors that spread throughout the recovery community. Faith and a focus on the individual successes carried me. I wasn’t making money, but I was saving lives.

I was juggling high-interest credit cards filled with business-building materials and making payments to banks and landlords—somehow never late, yet somehow always near zero. God had taken me quite literally. I was completely reliant on His provision; but when God gives you a directive, He often brings people to you with the tools to make it happen or the gifts to encourage you along the way.

Dan is a former NYPD officer, author, and founder of Zitofsky Capital Management—he teaches others how to invest in real estate and build wealth by being their own bank. As New Yorkers we connected immediately, and the laughs came easily as we met regularly to unwind and talk over coffee.

In New York I had owned a PR firm with international corporate clients and hung out with celebrity friends in my 38th-floor apartment—now all I could do with Dan’s financial advice was share in his success and be happy for him and his wife, Dawn.

Meanwhile, I reached out to every lender that promised consolidation loans—it seemed there was help for every situation except mine. My score was good, no lates, but utilization was at 90% or higher. When taxes or utilities came due that were more than the week’s revenue, it was hard. And it only took two or three residents to fall behind before I was another thousand dollars in the hole.

My savings had dried up—mostly from helping others over time. Still, I kept going. We won a $10,000 grant from the opioid recovery fund, but that’s been another tease—announced in July, not a dime received. I met with Jack Riddle at Community Bank about providing micro-loans to residents or sponsoring our radio show. He was supportive, but even their flexible programs couldn’t fit us in the box.

Meanwhile, Dan listened—and grew restless. He wanted to help, but we hadn’t yet connected the dots. His success depended on low-risk, high-return investments for his clients. His reputation depended on it.

When an opportunity opened in Rehoboth, I made a desperate attempt to restructure by selling my property on Railroad Avenue. I’d sell to an investor and lease it back so residents could stay while freeing equity to rebuild. I wasn’t thrilled to lose the house, but treading water is exhausting.  Who do you think are the fittest athletes? My first guess was soccer—or maybe hockey. But they both get breaks. It’s the water polo player. If they take a break, they drown. 

Dan and his team find deals and make them available to his network of investors. He made a few calls and found someone willing. I had equity—about $140K on New Street and $90K on Railroad. Sounds like a lot, but second-position loans or HELOCs weren’t options because the LTV would be too high—just like my credit-card problem.

I was ashamed and confused. I only needed $85K—about the price of a moderately nice truck. I was a good risk and couldn’t see why someone couldn’t just write a check and let me pay it back weekly or monthly at a fair return.

As the appraisal came in at full value, we realized this deal might not be the win-win we’d hoped. Discouraged, I was ready to go back to treading water, but I’d already committed to Rehoboth, which now felt like a heavy weight.

Dan and I sat down again for coffee. Dan scribbled numbers on a pad, and then he had an aha! moment. Combining both owned properties changed everything—the math worked.

What most products out there lack is often the most important variable: the entrepreneur himself. A bank can loan a million dollars to three people with identical financials—one will fold, one will continue to tread water, and one will thrive.

I was fortunate. Dan could say to his investors, “I see the numbers—they’re not typical, but I see what he’s doing. It needs to be done, and he’s the one who can do it.” That’s a private investor. That’s different than a bank.

From where I sat, Dan’s scribble pad was upside down, but my eyes fell on 4031. I can recite dozens more Bible verses than I can tell you where to find them, but Isaiah 40:31 happens to be one.   At Christian Grace homes, our door codes are Bible verses. “Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles…” — Isaiah 40:31

I suddenly saw it wasn’t about the amount I thought I’d need to catch up; it was all about the position I’d be in to do more!

Dan told me to pull everything together—business plan, books, proposal—and thanks to about a hundred hours with ChatGPT (which is like arguing with your ex-wife for days), I did.  Dan made a few more calls, lined things up, and this weekend we sat in the office of our favorite real-estate attorneys—Wolfe & Associates—and closed on a cross-collateralized deal that no traditional lender could have pulled off without someone like Dan willing to make it happen.

There are great people like Jack at Community Bank, and even some hard-money lenders who understand the business and the mission, but don’t consider the number-one variable—you! Dan worked the numbers with his eyes on the person (me) and the purpose (God).

Now, my monthly cash flow has nearly tripled, my revolving debt is near zero, and we’re back to expanding the mission.

For creative real-estate strategies with personal service contact Dan Zitofsky at Zitofsky Capital Management. And if you want a real-estate attorney that’s responsive, professional, and convenient, with offices in Rehoboth, Middletown, and Dover—call Wolfe & Associates.If you—or someone you love—needs a fresh start in sober living, visit christian-grace.com.