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

It may have all started the day I stood on the deck in the yard of my beautiful 4,000-square-foot Milton home on 3.5 acres, looked up and said something I thought was noble:

“God, I’m available. Use me. Even if you take all this from me, I’m Yours—let me serve You.”

Warning: if you ever say that to God, you ‘d better mean it. 

I didn’t realize it then, but I was echoing the prophet Isaiah’s words: “Here am I, send me.” He said it after glimpsing God’s glory—before knowing that his calling would be hard, lonely, and costly.

The Long Road from “Success” to Service

I had a nice car, some savings from a business sale, and a sense of stability. Then came a decade of curveballs that would test any faith, balance sheet, or blood pressure.

Ten years ago, a “family friend” embezzled over $300,000 from my company, Visiting Angels, leaving me holding the bag for payroll taxes she pocketed. Later, a dishonest couple walked away from a home sale two days before closing, costing me dearly.

And yet, I stayed afloat. I built. I adapted. My credit score stayed strong, my payments stayed current, and somehow—despite the hits—Christian Grace Sober Living was born and began to grow.

But here’s the irony: every bank, every “small-business consolidation loan,” every smiling online lender that promised to help… turned me down.

Why?

“High utilization,” they said.

Well, duh. That was the whole point. I’d been bootstrapping a mission that banks couldn’t fit into a box.

A Jonah Moment in Georgetown

I had my Jonah moment in 2023.   I’d had enough of the local politics in the town of Georgetown and the hate that inevitably finds its target in anything good. If you haven’t noticed, we’re in the late stages of a spiritual war; if you watch the news and can’t see it, you’re one of those Jesus said have eyes but don’t see. I was just tired of the constant choas and betrayal that comes when you’re doing something that matters. And so I put my house up for sale and tried to run.
Georgetown was my Nineveh; Lewes, my Joppa; and North Carolina looked like Tarshish.

Then came the storms - 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 buy my flagship house.  Their 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. When the inspection report came back days before closing, I had every item corrected, not just the necessary ones. Two days prior to settlement, they walked away.

The fallout was brutal: I scrambled to house displaced residents, spent over $15,000 setting up new housing, and watched the hole deepen. 

But God speaks. “The heavens declare the glory of God so man is without excuse.” He also speaks to us personally:

The same Sunday we let people into the new house, a youth pastor was giving the sermon while the seior pastor was travelling. The Youth pastor told the story of a child walking along the beach where countless starfish had washed ashore.  He was picking them up and tossing them gently back into the ocean.  
A man stops to ask the child what he was doing, and the boy says, “I’m saving starfish. They die ooutof the water inthe sun.”
”The man said, “But there are so many,! What difference can you possibly make?”
 The child pauses, smiles and picked up another one, threw it back, and said, “I made a difference to that one.”

The one who created us, knows just what to say, and when and how to say it.  Through my tears, I understood completely.  
God said, “I told you this is where you’re supposed to be. You didn’t like being responsible for nine people?  Prepare! Here’s thirty-two, soon to be *forty-two.” 

Faith, Fix-and-Flips, and Treading Water

Week to week, I kept the lights on. I borrowed from family, juggled cards filled with building materials, and kept every payment current—even if that meant watching my balance hover near zero.

We grew to five homes—three leased, two owned—and served more people than ever. I took no paycheck.

Grants like the much-touted $10,000 opioid recovery fund turned out to be more of a tease than a lifeline (announced in July, still waiting).

And yet, amid the grind, there were bright spots—like my friendship with Dan Zitofsky, a former NYPD officer turned real-estate investor and national speaker.

God’s Appointments Aren’t Coincidences

Dan and I met like all good New Yorkers who somehow wash up in Sussex County—fast talkers with coffee and sarcasm in common.

When I later walked into a local church and saw him and his wife, Dawn, sitting there, I laughed out loud. Sometimes God doesn’t whisper—He uses exclamation points.

Dan runs Zitofsky Capital Management, teaching others to invest creatively and “be their own bank.” I, on the other hand, was treading water—barely.

Still, Dan listened. He saw past the numbers to the mission.

Treading Water 

What kind of athlete do you think is in the best shape? 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.

That’s what running Christian Grace felt like. Every week, money in, money out, never late, but ever ahead.

Despite strong equity—over $140K in one home, $90K in another—no lender would touch me. The loan-to-value was too high, loan utilization was. too high, the model too unique.

All I needed was $85,000—less than the price of a decent pickup truck—to consolidate, reset, and grow. Yet the doors stayed closed.

The Breakthrough

Then came a conversation that changed everything.

Over coffee at Arena’s Five Points, Dan scribbled figures on a napkin. He realized that by cross-collateralizing both properties, the formula worked. It wasn’t about the amount—it was about the position.

That “aha” moment opened a path no bank could see.

After a few more meetings (and about a hundred hours arguing with ChatGPT—which, for the record, is like debating your ex-wife), I had a lender-ready plan.

Dan made a few calls. The deal came together.

We closed—of course—at the beautiful Wolfe & Associates office in Rehoboth, where Erica Wolfe has managed to make her law firm feel like a day spa. (I told her she could double her income: “Close your HELOC and get a facial!”)

And Just Like That… the Storm Calmed

Today, thanks to that creative restructuring:

• My monthly cash flow has nearly tripled,
• My revolving debt is near zero, and
• Christian Grace is positioned to expand its mission again—this time on solid footing.

It’s a story of faith meeting finance, of God working through good people, and of never letting shame, exhaustion, or a bank’s checkbox define your worth.

The Takeaway

If Franklin Graham filled a stadium of 100,000 and only one person came forward—that’s success in light of eternity.

If you’re called to something, keep walking (or swimming). God moves when we get out of the way.

Connect the Dots

• Looking for recovery housing or sober living in Delaware? Visit Christian Grace Sober Living.
• Want to explore creative real-estate financing or investment strategies? Talk to Dan Zitofsky at Zitofsky Capital Management.
• Need a real-estate attorney with offices in Rehoboth, Middletown, and Dover—and the vibe of a spa? Call Wolfe & Associates.

And if you—or someone you love—needs a fresh start in life, recovery, or finances…
remember: the storm isn’t meant to drown you.
Sometimes, it’s just steering you back to Nineveh.