Redeem The Dream: The Song In Your Heart

By Daniel Marsden and Tulio Tourinho

Hi, my name is Dan. When I landed in Portland, Oregon at the age of sixteen with a one-way ticket from Düsseldorf, Germany, life changed in an instant. The family who committed to picking me up and hosting me did not show up at the airport. I had to learn to rely on God for my survival as returning to Germany was not an acceptable option. Redeem The Dream is a story of the years to follow. It is a testimony to God's faithfulness in every circumstance. He will work all things out for the good of those who love him. Regardless of where you may find yourself in life, this book will encourage you to process your journey, move forward with hope, and believe in your calling. Questions for personal reflection at the end of each chapter are designed to assist you in connecting the dots of your own story. There is always hope!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jan 1, 1900
• ISBN: 9798350918465

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Copyright 2023

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 979-8-35091-114-5 (print)

ISBN: 979-8-35091-846-5 (eBook)

Dedication

One of my mentors once told me that graveyards are the richest places on earth. They are full of unfulfilled dreams, books that were never written, ideas that were never acted on and relationships that were never pursued. Truth be told, I had wanted to write this book since graduating from college in 2004. As years passed, countless people I encountered in various parts of the country and the world would tell me, You should write a book. When I finally got serious in 2018, I wrote a proposal to sell to publishers. The focus became marketability and platform, which spun me in a whirlwind of wanting to please with some great insight as opposed to simply telling my story—when it was precisely the story that people found valuable. All of us have a story worth sharing. One that God wants to use. I dedicate this book to my wife, Ariane; our beautiful children and all the overcomers in the world. It is my prayer that the experiences I share, along with the reflections upon them, will encourage you along your journey and give you the courage to stand. There is always hope.

Some of the names in this book have been changed.

Table of Contents

Foreword: Sgt. Tulio Tourinho

Part One: Coming to America

Chapter One: Not So Welcome

Chapter Two: Miracles in the Struggle

Chapter Three: Tested, Rejected and Accepted

Chapter Four: Travel, Daddy Issues and Lessons Learned

Chapter Five: The Power of Friends

Chapter Six: New Perspectives

Chapter Seven: Neatly Wrapped Assault and Happy Ending

Part Two: Hoop Dreams and Real Life

Chapter Eight: Stats

Chapter Nine: Bad Decisions and Beautiful Blessings

Chapter Ten: Lost and Confused

Chapter Eleven: When You Are Hungry, Nothing Else Matters

Part Three: New Beginnings

Chapter Twelve: Meant to Be

Chapter Thirteen: Redeem the Dream

Chapter Fourteen: Death and Resurrection of a Dream

Foreword

As a police officer with nearly two decades of seeing and hearing the darkest parts of humanity, coupled with two deployments into combat zones with the Army as a paratrooper, few things cause my mouth to drop open in astonishment. Meeting Daniel for the first time, as a probationary police officer on my platoon, left me in awe, for the first time in a long time.

He appeared to be an old soul, one battered and weathered by life, but I couldn’t quite put a finger on it; call it cop’s intuition. But then, as if gently prompted by a whispering angel, one of my officers asked me if I had heard Daniel’s story. With every word rolling off his tongue, in nearly a cathartic state, I sat there soaking it all in, incredulous of most of it, as if listening to a fantastic storyteller, but one who could not have possibly gone through so much in a single lifetime, let alone in just a decade or so.

Yet, it was true; all of it. What Daniel Marsden endured in life could only happen with divine intervention. His heart was pure, his motives were righteous, and his actions were a testament to his faith. I shall never make a statement filled with hubris by saying I know and understand God, but if there is any theological construct where one could say that God took care of Daniel because he deserved it, this would be it.

As I read through his manuscript I was reminded over and over about our conversation. Watching Daniel tell his story, seeing the pain in his eyes at moments, and a smile break through at others, was not only telling, but incredibly uplifting. In the end, God delivers to Daniel victory, and his testimony becomes this incredible journey of hardship, perseverance and faith.

As you read this incredible book, I hope you will journey with Daniel, imagining you are a young person being raised in an already difficult reality back home, traveling alone and with very little to a strange country, afraid, nervous but hopeful, clinging to your faith knowing your life depends on it, being scorned, abused, disappointed, but never capitulating to the reality around you, instead opting to trust God to deliver to you a better future. This uplifting book will show you some ugliness, but on the other side of those dark moments you will find the light of God shining through, carrying Daniel toward His perfect plan for him, a plan that would allow Daniel to be that light for others.

And therein lies the moral of this incredible journey: God is good, all the time. Even in desperate times, even when our limited and feeble minds cannot comprehend the whys of God, He is still good, all the time. When we place our faith in Him, and not on people or things, we are left with God’s Grace for us, which will always be sufficient and satisfying. I fell in love with Daniel’s faith, and so will you.

All Daniel had was a mustard seed. God accepted his tiny offering and made it into an unimaginable blessing.

May you be uplifted and blessed reading this book. May you take possession of your mustard seed, find the quiet resolve to humbly deliver it into God’s hand, and watch it become something incredible, something only God could do. With faith all things are possible… just ask Daniel.

—Sgt. Tulio Tourinho, Louisville Metro Police Department

Part One:

Coming to America

Chapter One:

Not So Welcome

I am not your mom...finding a home is something you will have to do on your own. This was not what I expected to hear two weeks before taking a one-way flight from Düsseldorf, Germany to Portland, Oregon. Rob and I met the previous summer in 1996, when I had the opportunity to play on a basketball tour team comprised of youth players from Germany as well as war-torn Croatia. We traveled to Oregon and California where we scrimmaged school teams. Beyond that we took part in two week long camps. Rob directed the Larry Steel Basketball Camp at the time. He was one of six coaches I connected with that summer. When I returned home, I wrote each of these guys a handwritten letter asking them to help me move to the United States. My plan was to finish my junior and senior year of high school in America to set myself up for a chance to play college basketball. Ironically, the only one who took the time to write back was Rob. We stayed in touch every few weeks during my tenth-grade school year that followed.

With each conversation he assured me of his promise to locate a high school for me to attend, as well as an appropriate living situation. From what I can recall, Rob only spoke to my mother once very briefly when I handed the phone to her during one of our talks. This was several months prior to my move to the United States. Now, over twenty-three years removed, the only explanation I can come up with for him turning his back on me when push came to shove was that he never thought I was going to follow through on my plan. We spent hours discussing my move to Oregon, but it apparently was nothing but a game to him.

UHHM...Okay. Well, do you at least know of someone that I may be able to stay with, because I am moving to America regardless was the best response I could conjure up as anxiety and doubt began to rise within me. Only a few weeks before, during our last conversation, Rob challenged me to buy my plane ticket and he would take care of the rest, meaning secure a living situation for me. As fate would have it, my bicycle was stolen, and I got some insurance money from it. With the help of this little bit of extra cash, I found a youth-reduced, one-way ticket from Düsseldorf, Germany to Portland, Oregon with Turkish Airways for around 300 bucks. Excited to share the great news with Rob, I reached out with the trip itinerary. His backing out from his promise of such magnitude was certainly the last thing I saw coming.

There is a lady I work with who is married. That could be a good situation. She might be willing to help you out.

Okay, what is her number? Rob threw me a bone by giving me her phone number, after which we ended our call. Without hesitation I dialed her up. Being sixteen years old I couldn’t begin to appreciate what a ridiculous cold call this was. Here I am, a teenager calling a random lady on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean whom I have never met, know nothing about, and who has no idea who I am, with a request to move in with her family...in two weeks.

Hello, my name is Danny Marsden; I got your information from your coworker, Rob. I am a sixteen-year-old teenager from Germany, and I am moving to Portland on my own with no family in two weeks. Can I live with you?

Ahhh...what?

I began to explain the totality of my circumstances. She must have felt some sort of compassion toward me.

We will pick you up from the airport. You can crash on our couch for a few months. That will give us some time to figure out what the heck is going on here and allow us to help you find a more permanent situation.

Relieved, I gave her my flight information. Do you want me to call you again a few days prior to my trip, so you won’t forget that I am coming?

Oh no, save your money. I promise to be there for you to pick you up. We will not forget.

As far as I was concerned, that call could not have gone any better! Surely, this lady meant every word she said. The day of my big trip finally came as mom, together with one of her friends, took me to the airport. Both were still somewhat in disbelief. About a year prior, when I returned home from that basketball tour to the West Coast, I told my mother I would move to the United States on my own permanently within a year. A bold statement to make when you are fifteen years old.

If you can make it happen, I won’t hold you back, she replied. You might wonder why I didn’t stay in Germany? Would life have been much easier that way? Less hardship? More security? The answer is yes. Things would have been much simpler for me. And if I didn’t have such a fractured relationship with my mother mainly due to her mental health challenges, which made living under the same roof nearly impossible, I probably would have stayed. Secondly, it was my dream to come to America on my own and either make it or die trying. So please don’t feel sorry for me. I chose this. Instead, I invite you to celebrate with me that despite every challenge, God has worked all things out for the good.

So here I was, with two bags of clothes, a few hundred bucks, which wasn’t nearly enough for a return ticket to Germany, in case I decided to tap out once I made it over there and things went south. However, giving up would never be an option, so it didn’t seem unreasonable to burn that bridge.

A few extended layovers made for a long journey. From when I left our apartment in Northern Germany until I landed in Portland, twenty-seven hours passed. While on the last leg of the trip a nice lady sat next to me who took an interest in my story. She was rather amazed how a kid from Germany would move across the world alone and not really knowing what would happen once the wheels hit the ground in Oregon. At that moment I was still fully confident to be welcomed by the family I met via my rather interesting cold call two weeks ago. Turns out my new travel buddy had excellent intuition when she wasn’t so sure my arrangement could be trusted. It was past ten p.m. when I finally got my luggage from baggage claim and kept an eye out for my new host family. Kind of hard to do when I had never seen a picture of them or asked them what they looked like. Maybe I could find someone holding a sign with my name on it? After two hours had passed and still nobody showed up, anxiety began to build. I looked everywhere, even stepped outside several times where other happy travelers were picked up by friends and family. Those big city lights reminded me that this was real. I moved to America with a one-way ticket and was left at the airport. In other words, I had no idea where I would spend my first night here. What now? The next thirty minutes all I could do was pace back and forth while intensely crying out to God for help, cursing up a storm, back to prayer, back to cursing. Completely overwhelmed, I found a chair to sink in. More waiting. As time passed some airport personnel noticed how long I had been there on my own. Where is your family? a woman asked.

I don’t know. I am on my own.

Where are you supposed to be? Who is supposed to pick you up?

I have been left here and I have no one.

Wow. Well, would you like a calling card?

Yes, please.

With my calling card in hand, I approached the nearest pay phone. My first call was to the lady that promised to pick me up. Of course, nobody answered that one. Next, I called Rob, who really was to blame for this whole mess. Not surprisingly, he didn’t pick up the phone either. I kept calling both numbers over and over. Finally, someone picked up Rob’s phone. It was his girlfriend, who he had been living with. As it turns out, she had no idea who I was. I spent an entire year speaking to her boyfriend Rob about moving to the United States, yet he never even told her who I was. What a joke.

You are who? From where? Germany?!? You are how old? Rob promised you what? You are at the airport now??

Her questions kept rolling. She was in complete shock. Thankfully, she knew of the lady who was supposed to pick me up and offered to reach out to her on my behalf, to see what was going on. Call me back in about twenty minutes. By then I should have gotten ahold of her.

When I jumped back on the pay phone at the appointed time, my nightmare was officially confirmed. I was able to get a hold of her. She said that they were not expecting you.

What? Are you kidding me? This lady who seemed to so empathetic to my situation days prior during our phone call, straight up ditched me? To this day, I can still hear her voice in my head: We will be there for you. We will pick you up, and you can stay with us for at least the first few months.

Abandonment issues have already been a struggle because my father left my mom and sister high and dry before I was born. But at this moment in time, that inner scar increased exponentially. What adult in their right mind could make such a promise to a vulnerable teenager and then turn their back in cold blood with no regard for their life? An hour-and- a-half later Rob’s girlfriend came, picked me up and drove me to what I remember to be some type of industrial area. She explained there will be a black SUV pulling up in a few minutes. When that happened, I was to get out of her car and into the SUV. He will take you to where you need to go. I had no idea what she meant by that or where I needed to go, but okay, I would go along with it. At that point I was too tired to care either way. Ironically, she arranged for this mystery vehicle to take me to Larry Steele’s Basketball Camp in Vernonia, a small town forty-four miles northwest of Portland. Larry won an NBA championship with the Portland Trailblazers in 1977. They retired his jersey in Portland. His camp is unique in that it is set outdoors in the beautiful Oregon countryside. Youth players who attend the camp sleep in onsite cabins, work on their game throughout the day, enjoy some great food cooked by excellent staff and hang at the pool during breaks. A neat place. Rob happened to be the camp’s director again that summer.

He was quite surprised to see me when I knocked on his cabin door deep into the night. I can’t believe you actually came, was the best he could come up with. My brother, Ron, is the maintenance man here. I will talk with him in the morning. You should be able to stay with him. He can put you to work.

Ron lived with his girlfriend, Nancy, in a trailer tucked away on the top of the camp’s property. Both smoked like chimneys. However, they welcomed me with open arms. I would spend the following few weeks helping Ron with his work around the camp to earn the opportunity to sleep and eat there. One time they took me hiking at the Columbia River George, a truly breathtaking place. During one of the camp weeks for younger kids, a camp counselor who worked at the camp as a summer job noticed me. It was obvious to her that there was something different going on with me. She began asking questions to find out about my situation without me being aware of it. Katie, a high school student going into her junior year just as myself, had a father who was a successful businessman in the fishing industry, while Katie was a high-school star athlete in both volleyball and basketball. When Katie told him about me, he wanted to help. Larry Steele introduced me to her family, who in return arranged for me to move to their hometown.

Waldport is a small city located along the Oregon coast. My first few days there I stayed with Katie’s family. They arranged for a meeting with teachers and administrators at Waldport High School. At first no one had a clue what to do with me. Here I was, a broke, homeless teenager from another continent. I wasn’t a fancy exchange student with resources. David, Waldport High’s shop teacher, stepped up. His oldest son had just left to go to college, so they had an empty bedroom which they allowed me to have for the duration of my junior year. You live in our home. You are not a part of our family. Dave never left a doubt about what he was thinking. And I appreciated that about him. He always kept it real with me. He was the first man I really learned to respect for the way he led his family. Every single morning Dave got up at around five a.m., sat in his living room chair and read his Bible. The entire time I lived there I never heard him say one negative thing to or about his wife. If they had relationship challenges, he must have dealt with them privately. He was able to enjoy the simple things in life to the fullest. Men like him are few and far between.

I was excited to finally get started with my reason for coming to America. Basketball. At my first open gym with the high-school team, I felt ready. We made teams and got right into it. I guarded the varsity team captain, Casey. This would be my opportunity to show what I could do. One of the first few plays on offense I got Casey with an in and out move and hit a jumper on him. The next time down the court he kicked my legs from under me, stood over me, gave me the middle finger and said, Go back to your f****** country!

Perplexed, I glanced over to the sidelines fully expecting Coach Johnson to step up on my behalf. Johnson was a first-year varsity head coach at Waldport High School. Katie’s family introduced me to him to get me integrated in his basketball program. He picked me up from a designated meeting place between Vernonia and Waldport and drove me to Waldport. During that time, I thought we developed enough of a relationship to where he would have my back in situations like this. Instead, he completely ignored what just happened while playing around with his child. At that point, I jumped to my feet, pushed Casey in his chest away from me, and followed with some choice words. It was then that I became painfully aware of what I was up against. Welcome to America.

Growing up I realized that racism is still a thing, unfortunately; but I never thought I would become a target because of where I was from. I guess I looked like them, but I wasn’t them. Apparently, ignorance and prejudice are a global disease. They are not unique to one nation. At sixteen, I had no clue how much these next ten months in Waldport would change me. How deeply wounded this town would leave me for decades to come. It became a fight or flight situation. I chose to fight and had no time to think about what was happening in and to me. What kept me alive was my faith in Jesus. Through my faith in Him, I knew that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, so giving up or going back to Germany were never options. As a pre-teen I spent a lot of time playing basketball outside with guys who were four or five years older than me. We would have talks about God. On one occasion, they explained to me that the only reason I believed Jesus was really the son of God sent to die for my sin on the cross and make a way for me to have a real relationship with Him was because my mom and other adults told me so. If they told you your whole life that the Easter Bunny is God, you would have eventually believed that as well. Very profound. It made sense to me.

However, around that time I was invited to go to