Mike Lindell - What Are the Odds? From Crack Addict to CEO
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WHAT ARE THE ODDS?
From Crack Addic t to CEO
WHAT ARE THE ODDS?
From Crack Addic t to CEO
By Mike Lindell
Copyright 2019 by Mike Lindell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
For more information: 343 E. 82nd Street, Suite 102, Chaska, Minnesota 55318
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-1-7342834-0-2 (HC)
ISBN 978-1-7342834-1-9 (PB)
ISBN: 978-1-7342834-2-6 (Ebook)
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Book Design: GLS / NEXT Precision Marketing
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
In this life we all experience moments,
sometimes so unique or unusual that we pause and say,
Wowwhat are the odds that could happen?
And if something like that happens again,
maybe we say its just coincidence.
How many once-in-a-lifetime events do we
attribute to simple chance before we believe that
perhaps its something more? At what point
do you ask yourself, is it all just luck
or have I experienced a miracle?
I dedicate this book to anyone looking for hope.
FOREWORD
BY DR. Ben Carson
The first time I met Mike Lindell was at a National Prayer Breakfast event, and it was his voice that I recognized. His MyPillow commercials were everywhereyou couldnt turn on the TV without seeing him. In fact, after I bowed out of the 2016 presidential race and endorsed Donald Trump, I mentioned Mike and his pillow company to then-candidate Trump.
That guy is on television more than anyone Ive ever seen, Trump said, including me.
MyPillow is the most successful direct marketing product in the history of America. You dont have to know its inventor very long to see why. Mike Lindell is a natural marketer and entrepreneur. God gives everyone special gifts, but He also places challenges in our way to make us stronger. Some people meet these challenges head-on, right away, inspiring us all. Others take a broken road, inspiring us all the more by overcoming not only external challenges, but perhaps the greatest obstacle of allthemselves.
Mikes is that kind of story. Gambling addiction seized him while he was still a teenager. In his 20s, he became a frequent cocaine user and then an addict. When crack cocaine came on the scene in the late 1990s, Mike swore he would never use it. But he broke that vow and when he did, crack took him down fast.
Together, Mikes cocaine, crack, and gambling addictions would drive him into the darkest corners of America, bankrupt his family, ruin his marriage, and nearly take his life. But even as he was in the depths of despair, God inspired a dream, and MyPillow was born. At first, Mike thought his company would be a way to support his family. But over time, God showed him that the company was really a tool Mike could use to share his own story of hope and recovery.
What Are the Odds? is a testimonial about the power of a dream. It is about a man who went about as far down as a human being can go, but came out clean and sober on the other side. Its a story about failure, success, humility, courageand ultimately, hope.
Benjamin S. Carson, Sr., MD
Professor Emeritus of Neurosurgery
Johns Hopkins Childrens Center
Prologue
I remember the moment, the exact scene. My wife and teenage son sat on the living room floor, cheerfully at work on the family business, boxes and labels scattered around. They were yakking away about this and that as they hand-labeled MyPillow shipping boxes with Magic Markers.
Yet what I saw before me was not a happy family scene, but a world about to collapse.
It was February 2007. Our little family businesswhich I was running out of a rented bus shedwas on the verge of a hostile takeover. We were about to lose our house. Our bank accounts had dwindled to almost nothing. So had my marriage to Karen.
And then there was all the hidden stuff. Alcohol and drugs were taking their toll. I was heavily into gambling. I owed my bookie $45,000. Everything was about to come crashing down.
My family just didnt know it yet.
Id walked the razors edge for years, blessed with a lifelong lucky streak. I would back myself into one hopeless corner after another and then, at the last possible minute, pull off a miraculous escape. Which is why I found myself wondering: What ifsomehowthe odds again fell in my favor? What if I could somehow squeak byagain? Thats just the way my mind worked.
Which is why I didnt cancel our annual trip to Mexico.
Well, that and the fact that a Mexican drug dealer had promised me an unlimited supply of cocaine.
Yes. I was an addict. Part of my story is about addiction. But not the kind where the user winds up living in the streets. Im an ordinary guy from Minnesota. I had owned businesses and raised a family. Coached our kids in Little League. Taken them hunting and fishing. All that small-town America stuff.
You see, not all addicts live under a bridge somewhere, lonely and broke. In fact, our house was the house where all our kids friends wanted to hang out. Neither our kids nor their friends knew that the Lindell adults were addicts. This is the hidden world of addiction that most people dont see. Men and women with familiespeople functioning in the community, serving on committees, owning businesses, holding down jobs. At least for a while. Addiction affects everyone, no matter how many forks they eat with.
That spring of 2007, as my self-destruction gained speed, I did what addicts do: I tried to escape my problems. Karen and I, with our close friends Paul (nicknamed Skelly) and Jenny, flew down to a Mexican beach town. The flight seemed to take forever. Looking down on passing clouds, all I could think about was that first line of cocaine.
I fidgeted in my seat, looking at the satellite map on the seat in front of me, counting down the southbound miles until we got there. Time dragged as the animated airplane seemed to barely move. Once we landed, it would be an hour ride to the resort and maybe even longer until I could meet up with my coke-promising dealer, a Mexican we called the Greek. I didnt want to wait that long.
Finally, we landed and boarded the shuttle to our resort. As we rolled toward the beach, Skelly, Jenny, and Karen relaxed with beers and watched the sights through the window like normal tourists. But for me, the miles ticked by with agonizing slowness. The bus driver droned on about the sights, and I couldnt have cared less. I just want to get therea place where there were no governors on my addiction. No work, no family obligations, not even the police. Even more importantly, I wouldnt have to worry about where to get my coke, because down here, it was everywhere . It was an addicts dream.
With my life and business crumbling around me, I wanted to get high and stay high. In fact, whenever we went to Mexico, I never slept. Literally never. Skelly joked that for me, a week in Mexico was like a 14-day vacation.
As soon as we got to the coast, we checked into our favorite resort. The guest rooms were inside a pair of tall, white, modern buildings that overlooked a giant sapphire pool. From our balcony, we could see past the pool to a small group of islands not far from shore. The whole place was spa-like and beautiful. But in my mind, I was already out the door. As soon as we dropped our bags, I left the hotel to track down the Greek. The others knew I wouldnt be back until I found him.
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