I don't know where to start. I guess the best place to begin would to say this is actually about two people, my husband and myself. I don't know how many people believe in soul mates, but that is exactly what David and I are. We was destined to be together. Let me back up, and you will see what I am talking about. My mom and his parents both became Jehovah's Witnesses back in the early 1970's. And no, they did not know each other, until we met. From this point on, when I am talking about the Jehovah's Witnesses, I will just use the letters JW. And if you have ever talked to a JW, they feel and think they have the only way to salvation.

For me the Jehovah's Witnesses faith was all I have ever known. And what ever your parents say, as a child you will take it at face value. But let me now tell you of my story. Around 1974, when I was 5, my mother became a Jehovah's Witness. And I would hear her say, things like Armageddon would happen before I started school. I started school in 1975. She honestly believed it. She had a cousin that studied with her, and showed her topics such as the hell fire doctrine, and the trinity doctrine. Those were two things she had a hard time dealing with when she went to church. So I am growing up, my mother is a Jehovah's Witness and my father.....well he never became one, but he backed up my mother.

During the course of time, I eventually get two more sisters added on to my family. And also my mother was inactive part of the time, but she was faithful all that time on not celebrating the holidays, or anything that went against the JW rules. So eventually in 1987, I got baptized, no pressure to do it. My mom always said when we get baptized it was up to us. I have always been thankful for that.

In the following year, right out of high school, I went into the full time ministry, called pioneering. In 1989, I started to work with a building crew to help in building of Kingdom Halls. I would have to say that both of those gave me a good learning experience on how to handle the bible. Also that really helped with my people skills. Before I did those things, I was a terribly shy person. I was so shy, that I would get pains from talking to people. So you can see why that was a good experience for me.

But this where things get a little odd for me. Even though I was doing all I could for Jehovah's organization, I was always plagued with guilt over miner little things. Oh, it is nothing you would get disfellowshipped for. (Disfellowshipped is being kicked out of the religion.) But I always felt like I was not worthy of God's love, and no matter how hard I would work. I just did not feel worthy of survival into God's new system. Just remember this, and I will come back to it later in my story.

In 1993, I got married to my husband. We met in Garnett, Kansas. And that is also the name of my birth stone. And I like to call this point the beginning of the end for me. After I got married to my husband, I learned that he only got baptized because his parents forced him into it. It was either get baptized or get kicked out of home. So at 18 he got baptized, because he was not ready to leave the nest.

So after we got married, I moved into his congregation. (The JW's don't call their places of worship churches.) BIG MISTAKE!! This certain congregation does not except outsiders. They even had this rep back in the 1950's. I tired to be a good Christian, and over look all this. I thought, well it must be me, because I am a newlywed. I was never so wrong. We moved away, but in the course of time we ended up in this congregation 3 times. That was my husband's doing. And really it was not his fault, because he worked in that town. And the car we had at the time was always breaking down.

Every time we moved into this congregation things just got worse. I think it was because I had told the Circuit Overseer about them. They were always picking on me, about little things. To give you an example. At the time my oldest was just a new born, and cried a lot I would do my best such as taking the child to the second school, or to the bathroom. But this one day, I decided to sit in the back row, my child was being quiet this day. And he made some of those baby cooing sounds. Not loud mind me, it was on the soft side. This elder picked up my bags, and took my belongings to the second school. He told me that I had no business being in the main hall. So I went back there with tears in my eyes. I was so angry at him. Told my husband (at that time he was not there with me), I won't go back there again. But I did about 2 years later. But this time, it was my husband who was the one who got chewed out. This time our second child had come along. But our oldest was being very good. Oh granted we could not keep him in his seat, but we were in the back row, and he was quiet. This time the elders escorted my husband out of the hall. They came back in, but my husband and son was gone. After the meeting he came back for me. What had happen, there was another child in the hall who was making sounds and our son got blamed for it. To make a long story short....My husband told them to blank off. He had enough. That was just two examples of what we were dealing with.

And we had other problems, in other congregations, but I won't be going into that. By now we both were getting as you would call, very "spiritually weak". In fact, religion had taken a back seat. Except for the times I would get a phone call from my mother nagging about going to the meeting. Then I would go to a meeting or two, just to get her off my back. I got letters from mom, and one of my sisters telling me how I would die at Armageddon, unless I started going to all the meetings again. Those letters would make me angry and put me in tears.

My children hated it whenever we did go. They would cry, scream, and fight just so they would not have to go. I would drag them to the meetings at times, kicking and screaming all the way. And we are talking about preschoolers. As I thought about this, there had to be something very wrong. Because children can pick up things that are wrong, even when adults can't.

R... earlier, I talked about how I did not feel worthy of God's love. This is where things start to take a turn. I decided to go against what the Watchtower said, and I went to the Internet. I read story after story of those who came out of the organization. And I felt like that they was talking about me. I noticed how you can stop at one story, and pick up at another story, and it would sound like one person telling their story. My Story. All those years in the organization, the Jehovah's Witnesses said "Don't read apostate information, you are just reading lies. I was going against what they were telling me to do. I decided to be on the safe side, I would read what they said against the organization, and then read it in the Watchtower, and other publications put out by New York. It was all true. I could not believe my eyes, and what I was reading.

By now I was so confused, and fortunately for me I found several web sites dealing with encouragement of leaving the organization. I talked to my husband and showed him what I was learning. I was not sure how he would take it. But to my amazement, he was in agreement, only after he saw the proof.

I then started to get into the Bible. By now, I did not even trust the New World Translation (that is the JW bible), so I got a NIV Bible. So I compared the two a lot. And learned that the organization even changed up some of the wordings in the Bible. One of the biggest changes was the word exercises when it should say believe. Here are some scriptures if you want to see it for your self: John 3:16, John 6:40, Romans 10:9,10,13

At Ephesians 2:8,9 it says, "By this undeserved kindness, indeed, you have been saved through faith; and this not owning to you, it is God's gift. 9 No, it is not owing to works, in order that no man should have ground for boasting." So you can see how it is God's gift to us, and a gift is free.

But then some one would say James 2:26 where it talks about faith without works is dead. But if you go up and read verses 14-25, It is talking about giving them the necessities of clothing and feeding those who are lacking. How Abraham was going to offer up his son Isaac in an offering to God, and how Rahab hid the two spies. So that scripture is talking about good deeds.

And the last scripture that really got me to thinking about the changes over the years in the organization is Deuteronomy 18: 21, 22 How shall we know that God actually said it. He tells us that if a prophet says something is going to happen and it doesn't happen. God tells us not to worry, because he told us not to get frightened of that person. Now mind me I just paraphrased it, so you will need to read it yourself. Now, just think of all the times Jehovah's Witnesses said something was going to happen and it did not.

After sharing all this with my husband, we both decided that we needed to talk to some one. And that some one was his aunt, Cindy. She is a Sunday school teacher. So we had her come to our home, to talk to her about all this stuff I was learning. By the time she had left, we was saved, and was going to go to her church the next day, which happened to be on a Sunday.

I have been saved, and my faith in the Lord is stronger than ever. I no longer have that feeling that I won't survive. I know that my hope is now to go to heaven, when my Lord Jesus is ready to bring me home. And if you are wondering, since then I have told my children that we will be going to Church and not the Kingdom Hall. At first they was not sure, because of the unknown, but after the first day of Church they love it. Their interest in spiritual things has started to bloom. As far as my husband we are going through this spiritual journey together. We are finally united as a family serving God.

My brother-in-law learned that my husband and I were going to church. He said that he would tell everyone, and that we would get disfellowshipped. He was very rude, and cussed a lot at us. Any how, I don't know about you, but I like to have some control over my life. So we told him that we was going to disassociate ourselves. There is a lot more involved, but disassociating is basically removing ones name from the list of the organization. And that made him even madder.

My mom said that I am now dead to her, and I am going to loose out on my family. But for some reason, I am not that sad now. I was at first. I am now having relatives that I have not seen in a long time calling me up (they are not JW's) and now telling me that I can be part of their family. They understand the JW shunning and stuff. In fact I have an uncle who is a Baptist preacher who wants to help me through my trials. I do believe that God is watching over my family and me, and telling me not to worry. He will make up for what I have lost, with something better. I am already seeing it. I am praying that he will allow my JW relatives to see the real truths of the Bible, as he has allowed for me. I pray that one day, they will get saved as I have. I am not angry at them; my aunt says that they are fooled by the devil. Who can appear as an angel of light.

I want to share an abbreviated testimony for what it is worth. Probably, people who are still out there involved in the "new age" movement will not be poking around these kinds of sites, but then again, you never can tell what the Lord will do!

I was raised a Christian in a mainstream Protestant denomination. I will not mention it, because I do not want to cast any aspersions on that denomination, but I never really found a life-changing relationship with Jesus Christ in that church -- so maybe it was just me. But the Lord had a great and tortuous and rewarding journey planned for me. I was saved, in heart and spirit, one night alone in my bedroom, when I was about 15. But it was like the seed cast upon rocky soil-- without nurturing, I immediately fell away. I went into drug experimentation, bad lifestyle, abuse of alcohol, and eventually at age 30, entered AA under the influence-- divine influence, I believe!

 God used that program as a last call for me to either get straight, or get taken home. By the grace of God, I am sober today, twelve years later, but through the program I got introduced to the New Age movement in a tremendous way-- sort of Satan's last big fling at my soul. Psychobabble, mumbo-jumbo, Science of Mind, Emmett Fox, Christian Science, energized crystals, spirit writing, channeling spirits (i.e., demons), opening chakras, attending Buddhist services, Bahai Faith— there was not much I did not try in my search for the "Truth".

The last big belief system in which I became ensnared was A Course in Miracles, which could aptly be renamed, Lost Souls 101. I studied it intensely for four years. All the while, God was drawing me closer and closer to Jesus. See, deep down, I thought I was not good enough for Jesus, that I had done too many bad things for Him to ever love me -- how could He? 

That is exactly where Satan wanted to keep me, uninformed, and in doubt. But things started happening in my life -- God led me to my husband in 1987-- we felt we had been put together by God, but we were both out of fellowship.

One night, once again, in my bed, as I was reading the "Course." I felt I was getting the very strong message from my reading that I should kill myself in order to be one with the "Jesus." Something inside me cried out against that self-destructive message -- I know now it was the Holy Spirit fighting for my life. That night, I suddenly realized I ought to go in search of the belief of my parents, back to my Christian roots. Maybe there was something to it! Maybe I had just not quite gotten it right...

I began to pray for God to lead me-- and lead me he did, right to a word-teaching, fundamental, bible-believing church, which I promptly embraced. I began actually READING my bible, almost every day -- I won't claim I did it right all the time. But God used the Word to draw me, and, after reading Romans, I became convicted to rededicate my life to Jesus, to Whom it had really belonged all along. And I went to our pastor, and asked to be baptized to show what the Lord was doing in my life. 

Praise the Lord -- that was nearly five years ago, and He has not stopped working in my life since. I even had the chance to teach English in a Christian school-- me, a worthless sinner, whom the Lord loves anyway! He continues to bless and reward us, and we have seen our five sons come to the Lord in faith, and are watching them attempt to continue in His ways -- some times are more rocky than others, but we have the gift of His faith that He is faithful to finish when He has begun a work in someone's life, and we are secure in the knowledge that He is always in control.

My story really is not all that interesting. I just grew up in a somewhat normal childhood in the 50’s and never got into any serious trouble. Maybe this will serve as an inspiration to others in some odd way, though. I remember an incident that took place during the mid 70’s. This was the era of the so-called “Jesus Movement.” Young people who had rejected the traditional rolls of family life and church were out on their own experimenting with alternate lifestyles and religions. Somewhere – and things are not too clear just where – God moved through these people and raised an army of Believers who rejected the old “traditional” forms of Christianity. Their music was different; their fellowships were different; and in many ways their relationships with God were different. Many of them were ex-drug addicts, ex-gang members, ex-prostitutes…much of the dregs of society that the churches had, for the most part, written off.

During the late 60’s and early-to-mid 70’s stories of drastically changed lives and deliverance from drug addiction were commonplace. I sat in one weeknight Bible study, though, where an older gentleman shared with the group about how God was helping him with his struggle to lose weight. My story is of the same caliber, a testimony about how God cares about the mundane things in life in addition to the spectacular, so grab the No Doz and a pot of coffee and join me.

I was baptized at Saint Mary’s parish in Marion, Ohio. St. Mary’s is the largest parish in the Columbus diocese. This is significant, because it was so big; it was difficult to really connect with anyone who was not already a friend or family member. Mass was scheduled four or five times on Sunday morning as I was growing up. Later a second church building was added in another part of town with two or three Masses scheduled, with Saturday evening Masses being added at each church to help folks fulfill their obligation to attend Mass every Sunday.

Back then attendance at Mass was mandatory on Sunday and Holy Days of Obligation. To miss Mass without a good reason was to commit a mortal sin. We had a lot of demands put upon us during this period. Eating meat on Friday, attendance at a (Gasp!) Protestant service, even reading the Bible was forbidden. I wasn’t very devout. I went to Mass because my mother took me. I had my First Communion and Confirmation because they were expected of me. It never even occurred to me to not participate in these things. 

My early time was rather uneventful, learning the Baltimore Catechism and just staying out of God’s way. That was something I really started wondering about. On one hand, we learned about how God loved us, but then we were also taught how God seemed to be up in heaven just waiting for someone to get out of line. Guilt played a large part in my spiritual life. If I went to confession and had not gone for quite a while, I’d get scolded by the priest for waiting so long. Eventually, I just stopped going. From time to time – especially in the summer – I’d lose track of the day of the week and inadvertently eat meat on Friday. The terror I felt can be understood only by older Catholics.

Eventually, I started noticing inconsistencies in the lives of Catholics around me. Most of them, I can now understand just from the standpoint of human nature, and people’s inability to live up to the ideals that they genuinely hold. But there were others that leave a strong impression on an adolescent. As I explained earlier, missing Mass without a good reason was considered a mortal sin. This is most dangerous, because death with unconfessed mortal sin on your soul meant an instant trip to hell. Really. 

You noncatholics have probably heard of mortal and venial sins, but may not understand them. The Catholic Church has a two-tiered system of sin. Venial sins are small things such as lies, theft, etc. Mortal sins are much more serious, such as murder or, before Vatican II, eating meat on Friday. (I’m really not making this stuff up!) Venial sins will send you to purgatory for an undisclosed amount of time, but you eventually would make it to heaven (Maybe. We don’t want to commit the sin of presumption here.)

Well, missing Mass on a Sunday was a mortal sin, but there were times when we would go to my grandparents’ house to pick them up for Mass, and my grandfather would be sitting in his easy chair in his undershirt. “I don’t feel like going to Mass today…” Now when I’d been told by God’s church that missing Mass was a ticket to hell, and my grandfather was very casual about attendance, and this didn’t seem to bother anyone, it had a profound impact on me. I consider those instances to be the time when I started wondering about the absolute authority of pronouncements from the Church.

Even after I was left to my own devices, though, I kept attending Mass. By my early teens, I really had no real belief. I suppose I kept going out of cultural inertia or just to cover my bets, but I was by then a confirmed agnostic. If anyone had asked me at this point if I believed in God, I probably would have replied in the affirmative, but I had no idea what He was like or how (or if) it were possible to know Him…or even if I’d want to. The changes from Vatican II started finding their way into the Mass, and frankly, I was glad to see them come. I had never studied Latin, so the Mass was a big mystery to me as I was growing up. Now the Mass was being celebrated in English, and even if I still didn’t believe what was being said, at least I understood it better. The Bible was no longer forbidden to lay people, but I still didn’t read it.

I think a slight detour is in order here. When I was young I was what was euphemistically called “husky.” I was fat. My doctor had me on a diet when I was three years old. I was never athletic (naturally) and since that seems to be the prerequisite for popularity among the young, I had few friends. Oh, I always had a few, and so I suppose I never really noticed that much how few I had, but I spent a lot of time by myself. My family had always had books around, and I learned to read before I started school. Books were an escape for me, and to this day I still have an almost insatiable appetite for reading. I lived just down the street from grade school, so I’d walk home for lunch, eat, then sit on a register and read until it was time to go back. I read books from the library; I read books from school; I read my father’s science fiction anthologies; I read murder mysteries; I read the encyclopedia; I read the cereal box as I ate breakfast… As I entered my teens I started branching into new territory. I already had read in several fields of the natural sciences. I branched out to psychology, philosophy, the occult, but not theology. I’d already tried Christianity (or so I believed) and found it wanting.

Four days before I sixteenth birthday I hit a semi truck while riding my bicycle. (Insert Groucho Marx joke here.) I suffered a compound fracture to my left leg and missed six weeks of school. This would have been bad enough, but it was my sophomore year of high school, my first year after junior high, and only two weeks into the school year. I got back to school on crutches after those six weeks only to discover that what few friends I had from junior high had made new friends. For all practical purposes I didn’t know anybody, and this only served to drive me deeper inward, and into my books. That Christmas I got a set of weights and as soon as my cast came off I started an exercise routine. By the end of my junior year I was downright slim and I had my first date (with a GIRL!) that summer. My senior year found me with a new physique, better attitude…and no personality.

I was downright SHY ! Painfully so. I had plenty of dates, but was terrible with small talk, I knew nothing about drawing people into conversations and was, for the most part, just as lonely as I’d always been. Somewhere I discovered a reservoir of humor and started making more friends. One significant spiritual event in during this time was when I started dating a girl whose parents were Lutherans. To my surprise, these folks absolutely HATED me because I was Catholic. Having little interest in religion at that point, I was quite taken aback by their animosity. They never wanted to discuss theology with me; they just had no use for me. Other than that my senior year ended as most senior years do, although my graduating class scandalized our parents by rewriting the words to "25 or 6 to 4" for our class song, and we sang along with music from “Marion Transit Authority” at our commencement. That summer I worked as a painter and prepared to go to college that fall.

College was a trip. I was majoring in mechanical engineering. High school had been quite easy. In fact, I rarely cracked a book during my senior year, but still qualified for membership in the National Honor Society. (Although I didn’t join. THAT was a whole different crowd than the one where I felt comfortable.) I paid for it that next fall as I entered my freshman year at college with no study habits. Exacerbating the situation was the fact that I had inadvertently been scheduled for a physics class before having the two prerequisites. I limped along the best I could, but it was a losing battle. My inherent laziness did nothing to help the situation. But I was there for a different Reason…

One day I was sitting in the student lounge not doing much of anything – probably waiting for a eucher game to start up. A friend from a couple of my classes came up and stuck a newspaper under my nose. “CHRIST RETURNS!” a headline screamed. “MILLIONS MISSING AROUND THE WORLD!” What in the world was this talking about? At the Mass we had always repeated, “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again,” but I had never heard about people actually disappearing during this event. I read the newspaper – it was only four pages – and got scared. Really scared. All of the articles pretty much said the same thing: If you were not taken up when Christ returned, you were done for, man. Most of my initial reading of this paper is a hazy memory. I failed to notice the section that explained how to be among those who were taken. I gave the paper back to my friend and worried about what it said for a few days. But there were classes to attend, schoolwork to do, and card games to win.

Later that fall I started dating a girl who got to mean a lot to me. She was intelligent, funny, and easy on the eyes. For someone who was ignored by the opposite sex during most of his adolescence, infatuation came easy. Time spent with her was totally pleasant. 

During this same time my grandfather went into the hospital with cancer. It was spreading throughout his body, and his doctor gave him just a short time to live. “There are no atheists in the foxholes.” I prayed, asking God to allow my grandfather to live. Even though I really had no idea if He were there, I was grasping for anything. With the typical Catholic mindset I offered up to God as a sacrifice the only thing that really mattered to me at the time: my relationship with that girl. She and I started drifting apart. My grandfather continued to live – way beyond the maximum time given by the doctors. There was one problem, though. My grandfather didn’t get better; he just kept hanging on and continued to lose weight. He had always been robust and full of love for life, but now he was just a shell of his former self. I thought, “What am I doing?” (There’s that Catholic mindset again!) I prayed again, asking God to end his suffering. I wouldn’t ask for an end to our original agreement, I just couldn’t stand to see my grandfather continue to deteriorate. Shortly after that, he died.

Now, to this day I have no idea how much was due to my prayers or how much was coincidence. I have long ago learned that God very rarely strikes bargains, but I also know that He does things that are totally inexplicable to our limited understanding. Wherever the truth lies, these events had quite a profound effect on me at the time. But, as it all too often happened, after the shock wore off everyday living shoved things eternal from my mind.

I started dating the sister of a friend. My friend was moving out of state, and at a going-away party for her I met a group of very strange people (or maybe I should call the “peculiar.”) Some time earlier my friend had started attending what she called a “fellowship,” and I had no idea what went on there. These people were all from the fellowship. They seemed a little odd, but likable. Most of them were generally my age although the leaders of the group were 26 and 28. One was a teacher from my high school. They seemed ancient. I discovered that this fellowship was actually a nondenominational Bible study. As I’d said, I had never read the Bible, and I imagined a Bible study involving a group of wizened old folks sitting in silence around a dimly-lit living room, reading their Bibles.

The day came to drive my friend to the airport, but it was to mean much more to me than that. That morning I woke up knowing God existed! I’m really not sure what it was that turned me from an agnostic to a theist. Either God had supernaturally revealed Himself to me, or perhaps all of my learning had finally come into focus. Whatever it was, the feeling was thunderous. I decided I’d like to get to know this God.

My girlfriend was a Protestant, and had told me about the various Bibles she’d acquired through the years. I borrowed one from her and started reading. The writing style seemed geared toward someone, say, in the third grade, but I couldn’t get enough. I was living at home and commuting an hour to school with a friend. When he drove I got an hour of reading the Bible on the way down and another hour on the way home.

The Gospels were quite interesting, although parts were somewhat disturbing. I noticed right away how Matthew kept punctuating his narrative with phrases such as, “…so that the Scriptures might be fulfilled…” It seemed as if he were saying that the Scriptures had some sort of life of their own, or some kind of authority over history as it unfolded. Another very disturbing segment was in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount when He said, “If your eye offends you, tear it out and cast it away from you, for it is better to enter heaven with only one eye that to be cast whole into hell.” Whew. Whatever happened to “Holy Infant, so tender and mild?” All I was looking for was a continuation of those good feelings. I kept reading, hoping I’d find some clue.

There was one student at school who was a bit of a geek. This was the early 70’s, when most of us were…well…hairy. My hair was past my shoulders – at least it would have been if it didn’t frizz like it did. It went completely out of the picture on my student ID. Mr. Geek had his hair trimmed short. He was just too different from the rest of us nonconformists (Heh.) He, like the rest of us, carried his books in a satchel. The major difference between him and the rest of us though, was that he had bumper stickers on his satchel. Yes, bumper stickers. One said, “Honk if you love Jesus!” Well that pegged him right there. On the other side he had one that read “John 3:16 tells it like it is!” Judging from his appearance, no doubt from a repressive upbringing, the verse probably was something along the lines of, “If your right hand offends you…” I pulled out my New Testament and turned to John 3:16. It read, “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.” That was quite literally the last thing I expected to read. It gave me much to think about.

I was still looking for some way to get to know God. In my Bible reading I started finding things that were difficult to understand. I also read in Matthew’s gospel (chapter 24), Mark’s gospel (chapter 13), and Luke’s gospel (chapter 21) of a snatching away of God’s “elect.” Jesus said in Matthew, “…and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky with power and great glory. And He will send forth His angels with a great trumpet and they will gather together His elect from the four winds, from one end of the sky to the other… Then there shall be two men in the field; one will be taken, and one will be left. Two women will be grinding at the mill; one will be taken, and one will be left.” 

I wondered if this could be what that paper had been talking about. I just plain didn’t have anyone to ask. I wondered if this “fellowship” would have someone who could explain. I found out that they met every Thursday night, and went that next week. To my surprise, I did not find a group of wrinkled old people, but a large crowd of young people my own age. I recognized many of them from high school (although we had run in different groups), some of them among the more popular cliques. One fellow had a guitar and I thought, “Oh no. Get ready for ‘Michael Row the Boat Ashore’ and ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.’” I had another pleasant surprise. The songs were fairly upbeat and most of them dealt with God’s love. There was one, though that gave me pause. The message of the song was, “The Son has come and you’ve been left behind.” THAT again! Was this a major theme of the Bible that the Catholic Church had completely ignored?

After the singing there was a time of prayer. These people actually talked to God! And they prayed many times thanking Him for answers. It all was quite different from the scripted prayers I’d learned growing up, or the prayers off the cuff that were most often no more than, "Gimme, gimme, gimme."

After the prayers we started getting into the Bible. They were working their way through Paul’s letter to the Romans. They were at chapter 14, where Paul admonished those strong in their faith to watch out for those who were weak. The leader (Bill, I’d met him at my friend’s going-away party) took the principle from this passage and applied it to every-day life. Don’t take a ham sandwich to your Jewish friend’s house; don’t wear jeans to church if that will offend people; and things such as these. These were principles I already tried to live by. I was pleased to hear that God wished us to behave in such a way that I already held as an ideal.

At the end of the study, people stayed around to talk. These people actually came because they wanted to. After 19 years of forced church attendance, I found this rather unusual. They also came up and welcomed me. They seemed genuinely glad to see me.

I started attending the fellowship on a regular basis. With this, in conjunction with my Bible reading on my own, I was learning a lot, but there were still things eluding my understanding. There were many concepts that seemed just out of my reach. I began visiting the home of one of the older participants (Rick, the 28-year-old.) I started inundating him with questions. At times others would be over and we’d spend much time discussing the things of God.

After I’d been attending the Bible study for a few weeks news started surfacing about an upcoming evangelistic crusade in a nearby town. There was going to be a youth rally to get the area Christian youth mobilized to bring in their friends. My friends were all planning to go and, naturally, I wanted to go also. At the rally, there was a fellow from a local fellowship associated with a Christian community located on a farm. He led the crowd in songs – most of which I recognized from Bible study (I found out later that many of the people from Bible study, including Rick and Bill, attended services on Sunday mornings at this farm.) This fellow started talking about the love of God, and Jesus’ sacrifice for our sins. I was getting to feel like an old hand at this. Much of it was familiar by now.

At the end of the program Dalton (as I later found out was his name) asked everyone to bow their heads and close their eyes. He said, “If any of you would like to ask Jesus into your life and be your Savior, raise your hand.” I was taken aback. What was he talking about? Was this something these “Jesus People” did periodically? I mean, I was already doing everything these other people were doing, wasn’t I? Time stretched into (it seemed) ten or fifteen minutes. I started wondering what this guy was waiting for. I started getting into a mental debate. Why don’t you do this? Why should I? Isn’t this just the next logical step in what you are already doing? What would I be letting myself in for? Come on! Raise your hand! I think I’ll just pass on this. Come on. I don’t know… Comeoncomeoncomeonco...

I raised my hand. 

Dalton led those of us who’d raised our hands in a short prayer, asking Jesus to be our Savior. I have heard stories by some people whose time of conversion was thunderous. I didn’t feel a thing. As a matter of fact, it felt like such a non-event that I did not take much notice of it. I still was looking for a continuation of those warm fuzzies from the previous fall. That night, though, April 8th, 1972, was like the turning of a corner for me. I had been dead, now I was alive. I was an enemy of God, now I was aligned with Him against the god of this world. I had been headed for hell, now my home was heaven.

My friends kept track of the date for me. As I grew in my faith I started noticing changes in me. A big change was that my understanding of the Bible accelerated. New things were becoming clearer every day. I made friends with Mr. Geek (His name is Mike.) and started flooding him with questions that I had.

There was another change, though, that was even bigger – the significance of which can be best appreciated by a Roman Catholic: I could now relax in my relationship with God. The Church has given us Catholics soooo many rules and rituals to earn eternal life…and then you could never be sure until you were actually stepping through the Pearly Gates. But the Bible gives assurance of salvation and a home in heaven for all who believe. It didn’t take me long to recognize that the Church presents heaven as a reward. Now, a reward is something in payment for what you have done – wages, if you will. But the only wages mentioned in the Bible in this regard is in Romans 6:23: For the wages of sin is death. But heaven is a gift. That same verse also tells us …but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

If you are Roman Catholic and reading this (or an evangelical Christian struggling with your relationship with God), understand that there is absolutely nothing that you can do to gain God’s favor. Paul wrote, But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8) How could God love us more? And that was when we were still God’s enemies. Salvation is not some kind of reward, but God’s solution to the problem of sin. God has always wanted to have a relationship with us, but the sin in our lives kept us apart. Jesus’ death was God’s solution, and now He is free to actually enjoy our company.

At the time of my conversion there were those who thought this was just some kick I was on, but God is faithful, and will complete what He has begun in me. In a few weeks as of this writing, I will have been a Christian for 30 years. About six months after I became a Christian I found some papers I’d written the previous fall for a class in school. I was amazed at how much my attitude had changed in less than a year. Where I had been an agnostic, a nihilist, and a hedonist, now I had assurance of God’s existence and a hope for the future. I had an answer for troubled friends other than just my sympathy. There have been some extremely tough times as a direct result of my faith, but God has always been there to see me through.

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things? Who will bring a charge against God's elect? God is the one who justifies; who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus is He who died, yes, rather who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who also intercedes for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Just as it is written, "For Thy sake we are being put to death all day long;” But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, (Did you get that? Not even life, with all of its distractions, temptations, and hurts can separate us from God.) nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:31-39

I told you that my story wouldn’t be all that interesting, but I hope that in some small way, I have inspired someone to seek out God and let Him prove Himself to you.

I was a Professor at the age of 28. I had the world by the tail, at least that I thought that I did. I published a book and numerous academic papers. I gave papers at National Conferences. I shared the stage with Stephen Jay Gould. I wrote a novel, "The Other World" which was a modern day fable of the demon goddess, Lilith. It bounced around New York for years. I even did a reading of it in a loft in Greenwich Village. I knew that Stephen Speilberg's mother had been a member of Beth Joseph Congregation in Phoenix. I tracked her down to the Milky Way Deli in LA. I sent her a letter to please tell her son about my book-it would make a good screenplay for him. She refused. I sent it to Speilberg, anyway. To Amblin Entertainment c/o Paramount Pictures. They sent it back unopened.

This book was the most New Age, demonic book that you could imagine. I glorified evil and Satan. I blurred the distinctions between good and evil, reality and dream and even male and female. I quoted from the lost gospels found at Nag Hammadi. I even gave to my future wife Paula to read when we first met in 1987. This sweet Christian lady read a chapter and gave it back to me appalled!

Here I found myself working for a Christian telemarketing firm selling precious metals to Christian listeners of a radio program. Me, a Professor, a leader in the Phoenix Jewish community working for Christians. My life had been turned upside down by the trauma of loss of job in Jewish community, divorce, my children had moved to Charleston, SC, my father had died and my health had begun to falter. I went into Barrows Neurological Center in Phoenix and they found extensive brain lesions with an MRI and other tests (diagnosis-Multiple Sclerosis... prognosis---wheelcha... All of this, and I was now working for Christians to boot.

The staff (Paula) prayed for me, my clients prayed for me. How nice. When my coworkers tried to preach to me I slammed them. After all, I had not only been a Director of the Jewish National Fund, but I was also a part of the Community Relations Council in the Jewish community which investigated missionaries. I had lectured at the University of Arizona on anti semitism and the Holocaust. Who did these people think that they were?

I acted like Shaul to them. I flogged them with my tongue, a frequent Jewish tactic. We fight with our tongues , not our fists. One fellow said that he was so frustrated with me that he felt like throwing me over the balcony. I replied, "Oh that's Christian!" They waved the Bible in my face. "read Isaiah 53" read Psalm 22". I replied, "Read this!", shaking my fist!

One day I went to Philip's house for dinner while my new girlfriend, a Jewish New Ager, was at work. After dinner, we all stood in a circle holding hands. He had fed me dinner so I decided to humor him (actually his love was tugging at my heart). We prayed---at least they prayed. I closed my eyes and saw an image darting across the plane of my vision. I blinked. It came back. When we were finished, Philip asked me what I had seen. I said, "Nothing". How did he know ? He must have opened his eyes and seen me grimacing. He said again, "What did you see, Jewboy?" Finally I answered that it was stupid, "forget it".

Well Philip kept insisting. Finally I told them. I saw a man in a suit of armor waving his sword at a being in a monk's robe with no face. Philip's mouth fell open. He ran and got his Bible and showed me Ephesians 6:12f. I did not know what he was talking about. I did not know the Bible. Things like that began to happen as the Holy Spirit was showing me the word visually.

Not too much later, I was sitting at my desk at the office. We all had cubicles. I was trying to close a large deal when an image appeared in front of me. I looked around to see if anyone else saw it. Nobody! It was Jesus on the cross. His head was down. It was night, or the sky was dark, and there was lightning all over the sky. Quite a sight for a nice Jewish, New Age, College Professor, Pharisee-type person. I was dumfounded. I told no one.

The next day, I saw another vision. This time Jesus was on the cross, but it was daylight. He lifted up His head and light poured out of His eyes. He broke the fetters and got off of the Cross. He then proceeded to walk all over the earth with the light still pouring from His eyes. Remember that I did know the Bible at that time especially the New Testament, i.e. Jesus is the light of the world!

I had told Philip that I would not believe unless I saw the burning bush for myself. Scripture says that Jews seek signs. Well God was showing me! That night I had a dream that I had to die (be crucified) for all my friends to live. I anticipated the flogging on my back and the nails though my hands. It was a powerful experience which cannot truly be put into words. I knew instantly what Jesus had done for me. I awoke looking at my hands (Galatians 6:17).

The next day I said the sinners prayer and accepted Jesus into my life. My sister said that they had got me. Praise God. That was on October 3, 1988. Paula and I married on March 30, 1990. I had to leave the company in April of 1991. My health had been to hamper me. but do not pity me. God all along had a plan for my life. Do I miss my former accolades and achievements? No! As Paul said I count them as rubbish in order that I may gain Christ (Philippians 3:8).

On April 3, 1995, I went to work just like any other day except that I had an inkling in my heart to pray for my personal safety.  

I was working with youth involved in gangs and felt that I was pushing it when it came to matter of holy dominion vs. satanic dominion over these young hearts and minds.  At 9:30am, I slipped  on the ice outside of the group home while I was bringing a girl who, on her 16th birthday, was miscarrying the product of prostitution. 

I do not remember how I fell, but I was later told that I was airborne, with my feet above my head.  I then landed on my head on two stacked Railroad ties, my neck landed on the ground at a right angle, then the rest of my body hit the ground.  My head flew up, hit my chest and then rested back on the ties.  

I remember floating above myself, hearing a voice from a large, protective being at my side telling me,"IF YOU DON'T GET UP NOW, YOU NEVER WILL''.   Instant panic welled within my soul to use every bit of energy to pull my body up to a sitting position on the ties.  

I went to the hospital, saw the right people.  I was sent home to rest for a few days and told to take muscle relaxes.  Three days later my (now) husband took me to the hospital and was diagnosed with dislocation in flexion, I later learned that if I looked down, my neck would dislocate.  

I was told that if my neck was how it was in the X-rays I would be paralyzed. I was sent home again, told to go to physiotherapy where I had traction on my neck every day for three months.  Needless to say I WAS BECOMING LOST, I could not even say a prayer with lucidity.  

The blood to my head was being cut off, my teeth were gray and my hair was falling out.  Upon research I learned that the treatment for dislocation was to find a good fitting wheelchair.  

I had so many encounters where Angels whispered in my ear, or warned me.  It is something I will document, but there was one day that changed my life.  In November, I finally saw a Neurologist, he said that I am very lucky (some doctors even acknowledged that this was nothing less than a miracle). This neurologist said that I should have had surgery the day I fell, but this doctor moved to the States, taking all of his files with him.  On the day I saw him I came home and lay on my bed, praying for grace, I knew I had absolutely no control over the outcome.  

I was lying on my back with my left arm outstretched, my cat was sitting over my arm and had me 'pinned' like she liked to do. In an instant room changed, I saw Keisha look up after I saw what looked like sparks coming off of her fur as though she was petted.  She then looked at me.  The room filled with warmth, safety and love. I felt cradled.  My left hand felt another hand hold it and I actually saw and felt my hand become held by another hand.  My cat saw this too and sank into the warmth.  I sensed a tall (7 ft) messenger of God letting me know that I was never alone.  

That experience has been told to so many, in more or less detail and I know that every time I tell how I became a total slave to God and his will.  Finally in January I saw a Neurosurgeon who did a fusion and instilled a titanium plate anteriorly at C4-5.  In his OR report he said that he did not need to cut the muscles, tendons or ligaments to get the disc out.  

Since that time I have been in a journey, a valley mostly.  I believe in God's Holy Angel's, that they are at everyone's call.  Psalm 91 has become a meditation for me.  there is no fear, no enemy formed against me shall prosper.  I think that God has plans for my life and talents that he gave me in exchange.  

I lived what most people would call a typical happy life. Apart from the usual teenage difficulties things were going smoothly. Our family adhered to the Lutheran tradition. Every Sunday (well, most every Sunday) mom and dad would dutifully pack us all off to church. There I learned to parrot back lots of doctrine but nothing took hold. Honestly, it was all very boring to me. In 1973 I was 20 years old, in Germany, in the midst of a 3 year hitch in the U.S. Army. There was this weird guy there (and almost 30 years later he's still weird) who was also a Lutheran. He was different. He was a Christian. Aren't all of us Lutherans Christian? I certainly thought so. Wrong! Nothing he said took hold either. One day I went to the joke that passed for a book store on our post to get something to read, simply out of boredom. I had in mind science fiction. There was this book that had a really catchy title and great graphics on the cover. Hmm, The Late Great Planet Earth, by Hal Lindsey. Never heard of it or him but it looked like a good story. I do not remember my reaction to the discovery (after the purchase) that this was a religious book but I do remember devouring the whole thing.  I just couldn't put it down. There were all sorts of scripture references in there so I got myself a Bible and looked them all up.  Hey! This stuff really IS in the Bible! What an awakening since I had been so utterly clueless before. On the very last page there was printed the sinners prayer and an invitation to accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. That seemed like the logical thing to do. There were no thunderbolts, visions, or overwrought emotions. The Lord simply walked me over from death to life. Life got considerably more interesting after that. I can not say that the Lord did all of the following but there were some lessons I needed to learn, the hard way. Since all things did work together for good the evidence (to me, anyway) points in that direction. After leaving the army I went back to the Lutheran church and I was angry. Why hadn't I heard any of this stuff before? Why hadn't I heard how to be saved?

Actually, I had. Remember, it just didn't take. Now I knew it all and I could see that there was nothing for me in the Lutheran church. What an attitude! I had set myself up for a big fall and fall I did. I spent two years in the Local Church cult of Witness Lee. It wasn't nice but it was a necessary experience. I had to learn that I didn't know it all and also how to be discerning. I never had any intention to leave that bunch but after some time it just became impossible to stay. The Lord's doing? I think so. Life went on. I completed my education and took a series of crappy jobs. Finally I was hired by a great company. The work was physically demanding but the pay was spectacular. The best part of it was that nothing short of attempted murder could get a person fired. Knowing that it was then that I had my Titanic moment, you know, "even God couldn't take this job away from me!" Instantly I was horrified by that thought and I repented but, guess what? Soon I was on the outside looking in. No, I wasn't fired, I quit! Anyone who thinks that God doesn't have a sense of humor is just plain wrong. What better way to get my attention than to make me do something and make me think it was my idea? I needed to learn humility and I was about to get a very big lesson in it. I went to Arkansas and after 6 months of fruitless searching for a job and exhausting almost all of my savings I decided that in Boston I could, at least, get a job flipping hamburgers. I returned to Boston but couldn't even get that hamburger flipping job. Homeless! 

My darkest hour had now arrived but through it all the Lord was gracious. Some time before I quit the good job there was this guy who the Lord was calling. I did my best to answer his questions while the Holy Spirit was convicting him. He was gloriously saved. That guy, knowing my situation, offered me yard work. It was heavy labor but at least I had money for food now. Shortly after that another gent arraigned a summer job for me at a railroad museum. There I lived in an old freight car but again had money for food, a place to bathe and access to laundry facilities. It took almost two full years but I was eventually rehired at my old position. Praise God! I wouldn't change any of that. All things do work together for good, for those that love him. Had none of the above happened I wouldn't be where I am now. I wouldn't be living where I am. I wouldn't be married to the same woman (if at all.) I wouldn't have my dear son. 

At about that time, my sister began to change. She started to have different friends. She told me there was a difference in Witchcraft and Satanism. She had a girl over once. While we were walking in the woods, she told me I was a natural-born witch. This seed led to a road of darkness. I was very excited. I thought I was cool now. I didn't know that the place I was going wasn't very "cool" at all.

Around age 11, I watched a movie called "The Craft." I remembered what the girl said about me being a natural-born witch. I was tantalized. I fell in love with the mystery and "wisdom" that it offered. That was when I became focused on witchcraft. I immediately went to my room, hung a red mystical curtain over my doorway ( I didn't have a door), and constructed what I would soon call an altar. I put a cloth over an old desk and put many candles on it. At night I would turn off all of the lights, light the candles, and try to conjure spirits. I still believed in God and Satan at that point. I began to ask Satan into my life at school in PE when we didn't have anything else to do. For all of the people who think your children are naïve, you are dead wrong.

In the fifth grade, I found a book at the library about witchcraft. I hid it in my jacket and walked out. I was an extremely sneaky person. I didn't want my parents to know that I was getting interested in the occult. The book was extremely vague. I didn't understand it, but I still liked it and wanted to be involved. I barely understood something about a goddess, nature, and the elements. Still, it was enough for me to have a beginning. Now that I think back on it, witchcraft is so much similar to groups like the Jehovah's Witnesses, the Mormons, or the Catholics; no structure or foundation. They changed their religion to please themselves instead of changing themselves to please God.

My darkness grew as I began casting spells, invoking spirits, and trying to form covens. I told many people that I was a witch. I had a coven of four fifth-graders gathering together at my house to do spells and chant. That would put many Christians to shame today: an 11 or 12-year old child recruiting witches while they were just sitting there, keeping their pew warm.

In the sixth or seventh grade I learned about a witchcraft shop in town. My sister took me to it. I soaked everything in. I saved up for a book I found in that shop, and even got a pack of Tarot cards for my birthday. The book was "To Ride a Silver Broomstick" by Silver RavenWolf. I began to learn more and more about "wicca". I learned that there was a god stuck in there somewhere to go along with the goddess, and they were complementary to each other (although the female was inevitably stronger, which is just another way that satan used to contradict the bible). I learned all of these rules concerning time of day, month, and year to do spells; what color candles to use, what kind of incense, all of the symbols and every piece of mumbo-jumbo I needed to perform a spell, (which they said was just a prayer involving props).

I was also very cynical towards Christians. The witchcraft books talk a great deal about Christianity. They didn't believe in it, but they sure were obsessed with discrediting it. They said all of the things Christians did that were wrong. They put all sorts of Bible verses out of context. They constantly questioned the judgement of God (ie: would a just God do that?) They also taught that all positive religions were good for you and helped in the karmic cycle. Silver RavenWolf said that if you imagine a huge diamond with millions of facets on it and wicca as the top facet (which is the biggest and the most important, of course they were trying to be the most correct way), then that was what the world religions were like. You could believe in anything and it will basically work, excluding Christianity. The Bible says that the cross offends.

I understand so much now as to why we targeted and focused so much on discrediting Christianity. We were taught the evil of monotheism, or in other words Christianity. Islam was never attacked, even though it focused on violent force and the belief in one God. Judaism was rarely ever talked about. In fact, I didn't even know the link between Jews and Christians until after I got saved. But that is coming up soon.

I searched so hard for spirituality. I wanted power. I poured over those books looking for peace. My head was filled with an endless supply of meaningless "wisdom." I thought I had it all.

In the ninth grade I began looking towards drugs and alcohol. I started with little things at first. I thank God that I never got involved too heavily. It was just marijuana, pills, and alcohol. I did, however, get addicted to other things. I began to read books by Anne Rice. It soon became an obsession; an addiction. I read the books over and over, and fantasized about characters from the books. It became almost a reality. I began to have vampiric dreams. I wanted to become a vampire. The romance and mystery had me hooked.

I sank lower and lower. I craved spirituality, and I tried to fill up my life with things that made me temporarily happy. But they say it is darkest right before dawn. In August, right before tenth grade was to start, I was invited to a church from a God send. I'll call her Bonnie. She was the only Christian I had ever respected in my life. Even though I was mostly brain washed into thinking Christians were stuffy, hypocritical people, they could never change my mind about Bonnie. She was wise, spiritual, and very loving. That is what got to me. She always loved me. She worked with my mom before I was born. All of my life, she was there. That is why I accepted her invitation to go to church.

On that first time that I went to church, I had bleached blond hair, wore camoflauge pants and shirt, and boots. I got in that building, and it just had such a wonderful feeling. The place oozed with love and acceptance. From that moment on, my philosophy began to change. I knelt at the altar at the end of the service to pray to my goddess and god, but they seemed insignificant. I knew God was real, and he was there. Within the next two or three weeks, I accepted Jesus into my heart as my personal Lord and Saviour. He has worked on me and molded me into the person I am today. That was one year ago. I am seventeen years old now. This has been the most wonderful year of my life. I have been changed from the inside out. Since then, God has recently made me into an intercessor.

My name is Ronda and this is the story of my son, Christian.  I was raised a Christian and went to the first Church of God in Springfield Ohio until I was about 11 years old.  My parents stopped going to Church and got a divorce when I was 12 years old.  I never really gave God any thought for a long time. 

When I was 24 years old I met and fell in love with a man named Charlie.  Charlie had a problem, some called it bi-polar, others called it paranoid-schitsophre... didn't really know God when I met Charlie.  Charlie told me that I needed to get closer to God, that I had forgotten who had put me on this earth. 

We had a child together when I was 26 years old.  We named him Christian.  Six months after Christian was born,  Charlie went into what is called stress induced Psychosis, or in other words, he wigged out. He tried to kidnap Christian, when I told him it would be over my dead body, Charlie proceeded to try to kill me.  The police were called and Christian was taken into protective custody.  ... spent the next six weeks praying to God for the return of my son and he told me to do whatever I had to do to get that boy back  After agreeing never to let Charlie see Christian again, moving 3 times, praying, psychological evalu... praying, drug tests, praying, parenting classes, praying, and many many court dates I finally got back custody of my precious son. 

I moved on with my life, went back to college and got a job in a hospital.  I met a man named Donnie and we got married.  We gave Christian a little brother named Cody and life was perfect. 

One Sunday morning in when Christian was 5 years old, he woke up at am screaming.  I jumped out of bed rushed to his room and asked him what was wrong.  He told me that he turned on his bedroom light and it was hurting his eyes.  I felt his forehead and he was burning up with fever.  Then he started vomiting. I assumed he just had a touch of the flu, but  I called the pediatrician anyway, she called me back in the middle of her Church service.&nbs... told me to give him pedialyte and if he couldn't keep it down take him the the ER where I worked.  Well he did not keep it down, so I took him to the hospital.   While we were there his pediatrician was called again and she left the Church to come and take care of him.  She had a blood test run and told me that his white cell count was extremely high, that it indicated a serious infection, and that we needed to find the source of the infection.  She asked Christian who I was and he just looked at me with a blank stare and said "I don't know who she is.  It broke my heart that my son did not know who I was..  After she had exhausted all the other possibilities she told me that she had arranged for Christian to be transferred to the local Children's hospital.  He needed to get a spinal tap, she believed he had spinal meningitis.  I was devastated.  I called my husband who met me at the other hospital  ... spinal tap came out positive. 

... Doctors told me at 3 am that Christian would not be leaving the hospital for quite some time and that when and if he did leave he would be deaf, blind and probably retarded, he would not be able to walk the list went on and on.  I left that room and went to the Church Chapel and prayed for God to please help my little boy. 

After 12 days in the hospital he was back to his normal self.  Today he is a perfectly normal 14 year old boy, is on the honor roll at school and skateboards all the time. 

I was trapped in a Homosexual lifestyle; well I was a success as far as the World could tell a good job, nice home, and a Lexus! Does it get better Than that? Oh yes, and a different guy every Saturday Night, That all Changed in the fall of 1995, let me tell you just what happened.

I noticed a real cute guy who lived down the street, He drove a Small truck with a Harvest Crusade bumper sticker, Now I had been a Mormon for 25 years, although not active all those years, I knew about Harvest Christian Fellowship, and Pastor Greg Laurie, it was part of the Calvary Chapel. And every year at the Anaheim Stadium they had a "Crusade " and a lot of long haired people who had nothing else to live For gave their lives to Jesus, Well I thought if that is what this guy Believed, then I could " convert " him into being a Homosexual real easy. I even sent him a note, although I didn't sign it. No matter, I was Going to somehow meet him and he would like me. Since he was a " Born Again Christian " I had better get to know something about it. I had a C-Band Satellite dish, and got " Z " music channel, Christian Music MTV Style network. I bought some CD's Michael Card, Wayne Watson, and Gary Chapman, and Maranatha Music one too. 

An SDA friend invited me to a Michael Card Concert at Loma Linda Campus Church, in Oct. 1995. Also I Invited my Neighbors over for Thanksgiving Dinner. Something just kept drawing me to " Harvest Dude " as I had nick Named him, Well Thanksgiving came, and I found out " Harvest Dude's " Name was Joe, but he would not be able to make it, He was single, and going to his parents for dinner, but he did come over and thanked me for inviting him. But the neighbor, who lived next door to Joe, Ruben came over. Ruben's wife had left him, and he had no place to go for dinner. Also, Terry, the lady across the street from me who was divorced, came over, Ruben was born again, and went to Harvest, Terry was not attending any church at the time, so Ruben invited Terry and I to Harvest. We had a great dinner, and agreed that the following Sunday, Terry, Joe, (He Found out later) Ruben and I would all attend Church. Well it was a shock! A live band on stage, (not in your wildest dreams in the Mormon Church) and everyone was dressed like they were Going to the beach! And Pastor Greg was a bald headed 40 year old! , Not at all like I had heard, a longhaired hippie freak. Well the " Praise Music" was loud and not " The old rugged cross " Songs like "Lord, I Lift your name on high " " Awesome God " and " I love your Grace." 

Also The people seemed to be singing to God, not to just sing out loud. Pastor Greg read from the Bible, not just one verse, but a whole Chapter! And then explained it in modern terms, and even made me laugh! The meeting had started at 6 p.m. and it was now 8 p.m. Two hours at Church? Pastor Greg did an altar call and about 50 or 60 people went Forward. I remember thinking I don't need to go I was a Mormon, and knew All about Jesus. 

The next week was " Hell " the water heater blew up at 2 a.m. things at my job started looking real bad, and the Lexus was giving me some trouble, also I had just broke up with a guy, and as I drove the car into the garage, I thought about letting the door close behind me and turning the radio on and just let the exhaust build up in the garage and I would just drift off to sleep forever. But something stopped me.

I went to church the following Sunday and it was about the same, but this time I almost got up at the altar call, but I said that was stupid, I already knew the Lord. Or so I thought. The week went along fine, Christmas was going to be on Monday, and it was now Saturday. I was getting out of the shower, when all of a sudden I started to cry, and I don't mean a little! Sobs and a feeling of doom came over me. I went to my bedroom and knelt by the side of the bed, I started to pray like I'd never had before, I told God that I was sorry, that I knew the life I was living was wrong, I now had no tears left, just heavy sobs, and my side hurt I never felt so bad in my whole life, then inside my mind came these words " My Son, I love you, I Forgive you." WOW! I can't tell you the joy and love that I felt, and when I got up from that prayer I had lost all my desire to sin. I no longer had a lust for men, Praise God. He had removed all that from me, and the next day was Christmas Eve, and at 9 P.M at a Christmas Eve service at Harvest Christian Fellowship I gave my life publicly over to Jesus Christ. 

I latter told Ruben, and Joe about the letters I had sent, Joe said "Praise the Lord, I have a new brother in Christ " Ruben also praised God. And said, " It doesn't matter anymore." No matter what the sin, the answer is Jesus Christ. Do you know Him? Do you know that if you died today where you would be? Romans 3:10 tells us " As it is written: "There is none righteous, no, not one." Also in Romans God’s Word tells us "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," Therefore, just as through one man sin entered the world, and death through sin, and thus death spread to all men, because all sinned—", We can see by reading God’s Word, that no man can stand in his own righteousness and that the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. Because God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. The inspired Word of God also tells us in Romans 10:13 for "whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved." Have you called on the name of the Lord? Jesus tells us in Mark 16:16". But he who does not believe will be condemned. "There is a place called hell, it is real. The Bible speaks of it as a place of eternal torment. Eternally apart from God. Again I ask you if you died today where would you go? Heaven with God, or hell apart from God Forever? 

G... Word tells us " that if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation. (Romans 10:9,10). Would you like to have all your sins forgiven, and know today that You are a child of God? You can. Just say this prayer, and really mean it. " Lord Jesus, I confess I am a sinner, I now turn from my sins, and asked you to forgive me, to come into my life. Thank-you for dying for me, Thank-you for forgiving me. In Jesus name Amen." 

If you just said that prayer, and really meant it, Jesus Christ has just entered your life. Welcome to the Family of God! In John Chapter 1 verse 12 and 13 it says, "But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name: who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." In John Chapter 3 verse 3 Jesus said, "Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. " If you said that prayer you are born again, with a spirit, and you would be led by the Spirit, the Holy Spirit, How? By reading and learning the Word of God, the Bible, and fellowshipping with true believers in Jesus Christ. In the Book of Acts it tells about the early Church and everything that is taught there will show the signs of good healthy church. 

UP... Jan 2002: Well, after asking Jesus into my heart in Dec. 1995, The Lord richly blessed me! And for One full year all of the homosexual thoughts and desires were gone, but then, one day when I was seated in church, singing a worship song, someone in a tank top and shorts walked down the isle to find a seat, and thoughts so perverse entered my mind with such force, that I really had to turn my head to see if the people seated on either side of me heard my thoughts! Well, I thought, I’d lost my salvation, here, I had told everyone that I’d been delivered from homosexuality, now a year later, I was starting to have those old thoughts and desires return! Who could I go to? I thought all my new Christian friends would run away from me now!

Well, as you know, our Lord is so faithful, and He placed godly men in my path, and well, they had never struggled with homosexuality, they were able to reassure me that I was still “saved” and that I needed to take up my cross daily and follow Him! 
So, went 1997 to 1999, In Jan of 2000, one of the Counselors at my church, asked if I would be interested in being used by the Lord to start up an ex gay ministry, so started the Rainbow Cross Ministry, we started a phone prayer team, and an email prayer team, then, a bible study six months later. The Lord was faithful to bring along side me a godly brother, who helps me and encourages me, and who has also come out of the homosexual life.

I was born into a pagan household in which my father was a devout Buddhist and my mother was agnostic. Everywhere you looked in my house, you would see idols and statues dedicated to a god or goddess that would bring us "peace" and "prosperity". Not knowing much of anything back then, I just bowed down to them as well, and asked them to bless my life.

I wish I could say that my childhood could have been easier, but that was not the case. Between the ages of 6 to 13, I was subjected to physical, emotional and sexual abuse from someone I knew very well. Because these are obviously, important and formative years in a development of a person, it left me an emotionless, scarred shell for a long time, with little desire to go on with life.

Growing up and being told by this evil person that I was "worthless" and countless other names that I would rather not try to remember was devastating to say the least. Being young, scared and weak and not having the will or the means to fight back was even worse, and even today there are some traces of this "scared little boy" in me.

Because of my father's business, we had to move out to another part of our state which was not as racially mixed as the one I had grown up in (I am a minority in this country). This inevitably led to constant teasing and endless racial discrimination at the hands of mean Middle School boys whom Satan used to destroy me. With the issues I mentioned above, having to deal with hating my racial identity was too much, and I wanted to kill myself more than anything. It got so bad that my parents had to go to the principal's office numerous times to take me out of classes because I could not take the taunting anymore. I remember going home, locking myself in my bedroom and crying. Saying things, like "God, if You really exist, than I don't want any part of knowing You." Alone and hating myself after going thru 3 years of racial strife, my mother had an idea....

There was a Military Academy that was not too far from our home, and was taking new applicants (this is a high school). With my mother's consent, I decided to transfer, just to get out of the "living hell" that I was in during my public school years. Anything was better than what I was going thru, and I became very  interested in a lot of aspects about the Academy. Because it was also a Catholic school, I had to take religious training and also had to attend Mass. Watching the other cadets recite things like "Our Father, Who are in Heaven..." and other similar creeds made me very interested in who this Jesus Christ was that they kept referring to.

It took a couple of years of soul searching, but I finally told myself that I was going to read the Bible, and I did. Needless to say, I was falling in love with the stories of David and Jonathan, of Joseph and his brothers, and of course of Jesus. Because I was also learning about the Catholic faith, I had asked someone in leadership in my local parish to sponsor me, so that I could be baptized and confirmed by the Church. He took me under his wing for 3 months and taught me about what he knew about God and how the Catholic Church operates.

When the day came for me to be both baptized and confirmed, I was excited. The Mass lasted only 40 minutes and then it was done. I was now a REAL Catholic! However, on the way out of the church, I kept staring at a woman had just lit a candle in front of a picture of the Virgin Mary, and began to kneel and pray to it. Because I was now reading the Bible on my own, I immediately began to have some doubts of whether this was appropriate or not to do. Was it idol worship she was doing? Are we supposed to bow down to images? Why is she worshipping Mary, when the Bible says to worship God alone? On the day that I was supposed to enjoy being a true Catholic, why were these thoughts in my head now?

As I was about to enter college, I had still been reading the Bible religiously everyday trying to learn more. I was excited as one of my friends from my Academy was going to room with me for our freshman year, but he canceled out at the last minute to go to another college. I was depressed about this, and was afraid that I was going to be "alone" again. So wouldn't you know it, God provided a devout, Evangelical Christian to be my roommate instead....

My roommate told me about InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, and how his family had been involved with that college ministry for years, and brought me to their first meeting of year at our campus. Immediately I began to feel like I was in the midst of family. I remember the staff worker of the fellowship giving me a copy of the NIV Bible, and I was just happy to ask really tough questions to them like - "Who created God?" - and they patiently attempted to answer them. On the first Sunday of my college life, my new friends brought me to an Evangelical Christian church and during the song, "As the Deer", I began to cry, and I realized that day that Jesus wanted me, and I confessed that I wanted Him as well and truly became saved that day!

Thru His Grace, I grew very quickly in the Lord, and enjoyed fellowship with other believers. I was re-baptized in Christ's name as I now knew Who He was and is in my life. However my heart still had scars from years past, and by His mercy, I began to deal with those issues, one at a time. It was so hard to confess what had happened to me, but God provided a men's group that loved Him, and I was able to gain wisdom from their counsel. I ended up confronting the person who abused me so miserably a few years back, and even though that person was unrepentant about what happened, I was nearing freedom, because I had learned to forgive, as Christ commanded.