Testimony Share

I woke up one glorious morning of 11^th June 1999 and everything seemed usual except me. I was very hungry for I had not eaten anything the previous day except some two eggs I had eaten in a small hotel in the city of Nairobi, Kenya, Africa.  I had spent the night in a friends room In Lower Kabete campus of the university of Nairobi situated on the outskirts of Nairobi city where I had graduated as an accountant almost a year that had lasted, on 30^th November 1998. Before graduating, I had got a job in a small firm in Nairobi only to be sacked 6 months later. Since then I had been looking for a job in the city of Nairobi. I had got saved after graduation. In this particular morning I prepared as usual and left for the city in a Nissan microbus. We had agreed to meet with another friend of mine, Muriithi, at Odeon cinema hall where maximum miracle centre, a church ministry in the city of Nairobi headed by bishop Muiru, had hired the hall for morning, lunch hour  and Sunday sermons. I was delighted to meet him there as agreed. He was a good friend of mine and had been a classmate for four years at lower Kabete campus, was saved as I was and was a source of great encouragement especially during this time when I was waiting upon the lord for a job like himself. Together we never wanted to miss lunch hour services and kesha’s (overnight prayers) at maximum miracle centre. 

On this day I had shs.40 (us $0.5) in my pocket and nothing more. During lunch time prayers, I told God that I was to test him as he allows us to test him with giving (tithes) in the book of Malachi (Malachi3:10) I contributed the whole shs40 as offering and asked God to give me lunch and fare in return. I was not expecting money from anybody or was not expecting to meet anyone who could give me money. Yet after lunchtime, as I strolled around the city with my friends, I met my dad searching for me in the streets of Nairobi! Imagine somebody searching for someone in the busy and crowded streets of Nairobi! We met miraculously in a street where no one expected the other. We greeted each other and then he broke saddening news to me. He informed me that my grandmother was dead.  

The saddening fact on my part was that she had died without having accepted Jesus Christ as her personal saviour. I felt like to weep.  After absorbing this piece of news the next thing he did was to offer me lunch even though he was complaining of lack of money. He also gave me money to spend. So I got the financial miracle I had asked from God.  But the sadness still remained in me. It was too late for me to do anything about my grandmother. She had died at a good old age but had had not known about salvation through the blood of Jesus Christ throughout her life. When a person is dead nothing can be done to save his or her soul except if may be God decides to bring her or him back to life like the way he brought Lazarus back to life(John 11:43). But it is only God who can do it at his own will, mercies and grace. For my grandmother, it didn’t happen. But dad also told me that my grandpa was seriously sick and was on the point of death. He was suffering from stroke which he had sustained as a result of a fall in his home compound. For a long time he had also been suffering from the swelling of the scrotum and poor eyesight. For a man of his age, for he was about 100 years old, there was no much hope of his surviving a disease like stroke. It was pretty dangerous for him to be operated on, yet his condition required an operation.  I believed in the healing power of Jesus. In the evening of the same day, being a Friday, my friend Muriithi and I went for overnight prayer at cameo cinema hall organized by maximum miracle centre. I narrated the whole story to him and asked him to pray for grandpa.

I asked God to communicate to me whether he would heal my grandpa.  Throughout the night, I prayed for healing and salvation of my grandfather. By morning I was assured that at least my grandfather would be saved. I must admit that I was about only 7 months old in salvation and hadn’t known much about faith as yet. But still I prayed and believed that grandpa would be healed. All I needed was encouragement from the Holy Spirit so that I could go and pray for my grandpa.  But while the Holy Spirit could not communicate to me about the healing of grandpa, he did assure me that he (grandpa) was going to accept Jesus as his personal savior.  So on 12^th June 1999, I left the city of Nairobi and bade goodbye to my friend Muriithi for Muthithi village, Maragua district in central province of Kenya where I was born and brought up and where I was to meet my grandpa. It is about a one and a half hours journey in a minibus ride.  

The journey was nice and I alighted at my village shopping centre called Muthithi.  From there, I walked a few metres, about 300m, across a river and up a ridge, to reach the remotely situated home of grandpa and late grandmother. It was an old  three roomed mabati(iron sheets) roofed mud walled house and perhaps the most valuable asset that my grandparents had ever possessed in their lives apart from their  less- than- two acre piece of land  I arrived when dusk was setting in and found women sitting outside the house seemingly gloomy and sad. They were chatting away stories in low tones expressing grieve. There was also the funeral committee gathered for the burial arrangements of my late grandma. There were also some other few men, apart from the committee members, and a few young men and ladies. The atmosphere itself was dismal. It was as if death lurked in the locality for to say the least, everyone had no hope of grandpa ever recovering from his disease and indeed he never did.   Many of my relatives were there. As for my grandpa, I met him in his bed, in an inner room which was his bedroom. 

One thing that impressed me was that he was perfectly conscious. This I discovered because he didn’t struggle to recognize me through my voice as he had always done before for he could not see properly as his eyesight was poor.  God had given me enough grace to talk about Jesus Christ to my grandfather who by then had not gone to any church for five years that had lasted. I had never known my grandpa to be a regular churchgoer throughout my life.  “Grandfather, Jesus can save you. Without getting saved through the blood he shed, and without accepting the salvation that he brought into this world through his crucifixion on the cross, you can’t see the kingdom of God.” I told him.  Apparently it seemed to be unexpected news to my grandfather. He flatly refused to listen saying that he was already saved. “Ever since I were a small boy, I got saved when I were baptized.” He said. However, I pressed on but finally when I found out that he was not willing to get saved, I left him in the bedroom to rest. During the same night, I preached to the people who had gathered there. This became the very first time that I preached to a congregation of people numbering more than ten. 

On the morning of 15.6.1999, my grandfather’s health deteriorated. We took him to a nearby health clinic and he was treated and discharged. Back at home, I gave him the word of God again. Apparently he was not prepared to get saved at all. I asked God, “Didn’t you tell me that grandfather is going to get saved?” Somehow, I felt that I needed the encouragement of another born-again person so that at least we could pray for my grandpa. I cried to God and said “if only there is another saved person here” As I were wishing for another person, a born again man, a street preacher who used to preach in the streets of Nairobi (Muhia) came along on his way home from Nairobi.

I praised God that he had answered my prayer within such a short time. “Muhia, please come here that we may pray for my grandpa” I said to him. He refused, excusing himself by saying that he first had to go home.  For a time then, I had been discussing with my grandpa outside his house about the word of God. I pitied him. If only he knew what I was asking him to do, he couldn’t have resisted even the least to take heed of it. Here, he was with little hope of surviving his disease yet resisting salvation. Somehow, I felt that there was nothing more I could do and I handed over the rest to God, never giving up.  As my grandfather was taken to his bedroom to rest I called out to God and said “God, I have never seen Satan triumph.” I had faith that God was going to save grandpa because he had told me so and he is not a man that he should lie.  I was left sitting on a bench outside the grandpa’s house, helpless and without knowing what to do next. Yet, as I sat there God brought another saved person- a lady who was my relative (Wanjiru). I praised God because although the street preacher had been unable to assist me here was another lady sent by God. There also came a man (Mustii) who was not saved and a habitual drunkard although not drunk then, who joined the two of us on the bench. We were therefore three in all.  Looking at the lady and the man I said “do you know that my grandfather is going to get saved?” The lady said “yes, if it is God’s will, he can”.  But the man said “Sammy, there is no need of telling your grandpa to get saved when he is such ill and old. Now it will bring complications to change his religion for he has been a catholic in most of his life. Moreover, he is too ill and can’t know anything about getting saved. He won’t understand when you tell him to get saved.”  Immediately I knew that this was the devils side of the story. I reminded him that religion will take no man to the kingdom of God. The man himself was a catholic but a habitual drunkard. What matters is whether you have received Jesus Christ as your saviour and whether you believe in his name and whether you have confessed about it (John 1:12 and Romans 10:9-10). 

Believe it or not, God intervened at this crucial point and a miracle occurred. We were still discussing about the possibility of grandpa getting saved when suddenly, my aunt who was in the house cooking, called out my name loudly saying “your grandpa wants you to come to his bedroom so that you can complete what you have been telling him”. I hurried into the house telling the sister in Christ to follow behind me. We found the old man awake on the bed. “Sammy, I want you to finish on what you have been telling me”, he said.  We asked him whether he wanted to get saved “yes, I want to get saved”, he said. I felt joy fill my heart. The devil is a liar and will always be a victim rather than the victor. I led the confession prayer which he repeated after me, and he became saved within a short moment. His name was written in the lamb’s book of life.  My grandfather was addicted to tobacco which he had been sniffing (through the nose) for a long time. Even as I led the salvation prayer, the snuff box lay just next to him so that he could take a pinch when need arose .Even when sick, he had been sniffing tobacco! All that a certain man could do to show hospitality to grandpa, though he did it in good faith, was to buy him tobacco (snuff) which he was now sniffing.  “Now that you have gotten saved, you must stop sniffing tobacco” I told him.  “In fact, take it and go and bury it as deep as you can under the ground. I don’t want it any more.” He answered. This pleased me a lot. I thanked God. I took the tobacco and the snuffbox and threw them away in the shamba (piece of land), where he could not reach it. Since that day he never asked for tobacco till his death. The addiction disappeared miraculously.  

Then he told me “sammy, check on the calendar and tell me the date on which I have got saved so that I can memorize it.” This came to me as a surprise. It meant that my grandfather had really got saved and was fully aware about it. Had I not just heard the man I had been sitting with outside say that grandpa could not understand anything about salvation?  It was on 15^th June 1999 and I told him so. “So I have got saved on 15^th June 1999” he said. After some more prayers we left him so that he could rest.  The next day his health deteriorated and we took him to Murang’a district hospital where he was admitted. I spent the night in the hospital looking after him. In the few days that followed before his death, I occasionally visited him to comfort and encourage him about salvation telling him “praise God”, and him answering “Amen”. He could assure me that he was still saved.  Ten days after his admission to Murang’a district hospital, on a fine morning at around 6 AM, the old man passed away when I were at the ablutions washing a container which I was supposed to go and use to fetch some milk for him from a nearby kiosk. I saw it in a short vision while at the ablutions. He passed away when my aunt, her daughter, was standing by his bedside and aunt could not believe it because it was difficult to tell whether he was dead by looking at his face for he had died peacefully and wore an apparent expression of calmness on his face. My aunt had to look for someone else to come and confirm that he was actually dead.  As for me, I asked God in a short prayer which I said in the hospital in my heart to show me a vision or otherwise to let me know truly that he had taken my grandpa himself and not the devil.

When in the matatu (commuter vehicle), on our way home, the spirit of God impressed  me in my heart that it was in fact not I to see the vision but some other people especially my mother.  We (my aunt and I) broke the news about the death of grandpa back in our village. After that, I went into the kitchen room to warm myself as well as wait for tea to get ready. It was still in the morning. As I sat there beside a traditional three stone cooker, some women also gathered there and started discussing about my late grandfather and late grandmother. One woman who had been their neighbour and relative talked about a vision she had seen the previous night about grandpa. “Yesterday night, I saw Gerald being escorted home by some two very clean men, one on the right and the other one on the left.” She said. Then my mother said “I also saw a vision. Just the other day, I saw in a dream very bright, gleaming light” my mother added that she felt the gleaning light had something to do with my grandfather. I knew that it was the Glory of God similar to what Stephen of the bible saw before his death. (Acts 7:55) I thanked God that he had answered my prayer for I believe these are the visions he had told me would be seen by some other people and especially my mother. 

Funeral arrangements for grandpa were done and a few days later his body was brought from the mortuary and buried. Only very few people really knew about what had happened to Grandpa about salvation. My grandmother had been buried a few days before. I give glory to almighty God who lives and whose love endures forever for saving grandpa at such an advanced age. In our community, the age of old people like him can only be deduced by looking at the name of their age groups because they do not have official records to show their age. According to the age group to which my grandfather belonged and from views of some people, grandfather was thought to be about 100 years old.    I thank God for giving him a sober mind at that age and in sickness.  Without Jesus we can’t do anything. May his name be praised forever. 

not sure about my dreams… the eyes of god possibly, the weather, other dreams

I ‘ve been filled with the holy ghost as a young child. I started having dreams after i got filled with the holy ghost most of them frightening. I’m  21 and i attend Kent State University. This one time I was sitting in the kicthen in my grandma house read Rod Parsley.. I was about 11… then i heard this music this was the beautifulist music I  ever heard… it felt like something was sprinklin down on me.. then something said go to the bathroom and pray. I didn’t go because I was scared. I can say honestly I’ve been in and out of church. I’ ve had dreams about tornado’s, earthquakes and snowstorms. All those dreams came true not immediately. I had this dream not so long ago… I was in a building it had two layers. There were lot’s of people.  My best friend was there. Thunder was hitting the building it was shaking… people were frantic. I was trying to help my best friend up on the second layer… All of a sudden  i seen this cross fall Something said I AM JESUS ON THE CROSS.. I woke up and there were some pink eyes in front of my face. Lately I’ve stopped listening to rap music… I decided a few days ago that I will give my life fully over to God. Hallejuah! I also had a dream about this big tidle wave I was on a beach… this helicopter came out of no where it was on fire.. then I went to my grandma house and told her God is coming back. When i was a child i had a dream about the moon breaking and falling from the sky.. my grandma was speaking in tongues. I had a dream that there was a dragon in the sky and the whole downtown skyline was on fire.. I was a child when I had this dream. Also when I was about 16 my uncle who is a pastor (he was called by God when he was young… given a gift to cast out demons) a group of people were in a circle.. he was praying on me saying i am the son of amos… i am a girl… that’s not all but I just wanna give God the glory! Hopefully someone could tell me was that God’s eyes I seen. Hallejuah! Praise God! Hallejuah thank u Jesus. He is the true and living God.

When I was fifteen years old I had a dream. It came to me on a schoolbus on my way home. This was my dream:

I was in heaven with the redeemed. We were very happy to finally be home where peace and joy reign forever. There I saw Jesus and a long wooden table that was going to be used for a special feast. There were delicious things on that table {shame I can’t remember what they were, oh, well}, lots of things that would make a person’s mouth water. Jesus called us over and told us that the preparations weren’t finished, there had to be some fruit to go along with the food. Then He gave us big baskets and told us to go and gather fruit for the feast. We joyfully went through the woods to find some that would please Him. During my search I found some big juicy ones and filled my basket up to the top with them. When I was done I went to join my brothers and sisters, who were now standing in line waiting to show the Master their pickings. Jesus smiled at each one that showed his/her fruit to Him and told them that they were very good. Then my turn came. I gladly gave Him my basket and watched anxiously as He looked through it. Then He stopped, looked up into heaven and said: “This fruit is very good.” I was about to say something when….POOF! the dream ended.

I woke up and excitedly told my friend sitting in the front seat that I had just dreamed a wonderful dream. My friend smiled at me, then went back to sleep {the long trip was making her tired too}. I happily sat in my seat and thanked God for the mental experience I had.

It’s now been nine years ago and I haven’t forgotten that dream. The sermons I heard and the Bible verses I read about fruit bearing opened my eyes to the meaning of that picture:

We are all called to bear fruit for Jesus. The fruit is the characteristics of the Holy Spirit {see Gal. 5:22-25} and when we ask Him to dwell in us our hearts will be overflowing with His fruit {like the baskets in the dream}. And when Jesus comes again to take us home to heaven He will be pleased when He sees what we’ve gathered for Him.

God showed me in a personal way that His main goal for me is to bear fruit for His glory. And I hope to do it well with His help. 

And friend, that’s His goal for you too. Do you want to do it?  

My name is Brandon and this is my story. As a child I was overweight, shy, red-headed and wore glasses, a quadruple whammy. Needless to say I had a horrible time on the bus rides to school. As a teenager I struggled with depression, horrible depression at times. After I graduated and dropped out of college, I met some guys that were into the grateful dead. I went to my first concert and this started a wild time in my life of endless travel and crazy times. I don’t regret the travel, I was able to see so much of our country. I do regret some of the crazy times with drugs and alcohol. When it was all said and done I saw the grateful dead 52 times and visited everywhere from Boston to Miami and San Diego to San Francisco. I also found the best dog I have ever known at a show in Miami. My dog ‘Jerry’ was with me for over 10 years and got me through some tough times (see below).

Around this time I was about 350 pounds at my heaviest! I finally moved out on my own at 24 to Markleysburg, an hour and a half away from everybody I knew. I was very isolated, just me and Jerry. I had a horrible body image problem. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. It would start a brutal onslaught of self-abuse. I would just stand there and say “you are an ugly piece of garbage” or “Look at you, you are disgusting” Etc… it was relentless and endless, and got quite creative in it’s brutality. After 10 minutes of this I would just be exhausted.

Around 24 or 25 I became interested in healthy eating, and I REALLY got into it. I lost 60 Lbs just by watching my diet. Then I joined the YMCA and started to walk. I would go to the General Nutritition Center at the mall and weigh myself on the scale that gives you a slip of paper with your weight on it. I would dream of the day when that slip of paper would say 200lbs! I still remember when I decided to jog for a mile on the treadmill. I thought I was going to die but I did it! I ran a mile, and I did it again the next day. Lo and behold the day came when that little slip of paper at the mall said “199lbs and 11oz”. I was on cloud nine. The weight continued to drop yet I felt fatter then ever! Soon I was down to 180lbs!!! Everybody was telling me that I had to stop losing weight. I felt so fat, so ugly, so disgusting. I can’t express enough how bad the body image problem was. It never left me. I would drink and get high to get away from it. I remember a frequent saying in my mind was “I am sick and tired of being sick and tired” and “what am I gonna do now”.

On one particular summer day I was full of darkness once again and like usual caught a fateful glimpse of myself in the mirror and it started. The radio was playing in the background and I came out of my bathroom beaten up again. I said to myself “what am I going to do now?” at that exact moment a song was playing by ‘The Who’ called “Don’t get fooled again”. The chorus of the song goes “pick up my guitar and play, just like yesterday and I’ll get on my knees and pray-don’t get fooled again” I asked “what am I gonna do now?” God told me-Pick up your guitar and play, just like yesterday, and get on your knees and pray, DON’T GET FOOLED AGAIN! The thunder crashed in my soul! It hit me all at once. I realized in one moment what had been happening FOR YEARS! I was being fooled, I was being held down. Satan was using MY VOICE! It sounded like me, the voice that spoke in the mirror that said how ugly I was! It wasn’t me! Dear God it wasn’t me! I was fooled, again and again. Tears flowed down my face and I screamed, I cried! The devil had suffered a defeat and he knew it. ALL AT ONCE it ended, that’s how I came to the Lord. I grew up hearing about Jesus and God, yet I didn’t come to God until I found out how hard satan was working to keep me from HIM!

After I got off my knees in my kitchen I walked into my bathroom and looked in the mirror–and I Smiled! Maybe for the first time ever I looked at myself honestly and I smiled. I said “you’re not that ugly” LOL… I’m not ugly, neither are you…We are beautiful!!!! I didn’t have a complex, I didn’t have some mental disorder. I know this because such things do not disappear in ONE MOMENT! In one moment of divine intervention I was made clean! The proof is in the pudding, within two years of that day I met Catherine, the love of my life. The woman I stand beside on Sunday morning and sing praises to God with (she and I lead the praise team at our church). I don’t have enough time or space in this message to tell you of all the things that have happened since that day that prove God’s purpose for my life. All I know is, satan knew enough to be afraid of what I could do for the Kingdom, he wanted me right in front of that mirror. he wanted me to stay there. God had other plans. I want everyone who reads this to know that satan is stealing your voice in one way or another. Let God help you figure out what way that is. It might not be with self image, but it’s something. satan wants you ineffective, worthless, tired, and scared. God wants you SANCTIFIED! Powered by the Holy Spirit. I can’t believe how far I’ve come. Since that fateful day I’ve been in a horrible ATV wreck and lost my spleen, and even gained back too much of the weight that I worked so hard to lose. Yet I look in the mirror with a clean heart, and a voice that says “I won’t be fooled again”, and I SMILE!

Author: Edward D Fleming, Republished: Sat, 1-26-2008

“When the lord called my name” I would like at this time to share with you a part of my testimony and what my Lord Jesus has done for my soul and all glory goes to him. I was born in the hills of West Virginia on Sept. 7th 1946 to Robert and Thula Fleming the second of eight children. My father was a coal miner. Love was strong and noticeable in our home.(note : my dad went home to be with my lord Jesus in Sept. Of 2006). Mother was and still is a warrior of the cross and bound for the promised land. Edward D. Fleming was the name given to me. The (D) was for Daniel ( God is my judge). In my early years, my mother said I was the one that had an interest in the bible more than my other brothers and sisters, so as I was growing up I would spend a lot of time alone in the hills and woods. I loved the wild animals. My early life was all right. It wasn’t until I left home that the trouble started with the drugs and drinking and all that went with it. At the age of 19, my oldest brother and I, left home for the northern cities looking for work and came to a place called Flint Michigan to work in the automobile plants building cars. This is where the drugs and drinking really went from bad to worse. Being married at that time with one child, times where good and bad, but more bad than good. Things started going down. Soon there were three more chidren. My wife and I were drifting apart (it was mostly my wrong doing and bad choices) until we went our separate ways and I just got deep into drugs and drinking. There was no end in sight. I wanted to go back home to West Virginia but that didn’t happen. I just didn’t care anymore about life, and I just wanted out and the only ones who really knew that were my mother and my GOD of course. THEN one day it all came crashing down around me.

At this point in my life, it was over and it seemed like there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. That is when I heard this voice, like it was calling my name and that, I couldn’t figure and at the same time I felt a peace come over me, there in my little two room apartment. Some how I knew it was my GOD and right there on the floor I began to cry out to him the only way I knew and it seemed like he put his hand on my head and it was so warm. It was like heat flowing down through me. After that things started changing, not real fast but change had come. My wife had moved away for awhile. We never got back together but I was able to see my children and that was great. NOW if you don’t mind I would just like to share with you what happened after I was saved. The war was on. It’s like this. I owe it all to my Lord JESUS to him be the glory, because I have been in some of the most wretched, miserable conditions for a Christian that any one could ever have been in, and every time the Lord came and rescued me out of it, every time. Then the unthinkable happened. One of my daughers was smitten with cancer and died at the age of 23. There is a long testimony about that but I’ll share that at another time. Just one year or so after that my only son was shot to death at the age of 23 as well, Like I said the war was on. I started drifting away from my Lord Jesus in all of that. Trouble was there again and it wasn’t long before I was back in the dark. I had been months in darkness, months in thinking that the Lord had left me. I though that I really offended him.

There was a time in my walk that I served the Lord with all my heart and still I failed. You see all the wrong choices caused things like that to happen. At times I could feel the cold darkness of death all around me just closing in on every side so fast and hard. Sometimes it was even hard to breath. I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I was in a back-slidden state. I had left the church and the ministry. I just started running, going nowhere fast. It got worse and worse the more I ran. The pain was so heavy and there were no more tears to cry. I felt anger slowly creeping in, starting to take control of my life and there was nothing I could do about it and that was scary. I was so weak and worn out and just fed up with it all. There was no one to turn to, and I was so all alone, thinking at times about my children. All my nights where sleepless not wanting to see the next day, just wanting to die. I was in my own world of hell on earth, but once again the voice of my Lord Jesus came to me in the night. It had been such a long time. I was so frightened that I trembled. I knew that it was my Lord Jesus and I was so ashamed. I felt so naked before him. I just began to weep out of control. Tears that I once could not cry came back to me that day and my heart was hurting so bad I knew that my Lord Jesus had come for me and then I heard him say to me…. ” DANIEL (my middle name), you are mine and I love you so much and I have plans for you, for it is almost time for me to return and I have something that I want to do in and through you and when I called you it was not the wrong choice, for it is my desire that you live for me, that I may through you show myself to this world. I have many more sons and daughters just like you that I have plans for in this last hour of time. Know this and know it well. You are mine and I called you by your name. I am going to reveal my will in your life. No more running. No more hiding. It is time for you to let me rise up in you for the last time. I will have it no other way.” That’s what my lord Jesus had said to me and no matter what anybody says, from this point on it is my only desire, and that is to let my God have his way and no other, for there is none no not one but my LORD JESUS.

TO MY GOD BE THE GLORY!! PS. Please pass this on, thank you for taking the time to read my testimony “Thank you, My Lord Jesus”

I have been a Christian for 11 months.  I cannot feel God’s presence so it makes me wonder if God is really there for me. I mean, maybe I have committed some sin that He cannot forgive.  I have been prayed over many times by people in my church.  I have diligently prayed the prayers I’m supposed to. I read the Bible (although in truth, they are just words on a page).  While it’s true my life is not great right now, my main concern is “connecting with God”, feeling God’s presence so I can trust that He’s there for me.  I attend a Pentecostal church.  I get very emotional at church services, even though I don’t want to be emotional.  If I know I’m particularly emotional on a Sunday I skip church because I just can’t handle another sobfest.  Everyone around me in church is filled with the Holy Spirit.  I have only felt the Holy Spirit once. It was about a week after I accepted Christ as my saviour.  The Holy Spirit told me not to do something - very strongly.  I would really appreciate some advice from a Christian that is in the same boat as me.

This is a very recent testimony. My period started normally but before the end of the day i started feeling some unbearable pain on one side of my tummy. It was so terrible that i was moving from one side of the bed to another in agony. I called my fiance and told him about it and he told me if i read some chapters in the book of psalm into a drinking water and drink it i’l be fine. I did exactly as he said. i had an opened 7up so i decided to use it. i read two chapters of psalm that was praising God and that was asking God to deliver, i then prayed afterward and told God to heal me and that i believe his words that i have just read. After doing this i slept and woke up some hours. I felt so much better afterward. The pain is gone and its gone even as im presently saying it. I believe the word of the lord and i encourage people not to be scared to take the step of faith because God only wants you to believe, you just leave the rest to him for him to do and he will surely do it for you. God answers prayers and he will surprise you. Glory be to the almighty God.

In this dream I had Jesus was in front of me and behind him was a group of people. These people were blurry and I could not make out any facial features or recognize who they were. They were all saying “Come On, Come On” and I could tell they wanting me to go where they were. In front of me was pure white that was everywhere with Jesus and the blurry people and behind me was pure darkness. I could feel there was something in the darkness, but I could not see anything for the black. All I knew was that I did not want to be anywhere near the darkness. The darkness was frightening. Then all of a sudden I felt the urge to say “ I Repent.” Once I said “I Repent” there was a door that appeared and was wide open and I felt a relief and I forgot about the pitch-black darkness that was behind me.

The blurry people went through the door and then Jesus went through. I just stood there frozen. Then I thought “ Can I Come or Is it to Late?” Then a hand went through the opening of the door and motioned me to come. I got excited and went towards the open door. When I did I noticed the darkness from behind me start to come closer towards me. I started to panic and when I turned around the door was right in front of me but it was shut and had locks on it. The locks were on my side of the door, so in a panic I unlocked all the locks and opened the door. When I finally got the door unlocked and went through the door I woke up.

I am not sure what this dream meant, but I cannot stress enough the importance of REPENTING for your sins. Jesus takes it very seriously and you do not want to be anywhere near the darkness. No matter what you have done in your life confess it to Jesus and REPENT with your whole heart and be sincere because Jesus knows if you are lying. Jesus and God are very forgiving and merciful. They have heard and seen it all before, so don’t be afraid. Jesus is very real and so is the darkness. Jesus died on the cross to forgive us of our sins make sure you take advantage of that, because the darkness is horrifying and I did not even go in there.

My hair was very long toward the end of the 1960’s. I wore an earring and a ring in my nose. I carried a crowbar and a meat cleaver, but later found a gun to be more practical. I used all kinds of drugs including LSD, speed, psilocybin, marijuana, hashish and alcohol. I rode around with a motorcycle club and wore the same dirty clothes month after month

I became involved in all kinds of crime. One day I might be making arrangements for a prostitute to turn a trick so I could have my cut of the money. The next day I might be planning to steal something or selling something that was stolen or selling drugs. It really didn’t matter much to me what it was as long as I profited by it. I would hurt anyone that got in my way, even my own family. In fact I had grown so cold in my heart and so far from God that it would have been very easy to take someone’s life. The truth is I planned on it on more then one occasion. However I had already been behindbars too many times. Not being certain I would get away with ending anybody’s life, (without ending up in prison) it prevented me from carrying out the evil that was in my heart

Once when I was living in Rockford, Illinois and needed to settle a score with a man in Chicago I took three friends and drove south. When I found the neighborhood I wanted it seemed the streets were totally empty. We pulled into a gas station to get better directions and realized it was closed like everything else. We had decided to use the phone in front of the station when it seemed as if every cop in Chicago pulled into the station at the same time. They were in no mood for playing games as they tore our car apart. They searched me at least three times. They found my gun of course, but this seemed like such overkill that I couldn’t understand it. If we had been listening to the radio we might have heard there was a race riot in progress.

Well, well, can you just imagine that. The Chicago police had caught four armed white boys who had come to their fair city for a short visit during a race riot. There was no point in even trying to talk to them. We were in a police wagon with an overweight cop and a shotgun (he had the shotgun) before we realized what was going on anyway.I seriously doubt Cook County jail has ever been more overcrowded. It took them forever to process that many prisoners. I was beginning to think we would never be fed. I believe it must have been when they were doing the paper work that Chicago’s finest began to realize they had been a little over zealous. (Don’t misunderstand, I’m not trying to be critical as I probably would have done the same in their position.)

We had after all broken no laws by attempting to use a public pay telephone. They had no legal right to search us or our car. What this all boiled down to is this. If the police turn up a gun during an “Illegal search and seizure” it is a simple matter to have the evidence suppressed. No weapon, no charges, Simple as that.

As it dawned on someone that we would eventually walk away from these charges a decision must have been made “to teach us a lesson”. They used holding cells where prisoners can be held temporarily while processing the paper work or whatever. These cells might have been made for 30 or 40 prisoners but now were bursting with 75 or more. During race riots at least, the cells would be segregated. The Chicago police department placed the four of us in an all black cell (No, I’m not trying to say it was painted black).

Once when I was in custody, I was taken to a lineup with a few other prisoners. We were told to repeat some phrases and it soon become obvious they were looking for a rapist. To my horror I heard a woman say “That’s him”. I hadn’t been in that city long enough to rape anybody if I had wanted to. When I opened my mouth, a cop asked me if I would like to have my head rammed through a nearby locker.

This seemed to be an excellent time to exercise some discretion so I declined his offer and closed my normally loud mouth. I waited till opportunity presented itself and inquired as to the time of the alleged rape. When an officer informed me I could hardly believe my ears. I had been lost earlier in the day and had stopped (of all places to ask directions) at a police station. My visit to that station had coincided precisely with the time of the rape. To top it all off, I’m normally poor at remembering names, but this desk Sergeant’s name I remembered. His name was O’Malley. A perfect stereotype name for a cop. Had it been anything different I doubt very much I would have ever remembered it.

I told the officer I had been at a station asking directions at the time in question and told him the desk Sergeant’s name. He turned out to be a really decent guy and went to check my story instead of laughing in my face, which he could have easily done. Lets face it, the problem was mine not his! He left and made some phone calls to confirm my story.

Upon his return the officer put an end to the whole rape business. Thank God for that officer. It is an experience such as this, that so graphically demonstrates how easy it is to land in prison.

It was amazing that with all the trouble I had gotten into, and the friends I keep, that my record was almost clean! I had one “unlawful use of weapons’ and one “minor in possession” from a while back. The second charge came one day when I was 19 or 20 years old. I was driving with a friend named Jesse Witt. We each had a beer in our hand when we were pulled over by the police. I didn’t think much of it, because the car was clean and there was no warrants for either of us. Jesse however had an intense hatred of the law. He had served a few years in Ionia (A Maximum Correctional Facility in Michigan) and swore he was not going back.

Jesse was normally very quiet and laid back, but could be fearless at times. Once when one of the clubs from Detroit came to my place to visit, (I think they wanted to know more about us) Jesse went back with them alone to party. I think they had left before I even knew what was going on. A few day later he showed up and said they had given him an impressive tour. It was a crazy thing to do but Jesse wasn’t good at backing down. I’m sure the police would have let us go with our can of beer, but normally “very quiet and laid back” Jesse couldn’t keep his hatred inside, so I ended up with a “minor in possession” on my nearly clean record. I had helped him acquire a pistol (I think it was a 38) that he used in a shoot out with the police. He was killed in that gunfight. He was a good friend that I trusted and still think of him often

One day I was sharing drugs with some friends of mine from the bike club. We were passing a marijuana pipe around when there was a knock at the door. I went to the door to find my porch filled with cops. I gave a warning and delayed opening the door as long as I could. When I opened it, a cop informed me he had a warrant for Zip, (the name I was know by). He asked if I was Zip. Although they didn’t know my proper name, I was too well known as Zip to lie about it. If they had a warrant, they must have had someone who could identify me. All past attempts to prosecute me for anything worth talking about had failed. I wasn’t too worried about the cops and their warrant. I told them I was Zip and after a search of my place turned up nothing useful to them, we went downtown.

When I found out what they had on me, I though it was a joke. That was a failure on my part to recognize how determined the state of Michigan had become in their efforts to remove me from society.

Remember this was toward the end of the 1960’s when the whole world seemed to be smoking marijuana. In Ann Arbor, A collage town about fifty miles south of Flint, they had got to the place where they were writing tickets for possession of small amounts. For a few years, it seemed like everybody had turned to drugs. I had sold a nickel bag to some guy who had been busted for something, and was ready to do anything to keep out of prison.

The Governor of the state of Michigan had declared war on the bike clubs. This may have had something to do with it, I don’t know.

The police informed me I had sold a teaspoon of marijuana to their guy, and he would testify against me. Apparently I had made a second sale they also knew about. The plan was to get me with one of the two sales. It seemed like such a waste of their time considering all the things I was mixed up in. In no time, I made bond and was back on the street.

This was a time in my life totally given to drugs. I was being destroyed by them. During this time I was living in an old and large house in a rough part of town. I had rented a second house nearby where I could go to hide or sleep. My main house had a third floor that was all one big room. I fixed up the third floor to hold my drug parties in. I had spent weeks turning it into a place people would never forget. It was filled with optical illusions and things to confound the mind at the best of times. I have seen people leave that were not on drugs because of all the optical illusions confusing their mind. There was an unending parade of people at the door hoping to gain access to the trip room. No one would think of visiting without bring a gift of drugs.

It was about a year before my trial date on that nickel bag came due. I was so high all the time that I didn’t think a lot about it. My lawyer said they were charging me with something unusual. Law enforcement agencies were successful in taking down John Sinclair (Also born in Flint, Michigan) by viewing marijuana as a narcotic. In July 1969 Sinclair was sentenced to prison for 9 ½ to 10 years for possession of two marijuana cigarettes. Two-and-a-half years of legal and political battles culminated at Crisler Arena in Ann Arbor on December 10, 1971, when 15,000 people attended the Free John Now Rally headlined by John Lennon and Yoko Ono. Just three days later, the Michigan supreme Court, on its own motion, ordered Sinclair released and later overturned his conviction, upholding his contention that Michigan’s marijuana statutes were unconstitutional and void.

I was being charged with “Sale of an illegal narcotic”. John’s possession charge got him ten years. My charge was “sales” which carried a 20 year minimum and a possibility of life if convicted. Yes, I said the charges carried a twenty to life sentence if convicted of selling a teaspoon of marijuana. As I said, they had me on a second sale. If I found a way to beat the first charge, they were going to prosecute me on the second one. I was looking at as much as two life sentences if they pushed it. I believe this law was intended for opium, heroin, or cocaine, etc. but not marijuana as it is not considered a narcotic.

I was under the influence of too many drugs to fully appreciate what the state of Michigan was trying to do to me. On the first day of my trial, I was still thinking I was invincible. As the proceedings began and I heard the evidence being presented against me, my invincibility began to dissipate. The judge asked me if I understood the seriousness of the charges against me. He said I was facing twenty years to life if convicted. He also made note of a second charge pending. It was about then I began to see the case was going to be of a more serious nature than I had anticipated. I was feeling more than a bit uncomfortable while the jury selection was taking place.

Obviously, they wanted me off their streets, so I began to formulate my own plan to accomplish this. As the day wore on, the drugs wore off. What seemed like many hours later the judge said “It’s getting late in the day and I’m going to adjourn court till nine A.M. tomorrow morning”. He called me to the bench and said I was still on bond and therefore free to go till nine A.M. the following day. Unlike John Sinclair, I had no plans to sit in prison and wait for laws to change, with or without my help.

I went home and made my plans to leave town. I stopped across the street at the pool hall to say good bye to Samson, who ran the place. When I told him I was going he emptied the pool tables and pinball machines and give me all the cash he could scrap up. He hugged my neck and told me to be careful.

It was late evening when Gypsy Jack pulled up in his hearse. Jack was a living legend among bikers. He wore a ring in his nose before I did. (something unheard of back then) He was once featured on a TV show called “Real People”. I told Jack I was leaving and he asked me if I wanted to climb into the back of his hearse with his old lady. (Not his wife, Peggy) I declined and we said our goodbyes.

I decided to go to Canada because the place was full of American draft dodger at the time. I hoped the Canadians would assume I was just another draft dodger hiding out from the Vietnam conflict. I got together a sleeping bag and what little cash I could find on such short notice. About midnight I was saying goodbyes and about ready to go when the neighborhood police showed up. They were young guys and new on that beat. They had heard about the trip room and asked if I would show it to them. They may have been told to
keep an eye on me that night. We visited for a while and after they left, I did likewise.

A friend and my old lady drove me into Canada Via the Detroit, Windsor border. We thought with more traffic at the Windsor border it would be easier to cross than at the Sarnia crossing. To my dismay I found Windsor too small to hide in. When my friend drove me to Chatham, the next city, it proved to be almost as small. They needed to hurry home before I was discovered missing. Chatham would have to do, because we were running out of time. I told my old lady goodbye knowing I might not ever see her, or our son again.

They continued the trail without me and the jury found me guilty. The judge sentenced me to 25 to 40 years in prison. He then issued a Federal warrant for “flight to avoid prosecution.” For the next 10 years I was a fugitive with the police hot on my trail. I had a number of narrow escapes.

I was working at a record store in Toronto, Ontario one day when I had volunteered to run an errand to the office supply store across the street. On my return trip I noticed a police cruiser pass on the opposite side of the street. Always alert for signs of trouble, I tensed up but continued walking. He thought he recognized me and made a u-turn on that busy street.

Leaping out of his car he confronted me there on the sidewalk as I was about to enter the record store. The odds didn’t seem to be too bad against me since we were on Yonge Street near the corner of Bloor. That’s one of the busiest places in the city. The sidewalks were full of people and the street was jammed with cars. I knew the subway was very close by and it was after all only one cop. He seemed a little unsure of himself and I thought I could bluff my way out of this.

As we sat in his car he started to tell me I was wanted. He had not arrested or handcuffed me so I knew he wasn’t sure who I was. I told him he was wrong as he stared at me trying to remember. Soon he started to tell me how I had changed my appearance and he was right. I keep telling him he was mistaken and that I worked at the record store we were parked in front of.

I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable when he waved at another cruiser that happened to drive by. When that officer came up to his window he asked him if he could identify me. After a long hard look he said no. I kept on lying and soon had them convinced they had made a mistake. They decided to release me. However, one of them said he’d return to the record store where I was working and he’d show me a mug shot of my twin brother! Of course, I didn’t wait for him to return with that photo.

On another occasion when I was living in a boarding house, I heard someone speaking in the hall way. Being on the second floor, I opened my door slowly and looked down the stairway to see who it was. The police had entered the building and were speaking to my landlord. I could hear them well enough to tell they were looking for someone. There was a small chance they had the building surrounded.

I was on the second floor and knew it would not be easy to slip away unnoticed. I thought my best opportunity for escape was to hide in someone else’s room. I remember picking up a large kitchen knife as I hid myself in another room. I was prepared to end my life rather than be locked up forever. The police did not search the entire building and I was eventually able to make my escape.

One of my worst experiences was in northern Ontario where I hid at a farmhouse near Algonquin Park. I was standing in the driveway late one afternoon when two cars drove up, both filled with R.C.M.P. (Royal Canadian Mounted Police).

It was wintertime with snow deeper in places that I am tall. I dreaded running in the bitterly cold weather, and without snow shoes or food. I decided I’d better try to bluff my way through again.

I answered a few questions but soon realized the Mountie asking them was not believing my answers. Running seemed to be my only hope, so I made a dash for the distant forest. I knew a hail of gunfire could stop me from ever reaching the woods. I was unarmed and the odds were against me.

Evidently I took The Mounties by complete surprise. They thought I couldn’t get far in such cold weather and deep snow, so they didn’t pursue me immediately. They had underestimated my determination to elude capture. Apparently it didn’t take them long to realize the seriousness of that error. I learned later that within hours they brought in dogs and tried to pick up my trail.

When I began running, I threw away my long fur coat because it slowed me down. That was a mistake I soon regretted. The icy wind threatened to freeze me to death as I ran. It seemed incredibly slow with every step a struggle against the snow and bitter cold.

I came to the shallow end of a lake with a huge marshy area covered with ice and snow. The marsh went right up to the road which by now I knew would be infested with Mounties. The lake was much too big to go around leaving me with only one unpleasant choice. I began crossing the marsh when my worst fears were realized. The ice was thinner than I had hoped and it broke. My feet were soaked. How long I wondered before they began to freeze.

I continued running as the odds mounted against me. The sun was going down, leaving me with no sense of direction. Running parallel to a road now became necessary. If I ventured too far into the bush and got lost, I ran the risk of becoming little more than an interesting article in the news when the spring thaw revealed my body. Freezing to death while lost in the “Great Canadian Wilderness” was not the happy ending I had envisioned for my life.

I worked my way parallel to a road as exhaustion set in. It had become fairly dark and I was stumbling more and falling often. At one point I rolled down a somewhat steep embankment. Had it been much bigger I might have been seriously injured or worse.

It must have been close to midnight when I was starting to hallucinate from the cold. I actually felt warm again when I realized I was freezing to death. Being totally exhausted and hungry didn’t help the situation either. Refusing to lay down in the snow and give up, I came out on the road to look for help. The road had been plowed and that made walking a little easier. I had not walked far when I found a small cabin with lights still burning at that late hour. Dragging myself to their door, I knocked and hoped for the best.

I was greeted by a couple in their forty’s. When I asked for help they took me in without any hesitation. They set me by the fire and wrapped me up in blankets. It took some effort to remove the frozen boots. Perhaps the constant running was what keep me from losing my feet. Thankfully, I didn’t lose so much as a toe even though the boots were actually frozen onto my feet! (Thank God!) They gave me some warm food and tried to dry my clothes.

I told them the police were after me and asked if they had seen them around. They said they hadn’t. I told them I was going to try and make it to Barry’s Bay, a small nearby town. When I felt nearly revived and thawed out, I got ready to leave. They asked me if I wanted to wait in the house while they drove into Barry’s Bay. They said they could see if there was a roadblock or any police presents at all.

I welcomed their offer knowing this information could bring some peace of mind. They returned within an hour informing me the way seemed clear. I thanked these kind people for their help and continued upon my journey with renewed vigor.

Had all this taken place in a large city, the outcome may have varied greatly. People seem to be different in a rural area. Your life could easily depend on your nearest neighbor and vise, versa. I doubt the thought that I was a threat to them ever crossed their minds. Likewise I never gave way to thoughts that they could betray me, or return with the Mounties.

Most of the night I continued running. Just after sunrise I was able to contact a friend. He helped me change my appearance and bought me a bus ticket.

The tickets agents seemed quite interested in me. As I waited for the bus they kept looking my way. I boarded the bus and an hour later it stopped for lunch. A man whom I recognized to be a plainclothes policeman strolled into the restaurant for coffee and casually sat down by the bus driver. Evidently the ticket agents had tipped off the police, and I knew they would be waiting for me at a roadblock a few miles down the road.

As we were boarding the bus the plainclothes officer got in his car. When the bus pulled out, the officer drove out ahead of us and turned in the opposite direction. So I saw my opportunity. I told the bus driver to let me off the bus, and I hurried back to the gas station next to the restaurant, where I called for a taxi. When the taxi came I jumped in and crouched on the floor, telling the driver to leave quickly. He did so, and informed me that the police were driving in as we were driving out! The taxi dropped me off at a little store several miles down the road. I contacted a friend who drove me to Peterborough, where I hid in a movie theater until there was a bus leaving for Toronto. Once in that big city I began to breathe more freely. Very few people could possibly understand the torment I suffered as a fugitive.

For 10 years I lived in fear, running for my life. The police were everywhere I turned. Relentless as they were in their pursuit, I found myself being pursued by an invisible Presence far more persistent. I know now that unseen Presence was the Holy Spirit. He reminded me of some things I had learned in childhood–of a place called heaven which God has prepared for people who love Him, and a place called hell for those who turn their backs on Him. I began to think a lot about the future life. After suffering so much in this life, I didn’t want to spend eternity in a place of torment with no chance of escape!

I remember one time when I was out in the country, sitting on a fence. With half a bottle of wine in my hand and the other half in me, I started reflecting on my past life. Understandably, I had a deep seated hatred of my life. With a desire to dwell on something pleasant, my mind wondered to my childhood. There was a short time when I had attended church with my parents. In all honesty, most of what was said had slipped through my mind without taking a hold. There was a part that stayed with me. Those songs we used to sing never left me. It was not uncommon to find me singing one of them. Yes, I could still remember the words. If you can picture this, I was sitting on a fence, drinking, wanted by the police, as wicked as a man could get, singing songs I learned in church!

“Jesus, hold my hand, I need thee every hour. Thru this pilgrim land, protect me by thy power. Hear my feeble plea, O Lord look down on me. When I kneel in prayer, I hope to meet you there. Blessed Jesus, hold my hand”.

As I sang my eyes began to fill with tears. Though I was a hardened convict, here I was fighting back tears when I felt the presence of The Holy Spirit. They told me later that was called conviction. It is the work of the Holy Spirit calling people to seek God’s forgiveness. I knew God was not happy with the life I was living, but I lacked understanding in these matters. What I did understand was what this life had taught me. “Never show weakness to anybody”! If you can act cold and hard enough, nobody will want to try you. Have you ever considered the behavior of people behind bars, or in a bike club, or this type of situation in general. My lifestyle did not permit me to show signs of weakness to anyone, and I thought the tears were a sign of weakness. I wiped away the tears and resisted The Holy Spirit. He is mighty, but also very gentle; He will not force himself on anyone. He stepped back and let me go my way.

One day I heard a man talking about Jesus. He said that when Jesus spoke to the crowds some of the people would say, “He is a mad man! He has a devil!” while others would say, “These aren’t the words of a mad man. We understand what He is saying. These are the words of life.” I wondered what I would think of Jesus’ teachings if I read about them. Would I be able to understand what He said? I decided that if I ever had an opportunity to examine a Bible, I would look into it and see what Jesus had to say.

It didn’t seem like that was likely to happen any time soon. There were no Bibles in my home and I’m pretty sure none of my friends owned a Bible. When it came time to choose between buying alcohol, drugs or a Bible….well, you got the idea. However, you don’t think those kind of thoughts without God acting upon them.

I was living in downtown Vancouver B.C. at the time and had gone to the Pacific Centre Mall which was a short walk from home. I was living with a woman named Marion who wanted to do some shopping and I had reluctantly agreed to tag along. We were walking down a long corridor with stores on both sides. She would enter a store while I waited in the hallway. When she returned, we would go down a few more doors, and I’d wait again.

I was sitting there waiting when I saw a booth where two gideons were giving away new testaments. You know who the Gideons are if you’ve ever stayed in a motel or hotel. They leave Bibles everywhere but you so seldom ever actually see one of the Gideons. They tend to be “low profile - behind the scene” kind of people.

The Holy Spirit started speaking to me. “The answers to the questions and problems in your life can be found in that book” This was just what I wanted and the price was right. I’d take a free Bible, but the thought of purchasing one never once crossed me mind.

I was just about to approach the booth and receive my free Bible when I looked around and realized where I was. This was a public place with people all around me. I was so ungodly I was ashamed to let someone see me even touch a Bible. The Holy Spirit has to be the most gentle being in existence. He will never force his will upon anyone, great or small. He can however be very persuasive. He kept gently telling me I needed to get that Bible. I really wanted it, but there were too many people around and so I just keep walking past the booth. I’m thankful God doesn’t give up easily. He keep tugging at me to get a Bible.

I had walked some distance past these gentlemen when I could resist the Holy Spirit no longer. I turned to Marion and asked her if she would mind going back to that booth and getting me one of those free books.

Well…I wish I could describe the look she got on her face. I told her not to come back and hand it to me, just put the book in her purse and I’d get it when we got home.

God must have been involved because it was probably the only time in her life that she did exactly what I asked her to do! Later when we arrived home, she brought the Testament to me. Looking me in the face she said “Listen, don’t you go getting mixed up in something weird!” I assured her there was nothing to worry about, I was only curious about some things.

I began reading a portion each day. I started with Matthew and found what Jesus taught. I discovered the message of that Testament was not mysterious at all; I found it plain and easy to understand. Jesus is the Son of God and came to earth in human flesh so that He might redeem mankind by dying on the cross. A day of judgment is coming but there is forgiveness for anyone who will confess his sins and trust in Christ as his Redeemer.

One day I felt I could resist God’s love no longer. On July 28, 1980, I knelt down down on an old chair we had in our living room and prayed a short prayer. I told God I was sorry for the things I had done. I couldn’t change those things, but I could change what I would do from now on. I knew I had hurt a lot of people and I regretted it very much. If he would forgive me like I read in the Bible, I would start doing things right. I told him I wanted to be a Christian and to start living like he wanted me to. I meant what I said. I did not feel like I had been struck with lightning, but something was different.

From that day on I have never been the same. What the Bible says in 2 Corinthians 5:17 is true: “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new”. I got up from my prayer and went to bed.

The first thing I learned the next morning as a new Christian was what peter was talking about in 1 Peter 4:12 “Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you” I had changed sides in this war and the one I used to serve had become my bitter enemy. (Truth is, he always was my enemy) I lived in a downtown area and received my mail early in the morning. As I opened it I found out a man I had been doing business with had cheated me out of four hundred dollars. I become angry and started planning revenge. I wanted to choke him to death, or at least beat him senseless!

The Holy Spirit begin speaking to me. If you want to serve me than you must do things differently now. I have forgiven you for so much, shouldn’t you forgive him? I knew God was right. I still wanted to hurt the man as I began thinking about what it meant to be a Christian. This was on my mind day and night.

I was at work when I was handed my pay check. I took it to the bank intending to cash it. The Holy Spirit spoke to me again. I was the next one in line when he asked me who’s name was on the check? I still had the pay check in my hand when I turned around and left the bank. God was showing me how my life was all built upon lies. I knew I couldn’t serve God and go on tell these lies. As these thoughts went through my mind I began to realize some major changes were needed in my life. The Holy Spirit Helped me understand That I could not go on living like I had been and still serve God. I knew exactly what I had to do. I would turn myself into the police and start life over again based on a different set of principles. How could I compare life in prison to eternity in hell. My life on earth would end one day, but eternity in hell has no ending.

It was about noon when I walked off the job, telling my employer I had to get my life straitened out with God. I went home to tell Marion my plans and say goodbye. She asked me how I could desert her like that. It seemed likely I would die in prison. She did everything in her power to talk me out of surrendering to the police. As the fruitlessness of her efforts became apparent, I said I would like to go to church on my way to surrender. I went to a church and after talking to the pastor, he said he could baptize me before I left. After I was baptized, the pastor offered to take me to The Mounties. I thanked him and we set off to find a police station. When we had found the R.C.M.P. in Buraby, British Colombia, The pastor and Marion walked me inside and up to the counter. The Mountie on duty asked if he could help us with anything.

My friends were bikers, rapists, thieves, drug dealers, prostitutes, forgers, burglars, etc. and they had planed their various business ventures in my presents. Everybody I knew hated the Man. (The police) In the world I had lived in, it had always been us against them. I had been taught to do anything to keep from being caught. I had jumped bond and successfully eluded capture for ten years after encountering the police more than a dozen times. I had a full set of identification, a good job, a woman I had lived with for a few years with plans to marry. Now, two days after I had accept Jesus as my savior and been born again, I find myself standing in the police station about to do the unthinkable, that I might please God.

Yes, I said to the Mountie, I am here to surrender. My real name is Ken Burton and I am a fugitive. I have become a Christian and want to face the charges against me. I need to return to Michigan and serve a 25 to 40 years prison sentence I’ve been running from. Here is all my false identification. I have been living in your country illegally for ten years and have eluded capture many times. I will tell you all the names I have used and the jobs I have had. In fact, I will tell you anything you want to know about me, here I am! After listening to my story, that Mountie only wanted to know one thing. He looked me in the face and asked “Mr. Burton, have you ever had any psychiatric treatment?” To this day, I find it humorous that the officer was reluctant to lock me up. After some more conversation and seemingly against his will, he agreed to take me into custody. The officer acted as if he were doing me a favor when it become apparent I was not leaving. He locked me up and they began checking my story. When they concluded I had been honest with them for the first time in my life, they were elated.

By the next morning they were bring people back to my cell to see me. “There he is. Walked in here last night on his own!! Said he had become a Christian and needed to start pleasing God with his life now”. They were all walking around grinning and shaking their heads. A man from the Department of Immigration came early in the day to interview me. It was then established that I had entered Canada illegally. Arrangements were made for my immediate transfer to isolation at their downtown facility. When it came time to be placed in the cell, I asked if I might have my bible. The officer in charge said no. Another officer said “Oh let him have it”. I believe he had heard about my surrendering after I became a Christian and was somewhat sympathetic. The first officer insisted “He’s not allowed to have it”. Who would have thought they’d have wanted to deprive me of my bible. Just look at the effect it was having on me in the few days I had been reading it!! After observing the effect God’s word was having on me, a wise law enforcement agency should have placed bibles in ever cell they had. In a deficient and disappointed state I was led to my cell. A short time passed and that “somewhat sympathetic officer” opened the cell door with my bible in his hand. “Here,” he said with an outstretched hand. I said thanks as we seemed to have traded understanding smiles. There was such a desire in me to learn more about God, and from all appearances I was going to have the time to do so.

While waiting to be transferred to Michigan, I began to have doubts. Satan tried his best to discourage me. A pastor came to visit me. As we talked, he looked through the thick glass of the visiting room and could see I was crying, so he began to pray over the intercom. Suddenly the Holy Spirit came upon me! I felt as if I had been struck by lightning–something seemed to explode inside my body! I began jumping up and down, praising God! My doubts had all been settled.

The Canadian authorities delivered me to the U.S. border (It was the crossing at Blain, Washington). The U.S. authorities escorted me to Bellingham, Washington and to what I think was a county jail. My new accommodations consisted of one large room with a row of cells across one side, for sleeping.

As a new Christian, there were many things I needed to learn. My understanding of he enemies tactics and weapons was about to increase. As the heavy steel door slammed noisily behind me, I was approached by the welcoming committee. Seems like prisoners always wanted to know one thing, “What are you in here for?” Well…I started telling my story and did not get very far before being interrupted. “HEY!!, come over here, you gotta hear this one!” The committee grew in size and I was asked to started over again. This time I got a little farther into my story before I heard, “Wait a minute!” Are you trying to tell us, you had a job and a good set of false identification. You were living with a woman planning to be married. The police hadn’t caught you in ten years. And you surrendered to serve a 25 to 40 years prison sentence and all the other charges they now have! To me it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do. Yes, I answered, I have become a Christian and now I want to please God with my life. Another prisoner looked me in the face with udder disbelief and said “You ain’t got a lick of sense in your head!!! You will never get out of prison alive!” (Looking back on this incident, I am able to see now that God had not sent them to encourage me.)

By the next morning I needed to think, and spend some more time in prayer. I decided to stayed in my cell, instead of joining the other prisoners in the large room for the day. A life in prison was nothing to look forward to and I must confess to some self pity and discouragement. As I began to focus more on my situation than on God’s ability, desire and intent to work in my life, discouragement tightened it’s grip. An inability to meet a need, is not one of God’s traits. Since having committed myself to him, I was rapidly learning he would always meet my needs, even without my asking. As I paced the small cell becoming more discouraged by the minute, help was already on the way.

A guard came to the door and shouted my name. “I’m here, I answered.” A tall woman in uniform unlocked my door and introduced herself. “I’m Sharon Wagner from the sheriff’s department. I’m here to take your fingerprints. We want to be sure that you are who you say you are.” (Why on earth would anybody want to impersonate me?) The deputy led me out of my cell and to a room where she could take my prints. When Sharon saw I was downcast, she began to make some small talk. She soon asked me if I had accepted Jesus as my savior.

Yes, your reading this right!! I’m in jail with a deputy sheriff taking my fingerprints when the cop wants to know if I’m a Christian! I was so thrilled to see another Christian I couldn’t contain myself. Yes!, I said, that’s the reason I’m in this place. I started telling her my whole story. I told her about the way I used to live and how much trouble I had gotten into. I went on to explain how God had forgiven me, and how I had surrendered myself to please him. She may not have needed me to reveal my discouragement as it was not well hidden. When I finished speaking, she looked me in the face and said “You listen to me”. I was once a prisoner on the other side of this building where they keep the women. Look what he has done in my life. Today I work for the sheriff’s department. He will NEVER leave you or turn his back on you. It is written in God’s word “…he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion…” There is no need to be discouraged. Let’s pray. We bowed our heads and Sharon prayed for me.

God is truly amazing. Who else would send a cop to encourage and pray for a convict. Needless to point out, I reentered my cell greatly encouraged. In a very short time I believe it became obvious to all that someone was laboring, behind the scenes, in my behalf. A few day later I was in my cell with 5 or 6 other prisoners answering questions about the bible. They had started reading them and wanted to know what I found in there. Sharon returned with some Christian literature and more encouragement. That had to be very startling to the other inmates as the deputies are not widely know for their love of the prisoners.

In due time I was back in Flint, Michigan, standing before the judge, He said, “I am going to resentence you,” and I wondered what was coming. To my surprise, he threw out the sentence of 25 to 40 years, and gave me 3 years’ probation. It seemed too good to be true! He also dismissed the Federal warrant. The Canadian authorities dropped all the charges they had against me for the 10 years I was running in their country.

I’m very thankful for the great love and mercy God has shown toward me. He turned my life around and called me to be an evangelist. I have the privilege of visiting many places across the country and sharing my testimony with various groups. I enjoy telling what God has done for me.

I was a loser, but now I am a winner since I teamed up with Jesus Christ. I’m glad I stopped running. How about you? Are you running from God? He is pursuing you because He loves you and wants to help you. If you will give yourself up, He will make you a new person. I know from experience that if you will put your life in His hands, He will give you a new start, and help you to be a winner.

Visit My Website @ http://www.kenburtonstory.com/

kennethlburton@yahoo.com

My husband had retired five years earlier, and I received news that my job was being eliminated in a few months.  We decided to move back to his country, Canada from the U.S., where we could both retire and have affordable medical coverage.   We put our house on the market right away.  After a few weeks, we were out to lunch with a couple from our church, and expressed our concerns about getting our house sold.  They looked at each other in a knowing way.  I asked what that look had meant.  He proceeded to tell us that they had many antique clocks in their house which didn’t run anymore; and that he had set them all to 11:59 as a reminder that God’s timing is not our timing.  I liked that idea, and told them that I also had a clock on my living room wall, that had been a gift from our Canadian church when we left there, and that it didn’t run anymore.  I was going to set it to 11:59 when I got home.

When we arrived home, I walked over to the clock so that I could take it down and change the time.  But already the hands were at 11:59!  I was so surprised, I asked my husband if he had done that.  He had not.  And so, I suspected that this was a message from the Lord to us.  Over the next several months, we had many people look at the house, but no offers.  My husband went on to Canada to buy and get a home ready for us, while I completed my obligations to my job.  It was difficult for us to be apart, and there were many times when I had to rush home from work and get our pets out of the house so it could be shown.  My last day of work was also to be the day we would pack the truck for the move, whether or not the house sold.  At work, I had often mentioned the 11:59 thing, and one of my Christian coworkers reminded me that it was 11:59 when I commented how difficult it was to leave the country with the house unsold.  In my frustration, I replied that it was 11:59:30!

We finished loading the truck the next day, and while we were loading it, a couple came to see the house.  They were very interested in it.  We drove away, not knowing if they would make an offer or not.  The next day we stopped at a rest stop and called our real estate agent, to see if there was any news.  She had been trying to reach us.  There had been another visit to the house a few hours after we left with the truck, and we had not one, but two offers on our house!  We praised the Lord right there in the parking lot.  We sold our house, and we thanked the Lord for His perfect timing.