Testimony Share

My name is Ryan Caldwell, and this is my life story. I grew up in a small town in the mountains of North Carolina. I was the youngest in a family of four. I was raised in a home filled with love and without the presence of alcohol or drugs. At the age of 7 or so I began to visit my friends down the street to play. Some were my age, with the exception of some young adults around the age of 20 or so.

Little did I know that I would very quickly be exposed to the things that have nearly destroyed my life. As I would leave, my parents were sure that I was in a harmless environment. Within a short time I had seen it all. I sat on the couch as I viewed sexual explicit videos. I really wanted to try this “weed” they were smoking, but they said, “Your lungs aren’t through growing yet.” But what about the beer and liquor, I’d sure like to drink that. “Oh no, not now” they said. As a young kid I saw these older guys as my best friends and role models. They were older than me and I could hang out with them, and man they were cool, so I wanted to do exactly what they did.

Five years later when I was 12, I began smoking cigarettes. Before long my Mother had caught me many times, but I didn’t care. I began to rebel even more and did exactly what I was told not to do. Within a short time I had a collection of pornographic material, and a stash of alcohol.

When I was 14, I finally got my chance to smoke pot, and loved it. I worked as a cook, and always supported my habit. A habit indeed I soon had. I was smoking all day every day. My parents found it over and over, and I’d turn right around and get more. Grounded or not, I’d get it. The loving family atmosphere soon diminished as my words and actions destroyed it. Now that I couldn’t do as I pleased, I lashed out in anger by breaking windows, arguing, and being very destructive. This continued thru high school. During my senior year cocaine had came across my path one day. I sniffed it and it was the best feeling I ever had. I bought a bag, then another, and another after that. Within three days it had taken control of my life. The next morning my Mother brought me to school and I ran away. I had to get away from everything around me, especially cocaine. The next day they located me outside town, and I entered a drug rehab facility where I finished my senior year of high school.

I returned and I stayed clean for a week. Drugs came across my path again and I gave in. I was 17, and I was grounded for the next two months till I turned 18. Within the next six months I lost everything. I wrecked my truck, lost my job, and began to live from here to there wherever the party was. I became a heavy drug user of various types of drugs. Whatever came my way I had to have, and as much of it as I could get. Drugs were all I lived for every day. One fix after another.I became very thin, and I had 3 overdoses in a month. One night a friend and I was very intoxicated and broke into a store. I was told there was $3,500 in the store. There was $20. If there would’ve been that much money in there, I’m sure I would’ve killed myself with the drugs I was going to buy.

A week later I was arrested, and locked up in Virginia for six months. During this time I turned 19 behind bars. It had changed me in a way that I could gain some self control. But I got with the wrong crown again, and a week later I was arrested for marijuana, and drinking under age. My father bailed me out, and a week later I got a drinking and driving ticket. My Father bailed me out again. Now I stayed away from everyone and got a job, and began to attend a local college. Everyone thought I had stopped using drugs but I hadn’t. I had to take drug tests once a month for 4 years. I would carry in someone’s urine every time, because I would test positive. As I would pass each test, it showed that I was staying clean.

After class I would get high, and after work I would get high. Smoking marijuana everyday was the norm, but I always loved to have some cocaine, crystal meth, pills, or anything else to go with it. Within the next three years I became heavily addicted to cocaine, and crystal meth. Three times I had help from others to aid in my recovery, but I always went back.

I soon moved in with some college friends and rented a house. We partied all the time, and began using a lot of drugs. Then we started selling them, and that brought even more around. I was now 22, and still on drugs with no direction. There were many of us that hung together, and we’d all get high. From Oct-Dec. of 2005 five of my friends died from drug overdoses. I seen them yesterday, and they were dead today. My close friend Stacy was 20 yrs old. I told her she was taking too much and to slow down because I was there at one time, and it wasn’t worth it. A week or so later Stacy didn’t wake up. This was it for me; I couldn’t do it anymore because my time was coming if I didn’t stop.

So I did, and my friend Angela came over that day and talked to me about Stacy because I was quite upset. She said, “I know I’m ok, and when I die I’m going to heaven.” She looked at me and I couldn’t say anything, but just look at her. I became real scared and uncomfortable. And she talked to me a little bit about Jesus, but I was bit reluctant about it, so she eased off, so I left quickly!I thought to myself, why? Why am I running, it’s real. Eternity is real, and forever. So I thought about it, and I couldn’t comprehend it. Once I thought about God and heaven, I felt his presence immediately. I felt it right outside my chest.I felt like God was right there saying, “Ryan, just let me in.”For 3 days I was in a war. I was crying, and listening to the devil on my shoulder, saying oh come on, you can come to God later, let’s have fun, and then God was calling me.

So I moved home Dec. 17^th 2005. My Father and I talked till 3 A.M. in the morning. I told him how I felt about God, and that I needed him to help me. My Father shared with me the gospel of Jesus Christ and that he died for my sins, and if I believe that he was the son of God, and that he died on the cross for my sins, and rose from the third day, that I would be saved. So I believed in him with all my heart and asked Jesus to come into my life and be my Lord and savior, and to take control and show me the way. With many tears being shed I came off my knees, and I felt like a new person, and I knew I had been saved. That following Sun. on Christmas I was baptized, and professed the Lord as my savior.

Now let me share with you how God has changed my life. Since that night I’ve had no desire to use drugs, or alcohol. He’s given me a life to live with hope, and the strength to say no. I now live a clean life as I patiently seek what God has in store for me. He’s blessed me with a great job, a vehicle, and things I need in life. Before I had nothing, and now I have Jesus and he is the reason I live today. Because of his mercy I’m still alive, and by his grace I have a savior, and when I see Jesus it will be worth it all.

Trial to Triumph

Lost and alone; salvation unknown.

Drugs and strongholds made the evil-one known.

Strength overtaken, near death three times.

Addictions and afflictions, many of each kind.

Freedom vanished, locked behind barred doors.

Six months of insomnia, pacing concrete floors.

Freedom returned gaining untruthful respect.

Addictions again, dying to inject.

Loved ones and reality gained semi-control.

Deep inside the dark one had hold.

Just as life met the end of it’s rope.

A witness from the Lord spoke a glimmer of hope.

A chance to change for better.

And a life that lasts forever.

Down on my knees I met Christ.

Filled with love and empty of strife.

Blinded no more and chained no longer,

The Lord my Shepard hath made me stronger.

Living to know him and to make him known.

The lost and dying need to be shown.

The love of Christ thru the light of our lamp.

Not to grade sin or put on a stamp.

No time for that, work to be done.

Sharing the gospel and souls to be won.

Eternal motivation and promises I keep.

Guided by light patiently I seek.

I never thought someone would love me for me.

Until Christ entered my life and he made me see.

On my knees each day thanking God above,

Because of you I see the meaning of no greater love.

By: Ryan Caldwell

Ever since I became capable of going onto the internet, I have had a problem that the majority of the world’s men face: pornography.   I was introduced to the concept when I was 6 years old by a “friend” (although I cannot say where he is now).  His father kept about 20 VHS tapes in a cardboard box under his bed, and once, when I spent the night, he pulled them out and showed them to me.  At first, I was repulsed.  This is disgusting! I thought.  But as I watched more, a change came over me.  I began to enjoy it.  It makes me ashamed to think on it.  After that, I put it out of my mind…at least, for the time being.  Then, about 7 years later, I got a computer as a gift.  This computer was internet-capable.  Back then, I didn’t know how to use it for an evil purpose.  I mainly used it to do research for school.  But in the summer of 1997, when my cousin came to visit, he showed me how to use it for more nefarious purposes.  Ever since then, I have become an addict to pornography.  I have tried to rid myself of it, with limited success.  When I went into the Navy, it became worse.  I spent 2 years in Sicily, and 4 months in Okinawa.  In both places, when pornography wasn’t enough…..and it is really  hard for me to write this…I would rent a car or go out into town and pay for sex.  I feel so dirty telling people this, but maybe I can feel lighter when I get this off my chest.  I spent a lot of money in both countries for sex.  Of course, I used protection, but that’s no excuse.  I should not have done it in the first place.  When I got out of the Navy in 2006, I went back home to Alabama.  But I still had a problem with it.  To make matters worse, I heard about a few places in the neighboring city of Huntsville where I could go buy sex again…..and I did.  At least 20 to 30 times before I finally just said “enough!”  It was a huge drain on many things in my life, but the three biggest drains were on my gas, on my wallet, and on my spirit.  I was saved in October of 2000, but I want to be even closer to God and Jesus.  I want to leave that life behind me for good.  I want to walk daily with the Father and Son and live a pure life again.  I know that the struggle will never end until the day I die, but at least I can put up a dang good fight!

Galatians 5:16 — This I say then, walk in the spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh. (KJV)

I didn’t have the best childhood, but I guess you could say it wasn’t the worst.  I grew up with an older sister and a younger brother.  We lived in what you would consider the ghetto in our small town, but it was the place that I learned to love as the years went by.  Life with a single mother was pretty easy although for her it may not have been.  We were on welfare after all.  My mother was single until I was about the age of 7 when she met my step-father.  The man that I loved, the man that wanted me to call him dad.  At first he seemed to be the perfect guy and like many others he turned out to be another one.   An alcoholic that is.  I’ll never forget the night he came into my room in the dark.  It was like I was expecting it.  I wanted to see what he would do so I tried to stay as still as possible and then it happened.  He crossed the line.  He was no longer the father I thought he was.

I blamed God for letting him touch me.  I couldn’t understand how he could leave me when I needed him the most.  God had abandoned me Not until later did I find out I was the one who left him.

As I grew up I turned to alcohol, drugs, and men.  I was the author of sin.  I know longer cared and I know longer loved. I was diagnosed with bipolar at the age of 18.  It took me to many dark places, but it was an explanation for the life I was living.  At least I thought it was.

Recently I ‘ve been really depressed so I turned to God and prayed.  I’ve been praying and studying the bible alot lately. I’ve left God many times when he’s been beside me the whole time.  Today I prayed that I would see some kind of sign and I did.  Tonight in a vision I saw angels and I saw the old me die.  I was buried with my sins and today I am born again.   I touched the hand of an angel and I felt the presence of God.  It was so comforting.  The best feeling ever.  I hope to have many more visions to share.  God found me.  Now I am no longer in the dark.

My earliest memories are of nightmares. As a young boy living in Oklahoma I seemed to have a pretty good life. My mother and father worked and I grew up in daycare. I had three half brothers and a half sister though I never met her until years later. Family life was rough. My father was constantly in debt and addicted to alcohol and drugs. He abused my mother on a regular basis and I think it was this environment that left me open to such spiritual attack as a child. From the age of two I would have nightmares of monsters and boogie men. One night I remember laying in bed trying to sleep after a particularly bad fight and looking at my night light. It had a glass base with a sculpture inside of a little boy who had been fishing. He was feeding his earthworms to some little birds in a nest. It had been a comforting scene in the past. This night though I remember the sculpture turning to look at me. It appeared then as if the boy came out of the glass and was a menacing presence. I got scared and shut my eyes. This had always worked in the past if I just shut my eyes it would go away. Only this time I didn’t. So I jumped out of bed and ran to my parents room. They had somehow made up after yet another fight and were both asleep. I stood in the hallway looking at them then I turned to look back down at my room and the boy was already on his way down the hall after me. I screamed and jumped into bed with my parents. The boy came into the room. I hid my head under the covers as my parents stirred. The boy had vanished and I found rest in their bed that night.

Some time later, when dad began to beat me, mom decided it was time for us to leave. So one day instead of daycare I stayed home with mom. My uncles from Texas showed up in trucks and a Uhaul and we left. We moved to Texas without my dad knowing that we were even thinking of going. I missed him terribly and didn’t understand why we had to go. I was almost five when we moved to Texas. Life was fun at first we stayed on my grandparents farm where I had fun with my two cousins and in many ways they became the serrogate brothers to replace the ones I had left behind.

I had a hard time differentiating between truth and story growing up. When my cousins and I would tell ghosts stories I would get overtaken by an intense fear. It didn’t help that my grandparents farm house was a two story farm home over two hundred years old and most of my aunts and uncles all had their ghost stories about it.

After a few months of living on the farm my mother found a job in the city and we moved into a duplex. I was still plagued by nightmares and scary visions. Our new home in town had a small berry bush outside my mothers window and I remember one time I saw a black almost shadow like substance dart into that bush and disappear.

My parents had attended a protestant church in Oklahoma and I had been raised with a basic Sunday School knowledge of God and Jesus. I didn’t understand why we had left Oklahoma and I cursed God on a regular basis for taking me from my father. I had a conversation at some point with my father over the phone and he told me that the Devil had my mother and that it was my job to pray for them to get back together. I got occasional letters from my father but when I was nine he died. It was at his funeral that I met my half sister for the first, and only, time. My fathers death embittered me toward God and I became increasingly iconoclastic.

While I was in elementary school I was also diagnosed with Aortic Valvular Stenosis of the left ventricle artery. My diagnosis was grim. I don’t remember all the ins and outs of it but I wasn’t expected to live long past my teens and I was immediately taken out of all athletics in school. Teachers were scared because I would come in from lunch pale and with purple lips after playing on the playground.

Life became harder. My mother couldn’t find any insurance to take me because I was a guaranteed loss. She was working as an accountant for a bar behind our house and was constantly worried and stressed out. My mother had been raised Catholic and left the church as soon as she left the house. She raised me to believe that organized religion was not to be trusted and that no one belief was better than another. She taught me that to experiment with drugs was expected but never to do anything too hard. She also introduced me to witchcraft. She unknowingly taught me that when dealing with spiritual things she had learned from some hippies in the 60’s that you were supposed to make a circle around yourself to keep out bad spirits.

It was around that same time that I discovered a passion for reading. My favorite books pertained to magic and dragons anything to escape and get me away from the pain of the real world. I delved at a young age into eastern mysticism and into Native American religions. I remember at one point I felt so in tune with the spiritual energies around me that i could run through my backyard out into the front yard and not even need to stop to open the gate in front of me. It would open before me and shut behind me.

In the midst of my growing interest with the very things I had lived in fear of for so long I remember telling God that I was tired of being “sick” and I wanted to be able to play like a normal boy.

I also remember making the conscious decision to no longer be afraid of the things that went bump in the night but to instead be the thing that people feared.

In the seventh grade I found a friend in english class who also read many of the same fantasy and horror books that I did. We became fast friends sharing this in common. It was around that same time that bullies became a real problem and he and I were both bullied by a group of older boys. That summer I hit puberty and became larger than the bullies and they quit bullying me.

I went on to high school but my middle school buddy did not go to the same school I did, so I had to start over and found friends once again that read all the same books I did. On one particularly bad day I was sitting in the lunch room with an older friend and began discussing a character out of one of our books. This character was easily identified with by me because of his sick weakly stature, but he became a wizard and soon both challenged and managed to kill a Goddess in the series. I remember asking my friend if he ever wished that all that magic stuff was real and looked me square in the eye and said that it was. He wanted to show me so I came over to his house for a sleep over one weekend. He pulled several store bought spell books and psychic manuals. We immediately began to try putting out candle flames with our minds and found some exciting success. That night I became a witch.

By my sophomore year there was a core group of five male witches at our high school. One of the guys mother was a member of the Texas Council for Magickal Arts and so we all had a pretty good hook up into the occult. We all frequented the new age and witchcraft shops around town. i became adept and finding and communicating with “Spirit Guides” reading Tarot cards and the like. My friends and I would all have sleep overs and practice witchcraft together. I lived this way from my freshman year of high School until I was 21 years old.

It was after I graduated high school that I delved deeper and more seriously into the witchcraft. Out of high school I had no goals or plan for life so I went to Massage Therapy school. I also learned Reiki which is simply another form of Witchcraft. I remember in the class at the end of it we went through a guided mediation to meet with a powerful spirit guide. In the vision I didn’t find a spirit guide but I saw myself standing at the feet of Jesus sitting on a throne frozen in a block of ice. The vision so disturbed me that I wouldn’t share it with the others in the class.

While I was in classes I found a job working at the mall in a seasonal Halloween store. There I met two lesbian witches and two Christians. I was really taken by the beauty of one of the Christians and instantly thought she was out of my league. By the end of the season though she and I were dating and sleeping together.

It was because of her parents that I first went to church. They were threatening to break us up if I didn’t at least visit their church. They had been told by their daughter that I attended another local church. So I did what any good witch would do for the sake of so called love, I geared up with all of my amulets and talismans underneath my shirt and I went with her to church. I had heard of this church it was a charismatic mega church and among the witchcraft community it was rumored that these Christians were crazy. I instantly disliked the businessy feel of the building but when I made it into the main Sanctuary I saw this bald, goatee clad man with an electric guitar rocking out in worship and I thought, “Man this looks nothing like my grandmothers Catholic Church.”

By the end of service I had so enjoyed myself that I told my girlfriend we could go back sometime if her parents forced us to.

Eventually the girl and I became engaged. One late evening after she had been hanging out with a witch friend and me, I asked her what she thought of my “religion”. Up to this point I had always been very confrontational about Christianity and could out argue her easily because she was lukewarm at best and had no idea how to defend a faith she herself didn’t practice. This night was different though…I had been explaining to my witch friend a new character I had developed for a role playing game I designed. When out of my mouth, not even in my voice, I began to quote scripture and explain the nature of truth to my friend. My fiance recognized it as scripture and was blown away by what I had just said, but I just played it off as if “just because I wasn’t a Christian didn’t mean I didn’t know what the Bible said”. My witch friend applauded my speech and went home. I was shaken by the experience and somehow was open to hearing what my fiance had to say about my religion.

So I asked her, “What do you think of my religion?”, she simply responded that it was demon worship. I flew off the handle with her and drove her home.

Later that night I was performing a ritual and cast my circle. I was surrounded by years worth of acquired witchcraft paraphernalia. Incense was burning as a sacrifice to my idols I had around the room. A Buddha, dancing Shiva, Tiki head, etc. and I sat on my bed enfolded in my robe and began to think this one thought. “What if she’s right?” My mind began to repeat that question and I grew cold and a cloud seemed to descend upon the room. Even though it was lit by many candles it became difficult to see and I once again got under my covers and tried to shut my eyes to lock out the fear, just as I had done so often as a little boy. I peeked out and it was as if a curtain had been lifted and I saw all around me not idols of wood and brass but laughing mocking figures that had no good intentions for me, but the evil had almost a physical presence. I despaired.

Just then in the deepest fear I had ever felt a voice spoke to me. Not like the voices of the spirits I had long communicated with but a voice of gentle rain, but also powerful thunder. It was a warm voice and a soothing voice and with two words it banished the fear and the images. The voice simply said “I AM“. The voice was so real and shocking that I jumped from my bed and began looking through my house believing that a friend was playing some trick on me. I found no one though and I blew out the candles snuffed the incense and as I began to fall asleep I heard another similar voice begin to tell me how much He loved me and I drifted off.

Six months later my fiance and I had completed our pre-marriage classes and went for our first meeting with the pastor she had chosen to marry us. He was a kindly older gentleman by the name of Phil Mercado. He began speaking to us and asked us where we were with the Lord. Now my fiance knew this was coming and she had been coaching me on the drive to the church to say that Jesus Christ was my Lord and Savior. I told her I got it and to shut up and leave me alone. So Pastor Phil says, “I don’t know you that well so tell me if you were to die today where would you go?” I said Heaven. To me heaven was an ambiguous place like the Elysian fields or the happy hunting grounds. He followed up by asking me “Why?”. I was dumb founded. I knew somehow I was supposed to say that Jesus Christ was my Lord and Savior but the words would not come out of my mouth. I sputtered some drivel about W.W.J.D. and always trying to do the right thing. Pastor Phils’ face fell, he opened his bible and shared the Romans road with me and then he said that for his own sake would we object to being led in a prayer. We agreed and got down on our knees there in his office in front of his desk. I repeated the words he was saying but in my mind it was as if I was kneeling before the feet of Jesus once again only this time he wasn’t frozen in a block of ice but was clothed in glory. I realized in that moment that my whole life everyone had been wrong. I realized that it didn’t matter that my mother thought religion was a crutch or that all my friends thought Christians were hypocrites. It only mattered in between me and Jesus and I accepted Him to be my Lord.

On the drive home I told my fiance that I had meant the prayer and she got visibly upset with me.

Three times before we were married God told me distinctly not to marry her but I did anyway. I mean the invitations were already sent out what was God thinking? He would just have to deal with it. As I grew closer to God she ran farther away. As a gift to her I set up a computer for her to use. Once again God told me in no uncertain terms not to set up the computer. I had promised already and did it anyway. Three months in to the marriage she met a guy online and left. She was the one thing at that point in my life that was more important than God and she was finally gone. I broke before the Lord and praised Him in my pain and sorrow. A few weeks later I lay on the couch and was reading my Bible. In Exodus Moses goes up the mountain to get the commandments and he questions God. He says to God how will the people know that I didn’t just make this stuff up but that it is from you. God says to tell the people His Name. Moses says what’s your name God and God replies “I AM“.

I got the chills and saw Gods providence in my life. That incurable degenerative disease? I was healed at some time. A few years after the initial disease I enrolled in Judo classes. One of the men in the class heard me talking about my condition and couldn’t believe the diagnosis. He read EKG’s and such. So he snuck me into the hospital (no insurance remember) and ran the tests on me. There was no heart disease. He told my mom to take the print out and have several specialists around the state and country read them but there was no disease there. His thought was that there had never been a heart condition. But my mother had the old printouts that showed it as well. I was healed. Even in my anger and hatred of God He had healed me, because He had a plan and a purpose for me.

After I was saved and my first wife had left I gathered up all the old witchcraft books and stuff I could find. Anything that wasn’t pleasing to God really. Cd’s, books, games, magazines, movies, etc. and I burned them all in my backyard. As the pillar of smoke rose from the flames I saw an evil face appear resembling one of the many evil spirits I had encountered in my years of witchcraft. The face came at me with the appearance of a scream and broke over me. Then it dissipated and the smoke continued to rise straight up into the night. I had Jesus now and for the first time in my life I didn’t have to fear any longer.

P.S. I am now a Youth Pastor and married to a beautiful Christian woman who loves the Lord and am the father of a wonderful little girl.

Filling the God Sized hole

From the time of my cognitive awareness to the age of thirty, I went through life with a hole inside of me. I had no faith in God, no self-esteem and no meaningful direction in my life. My insecurities and lack of faith were what dug that hole inside of me, leaving room for pain and degradation. I went through my teens with a chip on my shoulder. I got into fights, rebelled against authority, lived fast and took chances, and I eased the pain of it all by using drugs and alcohol. It did not take long for me to learn that drugs and alcohol cost a great deal of money. I came to the conclusion that I wanted to be on the receiving end of it all; hence, I became driven to succeed, advance and achieve in what would be my chosen career path, sales and distribution of controlled substances. I would not have been able to explain to someone what being comfortable in my own skin was like; I had no idea because I never really had been content with being me. I lived exactly thirty years, five months and three days of not knowing how to love myself until on the morning of February 3, 2005, life, as I had known it would take on a new meaning, and for the first time, a purpose.

I had neglected to adhere to the terms and conditions of probation that I had been placed under stemming from a driving while intoxicated offense I was convicted of in 2002, and so a warrant was issued for my arrest. On the twenty fourth day of January, 2005, two warrant deputy’s dressed in brown appeared at my doorstep, arrested me and took me in to the Hennepin County Jail in downtown Minneapolis. I quickly learned from the admissions officer that I was being held on a body-only warrant, which essentially means I was not getting released until I met with my sentencing judge. So there I was, angry, disheartened, empty and alone. I can look back now and say the feeling I was experiencing would best be described as spiritually bankrupt; however, at that time I had no idea what that really meant.

The aesthetic nature of correctional facilities is very dull to say the least. The holding area is the first place you are taken to. I walked in, staring at the speckled tan linoleum floor, which is similar to what you might see in a hospital or public school. I was told to take a seat on one of the fiberglass bucket-style seats that were mounted to steel runners about eight to each row. I watched as the continuously running orientation video ran over and over again until I finally heard the guard yell “ Fredrickson! Time to get printed and then your phone call”.

The walls were glossy beige painted over cinder block, which made the fluorescent lights shine off them like mirror images. The doors and handrails were all a uniform industrial green and all the tables and plumbing fixtures are a brightly polished stainless steel. The interior design does not differ between the admission/holding area and the living units; in fact it remains consistent throughout the facility. The finger printing process is now inkless; you just roll your fingers over a touch pad, the guard presses enter, and you’re finished. I was then given an opportunity to make a phone call which I declined; I knew I wasn’t going anywhere, so I said to the guard sarcastically,

“what’s the point?”

I was then placed back in the holding cell, which is also known as the “fishbowl” because windows surround it. It was not long before the guard returned and said “ Fredrickson! You’re going upstairs.” Before you can go up to the living units, they bring you to the change room where you put your clothes and belongings in a property bag and put on the jail-issued uniforms known as the “County orange”. I so wanted this nightmare to end, so I quickly changed, followed the guard to the elevator and headed upstairs to the living unit and my room. Most people who know me well would say I am one of the toughest men they have ever known; however, on this night the toughness lost out to despair; although this was not my first time in jail, I fell asleep with tears rolling down my cheeks. I suppose even the toughest guys can hurt too, and hurting I was.

The first week inside was pretty much a blur, which I attribute to the detoxification from years of drug abuse. I do not have much recollection of that time. I mostly remember sleeping, using the phone, roll calls and meals. It was February 2^nd now and my head was clearing up. I was ready to face the world, which was good because otherwise I may have secluded myself in my cell, and I would have never had my life- changing experience. I went to bed that night more sober than I had probably been in ten years. I had no idea that when I woke up the next morning it would not only be the beginning of a new day for me, but the beginning of a new life.

The lights rose from dim to full power and the lock on the cell door clicked, which meant it was time for roll call and morning meal. I quickly rose to my feet, made my bed and stepped out into the living unit, just to the side of my door. The C.O. (Correctional Officer) began his routine walk around the unit, clip board in hand, face down, pausing only for a moment to scribble a mark on his sheet after each inmate spoke out their first and last name. I had noticed from the previous days that some the of other C.O.’s would switch the point from which they would start taking roll call, which would give different areas of the living unit a shot at being first through the chow line in the morning, but not this guy. No, this was Officer Herrera; he did things exactly by the book, which meant he started from the lowest numbered cell to the highest. When Herrera was on duty, I was the last through the line for my danish, fruit and pint of milk.

As I mentioned earlier, the aesthetic features of a correctional facility are pretty consistent throughout, the layout would be the only thing that really differs. The living units are rectangular, approximately 100’ by 75’. There are 35 cell units located on both of the long walls in two tiers with the lowest numbered cells on the first floor and the highest on the second. The command center, where the C.O’s were stationed, is located at the front of the unit along with the phones and showers. The tables, televisions and books were at the opposite end of the unit. My cell was just over the control center on the front end of the unit; I had seen the inside of this jail more than once, but the view this morning was different from before, unlike anything I had ever seen before.

It always seems gloomy in County even though there is more than sufficient lighting. As I gazed out into the main room, I noticed something felt out of place, but I couldn’t quite put a finger on what or where it was. It was one of those things where something just didn’t seem normal to me, but to everyone else, it was status quo. I looked from side to side through the dreary control room, and there it was. In the middle of that room I saw what seemed like a beaming ray of sunshine cutting through thunderheads raging over a stormy sea. The light was calling me as if I were a ship and the rays were a lighthouse guiding me in to what would be my refuge and deliverance. In reality, my refuge would be the stainless steel table where two men sat conversing with smiles, laughter and a state of peace I could neither understand or accept; after all, had they not been informed we were all in jail? I could resist no longer. I had to know what it was they had that was making them so cheery. When I reached the table, one of the men (whom I would later learn was named Clarence) turned and looked at me and as we met each other’s eyes I said,

“Who blew the sunshine up your #@$? You two aware we are in jail?”

“We are reading the word of God”, Clarence responded; and at that point the other man, Keith, said

“Would you like to join us in our reading?”

My mind screamed “No!” but my heart insisted, “Yes!”

I stood there in front of the two men that I would soon call my Brothers for what seemed to me like a minute or more just staring back, glancing back and forth at them. To someone just observing from a distance, the scene would not have looked right. Clarence and Keith are both African Americans in their early forties and I was a thirty-year-old “White-boy”. Under normal circumstances, this would look like a prelude to disaster. Fortunately, God’s hand was in this. Clarence and Keith sat there in front of me wearing their patient smiles as my mind tried to out duel my heart and my feet, but it was no use; before I knew what was happening, I was seated at the table, and somehow a Bible appeared right in front of my seat. I spent the rest of that day reading and discussing stories and passages with my two new Brothers in Christ. Clarence and Keith explained to me how the passage in 2Corinthians 5:17 promises that my mistakes did not condemn me.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ Jesus, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, behold, the new has come” (N.A.S.B Tyndale 1979).

This was a revelation to me; I had never considered that I could ever come back from the life I created.

The following ten days were spent fellowshipping with Clarence and Keith. Each morning we would take turns leading the study topic and discussion. It seemed like in some way I was experiencing the supernatural through my study of the Bible. Things were being revealed to me at an accelerated pace; in fact, there were several occasions in which Keith and Clarence had told me that they found my interpretations very edifying, which really hit home with me because I viewed them as mentors. Clarence had attended seminary school before battling with addiction to crack; Keith was a real estate developer who had been brought in over a dispute with his taxes. Yeah, they were in jail, but they were holding up all right. They asked the Lord for forgiveness and that gave them the contentment of knowing they had been justified before the Father. In this case “justified” means “ just-as-if –I’d “ never sinned. This cleansing was available to all who would believe in the Lord; however, one’s belief is demonstrated through one’s repentance, which means to acknowledge and turn from one’s sin. So in essence, all I had to do was stop living the life I was leading which had me to where I was and ask God to forgive me. That decision for me was the proverbial “No Brainer”. My newfound faith would soon be tested, but the promises therein would also come to fruition.

It was roughly the 17^th morning of being incarcerated. I was woken up by the Spanish accented harsh and unfriendly voice of C.O. Herrera coming over the loudspeaker: “Roll call in five minutes! Have your beds made, be dressed and ready by your doors by the time I get there, or you will wish you had!” I heard the door lock release and I quickly rose to my feet, brushed my teeth and spread my blanket over the cold concrete slab I slept on. As Herrera made his way around the tier, I watched his every move. He stared at each inmate with his beady little black eyes. He wore condemning a smirk pulled to one side of his acne-scarred face. It was almost as though each one us had carried out some kind of traumatic injustice upon him personally and now he was going to make us all pay for what we had done. While he was making his way around the tiers, there were two younger guys, maybe in their early twenties, who were chatting back and forth. Herrera heard the chatter; only he thought it was I who was doing the talking! Herrera pointed at me and shouted “ You! Mr. Fredrickson! To your cell now! You are placed on 24 hour lock down for talking during roll call!” I tried to argue with him, but it was useless. Herrera was convinced it was I doing the talking and that was that. At first I was really upset, but I remembered I had a new friend. My escape was lying on my shelf in the form of a Bible. I started reading and I came upon a verse in the Old Testament, Isaiah 53:5 “ But He was pierced through for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, and by his scourging we are healed” (N.A.S.B. Zondervan 1991). My eyes began to well up as I realized that I was not the first to be falsely accused; the Lord had been, too. The only difference was that the Lord was crucified. I suddenly was able to find peace in my unwarranted lock down.

There I sat in a six by eight room, yet I did not feel alone. I knew the Lord was right there beside me. Having already determined I could not go on living my life as I had been, I decided the time was right to do something about it. I knelt down on my hands and knees and I began to cry. My whole life started flashing through my head, all the good and all the bad. I said to the Lord, “Lord, I want to change. If you will forgive me and fill the hole that will be left from leaving everything I know, the money, power, control, my fiancé, friends and the addiction. Lord if you will do that, I will give you the rest of my life to use you as you would, to do your will.” I cannot explain to you in words the warmth that fell over me. Tears ran like raging rivers down my face, but they were no longer tears of sadness, they were tears of joy!

I eventually had my day in court and the sentencing judge ruled that I was to execute the remaining 101 days I had left on my sentence. I was shipped out to the Hennepin county workhouse in Plymouth for the remainder of my time. I used this as an opportunity to study the Bible, pray, and develop a close personal relationship with God. I realized that witnessing to other inmates made me feel like I had a purpose. It became evident to me that my end of the deal I made with God in my cell that morning was to let God use me to help others get free from addictions and find contentment in life. I describe this as “ filling their God-sized hole”.

I was released from the Hennepin County Workhouse May 5^th, 2005 and it’s been quite a journey from then to now. Through my participation in Church and 12 step recovery programs I met quite a few people. I quickly developed a reputation as someone with a real fire, call and anointing. I had prayed the prayer of Jabez located in the first book of Chronicles 4:10 “ And Jabez had called upon the God of Israel, saying, Oh that thou wouldst bless me indeed and enlarge my boarder, and that thy hand might be with me, and that it may keep me from evil that I may not cause pain” (N.R.S.V. Tyndale, 1991). Like Jabez, the Lord granted me my request. A friend from one of my groups introduced me to a very wealthy entrepreneur from Hawaii who had a son struggling with addiction to alcohol. I was offered a job by this man to move in, mentor and monitor the activities of his son who was living here in Minneapolis on the top floor of the Calhoun beach club. I agreed to take the job because I felt that the Lord’s hand was in it. I moved in and things went well for about a week and then the young man I was mentoring fell right back into his old behavior patterns. He and I were butting heads on a regular basis and I told his father things were not working out. The young man’s father asked me if I would interested in going to the South Pacific Kingdom of Tonga to do missionary work and obtain theological training at the Youth With A Mission school located in the capital city of Nuku Alofa’. He promised to pay for my schooling, support my ministry and hook me up with some friends of his on the island who would be providing me with food and lodging. I immediately accepted the offer as I viewed this as an answer to my “ Prayer of Jabez”, and it was; it just would not come in the package it appeared to be.

It was approximately one week from the time I was made the offer and I was already on a plane to Tonga, which is roughly 13500 miles from Minneapolis. My travel time was around 23 hours and took me through Los Angeles, Xadi Fiji, Suva Fiji and then finally to Fuo Uamoto, Kingdom of Tonga. I lumbered off the plane, tired and exhausted. I looked around the airport and realized there was no one there to pick me up. I could not believe it, but it was true; I was on my own and there would be no help coming from the guy who sent me. I could start another chapter explaining more of this but I am going to choose not to. I plan on writing a book about my life someday, so if someone were dying to know more, I suggest you buy a copy of my book once it is published.

I met people on my own out there and I found a church. Through my willingness to help in anyway I could I was able to develop a real good relationship with my pastor, Randy Carlson, who was an Assembly of God missionary from the United States. Randy heard my story and was moved very deeply. Randy and his congregation offered to send me to the A.G. Tonga School of Theology and pay my tuition. I was given a room in the church to stay in on the weekends and during the week I stayed out in the school dorm with the Tongans. I was the first Palangi (white man) in the 25-year history of the school! I worked very hard on my studies and daily work detail, which immediately gained me the respect of my fellow students. I was elected Class Captain and Missions Director for the school after the first term. Along the way I met a businessman from New Zealand by the name of Rodd Jacques. Rodd has been a Christian his entire life and he was really moved by my testimony. Rodd and his family invited me into their home in Auckland, New Zealand during my school breaks. I was able to work at his warehouse so I was able to go back to Tonga with some extra money. I networked with many different people in New Zealand, gave my testimony to at-risk youth and spent an evening at Teen Challenge, New Zealand. I flew back and forth to New Zealand four times spending a total of 31 days, just another blessing the Lord sent my way.

The most important aspect of my travels is the fact that I remained sober the whole time. Integrity can be thought of as doing the right thing even when no one is looking and I proved to myself that I could do just that. When I look back at the series of events leading back to early 2005, it amazes me. One thing I tell people today is that God provides in and through one’s faithfulness. I was provided deliverance from a deadly lifestyle because I stepped out in faith and did the work he had set before me. Throughout that whole year I never needed for anything. The Lord, through my Brothers and Sisters in Christ, provided it all.

It’s been over two years since I have used drugs or alcohol and I have no desire to. Through my faithfulness and hard work, I have been delivered from my obsessions. I returned to the United States on December 23^rd, 2006. Since I hit my knees in that cell I have prayed, fasted with and given my testimony to people in two countries and one Kingdom in two different hemispheres on opposing sides of the equator.

Today I am working as a Chemical Dependency Tech at Missions Detox Center in Plymouth, Minnesota and I am attending college at Minneapolis Community and Technical College in Minneapolis to become a licensed Addiction Counselor. I also have my own ministry in which I mentor those who are struggling with drug and alcohol use. I have appropriately named it “God Sized Hole Ministries”. 1Timothy 1: 12-17 is a scripture I feel really surmises the events in my life. Please note I have added and underlined my own emphasis.

“I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me faithful, appointing me to his service. Even though I was once a drug dealer, bully, arrogant, self-centered, blasphemer, persecutor and violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners- of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life. Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen” (N.I.V. Zondervan 1985).

In a world so driven by material gain I have found peace in this personal revelation. Although I have achieved in this life many good things, none of those achievements are worth all that much to anyone other than my self; rather, it is all the trials, tribulations and defeats I have endured that are of the greatest use to my fellow man. It is really hard to believe that I have come so far in such a short amount of time, but I have lived it, so I know it’s true. Since our time together in jail, I ran into Clarence one time in Minneapolis. He was back on the crack pipe and was asking for $13.00. Clarence said he needed the money for a car part, but when I looked into his eyes, he knew that I could see he was he was high; hence he admitted to me that he was backslidden. I offered him a room at the sober house I was managing, but he declined, took the money I offered him and walked off into the distance. Keith, on the other hand, was doing real well the last time I saw him in fact, he was doing some ministry of his own. I have not been able to catch up with him since I returned home however, I hope to real soon. Nonetheless, I will never forget either one of them for the rest of my life. For the morning I sat down with Clarence Moore and Keith Hammonds to read the infallible word of God would be the morning I truly began to live.

All my life up until Jr. high I constantly questioned whether I truly in believed in God, or if I just said I did because I went to a Christian school.  Sure, I would pray, occasionally read the Bible- but in the back of my mind I always felt this small bit of doubt that made me wonder if my faith was truly genuine. Then when I was 13 and in 7th grade the following year, I made the wrong kind of friend, who had some issues back then, and would emotionally abuse and take advantage of me and 2 other of her closest ‘friends’. Nobody else ever knew though how she was acting towards us and thought she was really sweet, so me and the other 2 never really said anything because we didn’t want 2 just abandon her and make everyone turn on her.

Eventually all the stress made me extremely emotionally distraught, and it got to a point where I did indeed want to kill myself. I would pray so hard every night that God would do some kind of miracle of Biblical proportions in my life just to end my pain. After days of me praying everyday that I wouldn’t have to suffer like this, I came to a slow realization that God was always with me. He was with me and loved me when I doubted that I even truly believed Him, He was with me even as I held a bitterness towards Him for not ending a suffering I had brought upon myself, and that He was with me right there, at that very moment.  The more I realised that fact, the less it bugged me when that certain friend would try taking out there problems by making me feel bad, and you know what? Eventually she stopped doing it as often, and the more my life began to come together all because I stopped and understood that God loved me, and was greater than any pain I felt. After all of this, I never doubted ever again that God was real, because He IS real, and He never stops loving and wanting what’s best for us, even when we don’t realize it. Nothing I could write could ever describe how truly great He is, so I pray that everyone could understand God’s love for themselves and praise Him everyday of their lives because of it!

It’s with great thankfulness and love that I write what many times before has been attempted regarding the work salvation and deliverance God has wrought in my life. I understand the burden of truth. I know among the body there are wolves. Those who seek to destroy His body and seek to blemish the testimony of Jesus Christ. It is not my intent to bring accusation against Him, or me, or anyone but to declare as I understand it now His good works demonstrated to me and my older brother. This is the first part of my story…

Come and see the works of God; He is awesome in His doing toward the sons of men. [ Psalm 66:5 ]

For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. [ Hebrews 4:12 ]

A Little History

I was born November 1, 1973 in the Tri-Cities of East Tennessee into a Southern Baptist family. My family, although most of my life I’ve viewed as different, in reality considered normal in today’s society. It was during this time, I recall my first encounter with the supernatural.

Sometime during second grade my father had just received custody of me and my brothers from the court and I was returned to my father’s house where I began attending small rural elementary second grade. It was in the fall and I remember missing my friends from my other school deeply. There was a fall festival with lots of games for parents and kids. During this fall festival there was a room for a mystic fortune teller. I entered the room now a darkened chamber. She invited me to sit in a chair in front of her. I was a bit scared and intrigued at the same time, and the lady began telling me things about my life. She told me that I liked a girl named Michelle who had blond hair. I’d recently given her a token of my love and it was something that she coveted. I remember being astonished and stunned, and my heart raced as she began to flip over these large cards and say speak things to me that were to come. I was so amazed that she knew all of that stuff about me. I left the room excited and fearful, but soon forgot about it amongst all the other games that evening.

It wasn’t long until I found a book with a picture very similar to what I had seen in the fortune teller’s room. It was entitled, “Zork” and to my astonishment was a kind of book that you could choose your own outcomes and paths through the story as you read it. These books were made available to purchase through the book clubs and weekly readers the elementary school handed out to all the students. I began to read these books and I really liked the feeling of being able to choose my own path.

I can’t really tell you when or how long but some time between second grade and age twelve I began re-attending our small Baptist community church with my grandmother. I can still remember the feel of her hand on my back as I would lie my head upon her lap and listen to Reverend Tydings speak. He was speaking about God and reading from the Bible. It seemed like grown up stuff to me and I couldn’t really understand what he was saying, but I knew what he was saying had to be important because everyone was quiet and listening. One day, near the end of his speaking, his words seemed to reach out and grab me on the inside. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I just knew what he was talking about, I needed it. He beckoned, pleaded for people to come forward and repent. Not many did. I was looking around and didn’t see anyone else. I noticed him looking over the congregation as if trying to find something he had lost. His eyes passed over me, stopped, and began to move again. I was pierced, shaking, and terrified. I didn’t go forward.

Several Sundays passed much like this one where the words of Reverend Tydings gripped my heart as hard as the grip I had on the pew I was sitting in. I walked out one Sunday, knowing I was supposed to go up front.

That evening to my surprise there was commotion in my house about something my sister had just done. Everyone seemed to be glad and cheerful. When I asked what happened she told me she was “saved.” I remember asking what that means and she told me. I knew then that was what Reverend Tydings had been asking people to do at church. My vulnerability was revealed to me and my emptiness yearned for this Jesus. The details are so distant now that I can only remember my dad handing me the telephone after calling up the Reverend Tydings. I answered, “Hello?” and I heard the all to familiar voice on the other end. This time there was joy in his voice. He asked me few questions and I remember agreeing with each. Then I repeated a prayer with him over the telephone, all the while tears flowed. I hung up the phone and my sister came and gave me a hug. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my skinny frame. A feeling I had never felt before on the inside. I was happy.

Years passed by and although I attended church often, participated in the youth group, and even evangelized with the church’s muppet and music group. I never read my bible for more than was required or asked during church, I never prayed. That feeling I had when I was twelve had long since dulled and the old vulnerable, empty, and hurt was again part of my life. The only thing I did consistently was to read the fantasy books I had developed a habit of reading. I’d often pass through book stores looking for the Tarzan books my brother David had often read. One day while doing so I came across a big white covered book with the title “Dragonlance.” The cover looked much like my brother’s books so I thought I’d give it a try and buy it.

I began reading this book as soon as I got home. I couldn’t put it down. I was drawn into this fantasy world and became acquainted with and identified with its characters, their unique strengths and weaknesses, their magic.

By my freshman year of high school, I had read volumes of the books. I consumed them almost every chance I got. It was during this time that I began failing in school, most likely due to all of my time reading these books rather than studying.

My father began putting pressure on me to bring my grades up and do well in school. Often arguments would erupt from letters from teachers or a grade report. I would go back to my books to escape the anger that would rise up inside me when this happened.

One night, something happened. I had a dream of the book I had been reading. I was reading it in my sleep. I remember waking the next day to begin reading that same book only to find in my amazement where I had bookmarked the day before; I had already read within my dream.

I skipped ahead and began reading again. One of the characters was a mage and I didn’t think much of it until now but I considered, “What if dragons and magic were real?” I remember thinking that it could be real and have vanished like the stories I had read about in the bible. It just wasn’t around today. Honestly, I had never really considered the stories of the bible as being ‘fact’ nor did at this age did it dawn on me that they were.

In the book store I would always pass by a section that had books on magical practices and spirituality, so I stopped and found a few and bought them. They seemed very different and I thought it was foolish that anyone would believe them. Yet, I thought to myself… what if. It wasn’t long after reading through them that I found spells much like the ones I had read in my Dragonlance books.

Dreams continued to come to me, some were repetitive like the book ones, others full of lust, and then there were the dark ones. I had a re-occurring dream of me standing in my bedroom, over my body that was lying on the carpet in a massive pool of blood. I had slit my wrist and while I stood looking at my body, my family members would walk into my room as if viewing a body at a funeral.  I could hear them say, “I’m glad he’s gone”, “I hated him”. I never told anyone about these dreams though they stuck with me while I was awake.

Then it happened, I had just received my mid-term grade report and it was littered with F’s and D’s. My dad was furious, and I was feeling hopeless. One Wednesday night, my brother David came into my room to find me reading one of my books. “Want come to church with me tonight?” I looked up to let him know that I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, I had to make myself study. He turned to go and out of desperation , I said, “…Could you ask them to pray for me? Dad and I aren’t getting along.” Then, unlike my brother, he stopped, turned and said, “Well why don’t I pray with you now?” I can’t describe the feeling that rose up in me but it was a sickening feeling and I responded in disagreement. He asked why, and I told him how unworthy I felt to pray with him. He then left the room and returned a few moments later with his bible. He opened it and began reading from Luke 11:11.

All I can tell you next is what I can recall. When my brother spoke the scripture to me, I became almost dumbfounded. Like a sudden lethargy came upon me. Everything was in a haze like state. My brother’s voice became muffled and I remember him looking at me and asking if I’m alright. I responded with, no. Then he reached for me and all of the sudden my ears were filled with what sounded like a thousand voices screaming in my ears with pitches low to a shrieking high. I was flung backward on my bed and shaken violently by an unseen force. On my throat I could feel what seemed like a hand with sharp claws squeezing my throat. I found myself not in control of my body and what seemed like spasms went through my body. My brother had disappeared out of my vision. I was crying and writhing on my bed and my brother appeared from my left, as he had been knocked to the ground. He came and draped himself over my body trying to hold me still. I could hear him saying, “Jesus” but I couldn’t respond. I remember my arms easily lifting him as to push him off of me and hear him say, “In Jesus name.” What seemed like hours and was probably more like a few minutes passed and I came back into control of my body and I was fear stricken and crying. My brother was in the same state. What had just happened to me was unexplainable to both of us at this point. I lost track of the time but that feeling came over me again and the violent shaking started. This happened throughout that night. My brother became my protector that night. As I lay upon my bed in my room, in the darkness beings began to materialize in front of me and spit and curse at me. The voices seemed all too familiar to me as they were the same voices I heard when I would dream. They were speaking hate and death to me.

I have to say there are exact details that are cloudy but because of this event, my brother intent on seeing this stop called an elder of a church he had visited recently. Ed Townshend explained briefly that it sounded like he was dealing with demons. A few days later my brother had arranged for me to meet with Ed Townshend at his home. When I arrived he and his wife welcomed us into their home. The seemed to glow with kindness and peace. After introductions and speaking about the past few days events, they explained to me out of the bible, what had happened to me, they explained salvation, showed me numerous examples of demonic attack, the Baptism in the Holy Spirit and how it empowers a believer to be minister’s of the Gospel and how to combat the power of the Satan.

I wanted to be free from this. I began praying with them and while they were praying, that feeling came upon me again, out of my mouth came words that weren’t my own in hissing and spitting sounds and they began speaking verses from the bible. Then the shaking began again, it was all suddenly and my words now are not enough to explain it properly. When the shaking subsided and I was back in control, they asked me to pray after them a prayer of repentance and denouncement of the things I had been involved in. I did pray with them, they then laid their hands on me and a flood of peace invaded me. I was filled with the Holy Spirit, I began to speak in a language which I couldn’t understand.

I just recently turned 16. I had been dabbling in pornography for about 4 months. I had been compuslivley masturbating for about 2. I finally woke up to exactly how wrong what I was doing really was. I began undressing my sisters in Christ with my eyes. Everywhere I went, fantasies were popping into my mind. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. I never told anyone because I thought no one else dealt with this kind of thing. I thought that if I revealed what I was dealing with, everyone would judge and scorn me. I am a leader among my peers in my Youth group. I didn’t want them to see me going through this. I cried out to God but it seemed like my sin created a shadow between me and Him. I went with my youth group to Youth Explosion at Christian Retreat in Bradenton, Florida. In service on the night before the last night of camp, Corey Russel spoke, and at the end, he had an altar call to cry out to God for freedom from our hidden sins. While there, God moved mightily in me, removing the scars that my sins had made on my heart and completely freeing me from both of my hidden addictions. Now, I’m on fire for Him like never before. I’ve been given a vision of what’s going to happen if we don’t turn our generation around, and now I cry out daily for revival. If you find yourself dealing with the same things I did, tell someone. Pull your Youth Pastor aside and ask him to pray with you. If you don’t have a youth group, GET ONE! It is one of the greatest ways to keep on the right path.

This whole year, 2007 & half of last year, my drug use had just escalated. I got to the point where I needed it everyday. I had become a different person; mainly because of coricidins. A box of over-the counter cough pills. It was a full time job.. I have stolen so much money because I was also smoking marijuana & coke. Everything revolved around this..You can only imagine< Im not going into detail. Well around March I had really hit rock bottom and everyone was worried . It was obvious. After I got expelled from school. I ran away, got raped, ran from the police, and ended up in Rehab in April from the 1st -12th..  Well to make a long story short, I did good for awhile, met a guy at an AA meeting, Then  started going down the same road again.  

This is the interesting part.. Me & my boyfriend fell into the same trap & were barely hanging in there.. I took 13 ccc’s that day & he took 16. Well he grabbed his old “blood” bandana from his house. And we went to his old drug dealing friend’s house. His friends name was Cash & this other guys name was Conner. He rolled up a blunt & we went outside.

Once I had smoked some weed, everything, the trees, and people became really clear.. Like better than 20/20. At first it was cool, then it became scary because his friends looked like demons & everything they were saying was evil. Then Cash comes out the door with a gun & I got this clear vision that I was about to die. I told them I think Im about to die, and they should put the gun away. Then everything was obvious they were demons trying to kill Me. I said Chris(my boyfiend) I gotta talk to U. He was like it’s alright.  I looked at Him & he was like totally brainwashed>blind.. So I said Okay Lets get back to normal dont pass me that no more. cuz i was freakin out.. & the whole time Cash & his friend were talkin to me.. I was thinkin No if they were humans they wouldnt be talking like that.. I was going crazy. But it was so Real… I dont remember exactly what happened or how I got the clip to the gun but I got it and walked outside where we parked saying I would give it back when were in the car.

Cash & Chris followed Me outside & just stood there. I said Chris get in the car. Cash was like give me the clip, and he tried to grab it. But I was holding on tight. I said let go. Let go. He wouldnt so I said let go in the name of Jesus, and he just froze. Then He turned around & told my boyfriend to get in the car before he beats his ass. & he did.

We got half-way down the road. & Chris couldnt drive.. I said get out, Let me drive.. So I drove.. after not being able to drive for 3 months.. & I wasnt even familiar with that part of town, But Jesus was guiding Me. 

By the time we got home (didnt get lost at all.) As soon as I stepped out of the car my head was clear like I hadnt been doing drugs at all.. Like I was completely renewed. I went in & my Mom said that usually she doesnt look in the paper but that day she happened to see the winning garden of the month or something.. & it said 821 Brittany Lane.. & thats my name & my Birthday.. I was reborn. I won.

I am 17 and was previously delivered from marijuana and heavy partying.  But the worse temptation of them all, was pornography.  Pornography to me, is the worst addiction that I went through and still struggle with today.  A lot of people may be reading this and thinking how is pornography more addicting then drugs, I can’t tell you why but I can tell you that any sin is tempting because it tempts sinners.  I can honestly say I spent countless hours and days being indulged in the addiction. Any chance I had I would take it.  It was like food, I had to eat in able to be filled.  It soon put me into a depression, which I can’t figure if it was from the side affects of drugs, or that pornography was so addicting.  I soon found myself wondering why I was so addicted and why after being saved was I still being tempted.  The truth is, (I am kind of backtracking) I was saved back in January after I woke up one morning, after a heavy night of partying, and realized God was calling me back to Him.( I was brought up in the church and began to cover myself with sin around the age of 15).  So after all of this I still wondered why I was indulging myself in constant sin.  Then  I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I prayed and asked God to change my hardened heart and make it clean again.  I just prayed this prayer today after having an on an off struggle with sin.  So if you read this, I ask that you pray for me (Brandon) to stay strong in the Lord.