I was born in the late 60's on a military base in the Southern USA. My biological father was in the military, the son a farmer, the son of a Slavanian immigrant. My parents were raised in Wisconsin. My dad was in the military 8 years. He got out when I was about 5. The first couple years of my life, my dad was in Vietnam. At the age of 9 months, without having ever crawled, I got up and ran. I was given a sister when I was 2. After my dad came back, he was stationed in Chicago, where we lived until I was about 4. I remember going to Sunday School class, probably in a Lutheran Church. I asked my teacher if I could get a drink of water. I remember getting a drink because I didn't want to lie, but my real motive was to leave and go home. I proceeded to exit the building and started walking home. I saw my teacher coming after me in a car, so I ran in a field to hide, but she found and got me. I got a spanking for that one.
Soon my dad got stationed in Michigan. It was there I started Kindergarten. Another early memory about this time, is rock climbing with my dad. I remember we were walking on a narrow ledge above a very steep cliff over a strong river rapids, (my dad tells me that it wasn't a complete drop off, there was some slope, my memory of it is almost as a dropoff). I slipped and slid down the steep slope. As I fell my hands went up, and as they did, I grabbed a small branch or stem of a bush or tree as I fell by it. I held on to it with both hands. My dad reached down and grabbed me just as the branch snapped. I remember looking down to see the branch fall down to the river.
It wasn't long after I started kindergarten, that my dad left the military. We stayed at my mother's parents, until my parents could find our own place. They ended up renting my dad's grandparent's house, on his mother's side. I switched schools it was in a different district and town in Wisconsin. We stayed there until the summer between my 2nd and 3rd grades. It was this home that I had the following dream.
I was in a room at my school. It was called the Fish Bowl Room. It was circular with about 4-6 stairs leading down to the center. In effect it looked like a bowl. I was standing in this room in my dream. On the wall was a screen. It was like a TV screen. It was live and it had satan on it. He could see me as well. In fact he was laughing at me and pointing right at me. As he did so, I began to melt into a pool of blood. I was about 50% melted when my mother came running in and threw a glass of water on me. I became whole, and then woke up. Here is the interpretation. Satan had authority to destroy me because I was unsaved. My mother represents the church and the water represents the Word of God. Through the church, with the Word of God, I became saved.
My parents bought a prefab house which they put near my dad's parents place, out in the country near another town in Wisconsin, but in the same school district as my mother's parents.
It was here, what I still refer to, as my home or home town. My dad's family; his dad and brothers, owned perhaps near 2000 acres. On this property we had 2 lakes, a dozen or so ponds (the ponds were less than nothing to us), a creek, a sand dunes, farm fields, swamps, and plenty of woods. They are hunters and fisherman. We had a garden bigger than a football field. This land was very cherished by my dad's family, and brought years of exploring and contentment for myself. I still have fond memories of the land.
We began to attend a Lutheran church about 3 towns north of us, where my mother's family went. It was here where I learned the Bible and became a believer in Jesus. We had Vacation Bible schools, Christmas dramas, and later I became an acolyte and was president of the new formed youth club. I think it was in about the 4th grade or so, I began to excel in Sunday School. By the time I was confirmed (somewhere near the 7th grade) I was answering all the teacher's Bible questions. During confirmation, I was the only one who could answer the pastors questions. He had to ask the other students directly by name to get any answer from them.
It was in 3rd grade, however, that I met a lifelong friend. He was a year younger than me. He lived down the road from me, a couple of miles or so, towards town. We lived 5 miles from town. As years went by, we became very good friends. But in a few years he moved to a city, about an hour away. We kept in touch as best we could, but the distance caused us to put or friendship on hold at times.
I think it was about when I was in the 7th grade, when my parents were divorced. To this day, I don't believe it hurt me that bad. Yeah, I cried alot when it happened; yeah, it caused problems and sin in my life; yeah, it was from satan; but it didn't knock me down. It was the marriages after that really sent me for a loop. We (my sister and I) were given free choice on whom we would live with. I chose to live with my dad, my sister chose to live with my mom. As I look back now at this time, perhaps even for the first time; the family memories I most cherish came before this event. I don't have many memories about the following years. They were hard for my dad and I. He is a disabled veteran, and most of the time it had been my mother providing the income. My dad hunted, gardened, did all he could to provide for us. Later, for him and I. On weekends, and during the summer, I would visit my mom and sister.
My mother had been working in the city my friend had moved to. She had been driving there two hours every day for years (an hour there, an hour back). So with her moving there, I did get to spend a little more time with my friend.
My mother married a man who was previously married. He had 5 kids, 3 daughters and 2 sons. His youngest, a daughter, was my age. He is a devout Catholic and my mother a devout Lutheran. So the wedding was performed by a Catholic priest and a Lutheran pastor. Today (as of the time I wrote this),they still are involved in both churches.
My dad married a cousin of my Mother. She had 2 children also. A daughter who was about 7 years younger than me and a son who was about 10 years younger than me. She was a Baptist. My stepmother was about 13 years older than me.
At first I got along well with my stepmother, but not so well with my stepdad. But in time it switched, quicker though with my stepmom. Soon I began to hate her. To this day, I can say she was the only person I ever truly hated. May God forgive me, as I have forgiven her. But at one time, I would actually plot terrible things to be done to her in my mind. I have since repented.
There was a prophetic incident during this time period. One day, my dad went to my stepmom's dad's house. He owned a plane and a private airfield. This was about 40 minutes drive from my home. My dad was invited to go flying with him. On a spur of the moment, I decided to go hunting. I took my dad's truck out, and proceeded to get it stuck in a ditch in a swamp. I walked to a friend's house and called my uncle to get a tractor and pull me out. When he came, an airplane flew over, I wondered out loud, "Could that be my dad?". When my dad came home, he said to me, "So, you went hunting with my truck", and I knew that it was indeed my dad who was watching from above. Always I now know, that my Father in heaven watches me from above, no matter what I do, He see's me.
When I reached high school, I really started to become independant. I became active in any, and almost all extra curricular activities, half of them I think today, just to get out of the house away from that situation I couldn't handle. It was through these activities that the fire brought some purification to me, as God's gifts in me became known. Also through my high school guidance counselor, who would bear listening to my anguished soul. The Lutheran church didn't help me, except in the teaching me the Bible. I didn't learn any doctrine about God helping me, I didn't learn about the Comforter (the Holy Spirit), but only the saving grace of Jesus Christ for eternal salvation in heaven, nothing for today. I think I remember asking about salvation, and was told that we wouldn't know if we were saved until we died or on Judgemnt Day.
I learned that I didn't like team sports and was not good at them, except softball. I wasn't good in band either, but excelled in singing, drama, and story telling.
In the summer between 9th and 10th grade, I decided to run away from home. I had had enough of my stepmother. I smuggled nearly all my possessions into a huge bed of tall ferns, across the road and field from my house. But as I was away walking in the woods, my dad found my stuff and left a sign for me to come home. All I had left was a pair of binoculars, a canteen, and a hatchet, which I had been carrying. That upset me further. I may have came home within a day, but losing my stuff hardened my resolve and I lived in the woods for 3 days and 2 nights. I slept through a thunderstorm in some bushes and stole food out of the garden at nite. But on the 3rd day, I had decided to go to my mother's house. I was frightened of my dad's anger for my running away, and still hated my stepmom, but my fear of my dad was the greater. So, I jumped into the road as my stepmom went to work (she worked in the same city as my mother). She stopped and let me in. I said, "I want to go to my mothers's and I don't want to talk." She left me alone and took me to my mother's house.
I was given the freedom to move in with my mother, we were originally told that we could only switch parents as our residence only once, to keep us from manipulating our parents. Mercifuly, they always were kind to each other after the divorce, and never spoke bad about the other (praise God). I had to share a bedroom with my stepdad's youngest son.
Because of confrontations with some of the neighborhood kids during previous summer visits, I decided to go to the Catholic school my stepdad sent his kids to, instead of going to the public school and meeting up with the angry neighborhood kids.
What I liked to do, was to tease bullies, I got the thrill of adrenaline as they chased me. I was fast. I figured I could outrun anyone who was strong enough to hurt me. I guess this started because God put in me, the hatred of injustice. Whether or not I liked the kid they picked on, was of no importance to me, I always tried to judge things rightly. So, in turn, I would tease these bullies. I would spend lunch hours in high school teasing them and have them chase me. I got addicted to the addrenalin rush of having big brutes chasing me. May God have mercy.
So to Catholic school I went. I didn't like the Catholic Church at all then, neither did I like the Baptist church. Once, when I was with my dad and stepmom, they decided we all were going to go to her Baptist church. I spoke out my allegiance for the Lutheran church and voiced my dissent. But was forced to go nonetheless. At the church I refused to participate at all. Growing up, my sister and I were taught and forced to participate in the service. I did so willing, but not that day in the Baptist church. I was threatened and scolded, but when we went home I think I got only a minor yelling at, but was never forced to endure religous services I disagreed with again. I believe my dad stepped in on this decision and recognized my choice.
Anyhow, at the Catholic school, I was alone in the school for not having to take religous training. But the most interesting thing happened to me there. I was popular. Almost everyone liked me. It had partially to do with the school dances. None of the guys would dance. At my other school they did. So when I danced, everyone was amazed. We had dances every Saturday nite, and dance I did! Tho not in any great way, but perhaps my enthusiasm and boldness, is what caused the other guys to dance also.
School was great there. People were even encouraging me to ask the head cheerleader to the Prom. However, I developed a problem that I couldn't take care of, I won't go into detail here. The problem was with someone else, I wasn't angry or in hatred like with my stepmom, but it had to do with something else, that I could find no resolvement for.
In the end, I skipped school, and wandered the city thinking of running away from home. Eventually, frustrated, because I did't want to move, especially back with my stepmom. I didn't want to run away again. I couldn't or wouldn't expose the situation or problem with anyone else (and no it had nothing to do with abuse of any sort to my person, mother, or sister). I decided to go to my pastor, at my mother's Lutheran church.
In the end, I had to lie. I told my pastor I was frustrated with my life, I wouldn't tell him what the problem was. He proceeded to help and prod me with questions and advice, but because of my closed answers, he came up with a question of my being suicidal. He suggested a stay in the hospital. I agreed. I was not suicidal, I was frustrated with a situation, not with my life. I wanted to leave the situation, which required my moving, but I did not want to move back with my stepmom. So I jumped on the idea of going to the hospital.
What's funny and terrible, is that this false idea worked. In about a week and half after being in the hospital, the Psychiatrists told my parents I was sexually repressed, that I had a hard time speaking or manifesting my sexual desires.
I would like to say that his insight is not only way off, but sinful. I believed at the time, that sex was for marriage. I didn't like to talk about sex or fantasies, because: one, it was wrong; and two, it was embarassing and shameful. How many males like to discuss sex and women, we all should know the percentage is high. Most young boys and teens have them, but to push them to verbalize it and express it- that's sinful. They need to be taught that these desires are for marriage, and that abstaining not feeding the desires is what is correct. I've always had heterosexual feelings. Well, the doctor had his say, and it never was brought forward again.
A decision was put before; where to live? In the end, I decided to tell my dad about the problem, he whole heartedly understood, kept it quiet, and helped fix it. He also gave me opportunity to move back, despite the original conditions given to my sister and me.
So I moved back with my dad and stepmom. I got some peace from my stepmom, mostly by her and I ignoring each other. It was acceptable to me. But soon after, out house burned down.
I had been teaching myself piano, my stepmom owned one, but it burned, along with everyone's stuff except mine. However, eventually I had to throw almost everything away, because of smoke or water damage. I had continued to find my other talents, as a positive outlet to getting away from the house, my stepmom in particular.
Now, my problems with my stepmom were nearly solved. We moved into an apartment. It was too small so we rented 2 apartments. The 2nd was for me and storage. That was way cool. At 15, I had my own apartment!
Well, in about a year, my dad had the house rebuilt. We moved in. In the summer between my 11th and 12th year. I decided I had had enough of living with my stepmom, and the situation in the city where my mother lived, which had bothered me there, was now resolved. I chose to move back with my mom and stepdad. I was told that this would be it, forever, no more bouncing between parents. I agreed.
By now, the incident with the neighborhood kids, had distanced itself, and we no longer even knew each other. I also was embarrassed to go back to the Catholic School, even tho I had been popular there. It had reached the school, that I was hospitalized for being suicidal. (Lies will haunt you!) So, I decided to go to the public school for my senior year. This is where my long time childhood friend was, even tho I was a year older than him. Our friendship had wanned, but existed on a small scale. He introduced me to a new friend, whom became my best friend all that year. These 2 friends are now the closest friends I have. (Besides, Jesus my Lord and my beautiful wife!) They are precious to me, and I thank God for them. (God bless you two!)
During my senior year, a great change came on me. I finally gave over to the works of evil. I became a true worldly teenager. I got involved in stealing, drinking, stealing alcohol, and smoking cigars. I stole perhaps 500 cases of beer. I got invited to alot of parties. Hey, I had the beer.
I knew what I was doing was wrong. I would sell the beer and soda I stole, turn around and give alot of the money to the church, thinking it would, appease God or my conscience. I remember one time when I was drunk, my stepdad came into my room complaining about the light fixture in my room, which had gotten broken during a small party. I got angry and was worried he would find my stolen beer in the closet. Up to 30 cases or so at a time could be found in there. So I threatened him, yelled at him to never come in my room. I put his head under my arm in a headlock and threatened to kill him. I even squeezed his neck with the force of my arm, and I was in wrestling that year at school. (May God forgive me, but next is perhaps worse.) The next morning, when sober, my mom and stepdad, began to question me about my behavior. I told them (May God grant me mercy!), to leave me alone, because perhaps I was the returned Christ.
I was a mixed up kid. God was calling me, and as He was pulling me to repentance I could feel it, and I knew I was in sin. This, mixed with my limited Bible knowledge and the work of satan, made me a pathetic creature.
My dad also got divorced again. Had I known, I probably would have stayed with him, but alas, we don't know those things.
Well, I got caught stealing. I was 17. I had, at the age of 15, waited to sign up for the military. The day I turned 16 (or about then), I went to Milwaukee, to get a physical and enrolled in the Delayed Entry Program. So, when I got caught stealing, I was afraid the A.F. military would find out. I confessed to taking about 50 cases. The number stolen was not known. I didn't know how much exactly, but knew it had to be around 500. But since noone knew, I said about 50.
I got off with a small fine, had to return any stolen goods. My record was promised to stay sealed as a minor, and would not be given to the military because it was my first offense. But I had to keep my nose clean.
Well, this shook me up a little. But, I think I stopped going to church, or went less frequently. I graduated, with no problems, except for a graduation party which got out of hand. I planned on enjoying the summer off before going in the military, but my dad needed help. My stepmom was gone, he was unemployed, and disabled. So, 2 weeks after graduation I went in the military to help support my dad.
The Military. It changed me. I stayed away from illegal activities and cleaned my act up a little. But I was independant and selfish. I filled my life with entertainment; games and computers. I stopped going to Lutheran church, I tried once, it felt dead to me. I got new friends. Played Dungeons and Dragons, and other role playing games. I started to drink, to get drunk on the weekends.
I had started Dungeon & Dragons in High School, and was highly fascinated with it. I started as a Dungeon Master. Fantasy and Magic were really interesting to me. I was into: UFO's, Bigfoot, Lochness Monster, Bermuda Triangle. All those borderline cult interests. I thought all of it was real, and was highly into it. I bought books, watched specials and movies on the stuff. But God had mercy on me; never, ever, did I know magic and witchcraft were alive and real. That, I thought, was fantasy. Had I known it was real, I would very easily and hungrily went to it.
My dad got married again, I stopped sending money. He married my High School Librarian and Forensics coach (from my story telling). She is a wonderful lady, and now she is family to me. She is a precious woman.
Now I had more money for booze and games. I played even more Role Playing games. My friend whom I drank and gamed with, was from Oklahoma, and was going to meet with another friend or two, for two weeks of Role Playing. So he invited me and his supervisor whom we sometimes drank with. So we all scheduled for our Leave (military vacation) and went together. Before we left. My friend told me he was going to be smoking marijuana, while on leave. I could have some if I wanted, but there was no pressure. I declined at the time, but wanted to drink and game.
Drink and game we did. And smoked dope. I decided to try it. I tried it for 2 weeks. God was with me. Not once did I get a buzz. It did absolutely nothing for me. We tried even some hash. We did bong, pipe, cigarette; none of it affected me. They told me it could take 2 or 3 days. But even they were astonished that 2 weeks of it did nothing for me, as they continually got wasted. On the last day, I did it with some alcohol, then I got a slight buzz. But it was probably the alcohol. On the way back, I decided breaking the law for smoking dope wasn't worth it, especially if I didn't get anything out of it.
Then one day, my friend, decided to come to my dorm room for some drinking and entertainment. But, the plan was, he was gonna get toasted and I would stay sober and drive him to his barracks. This is in North Dakota. His dorm was a block away, but it was VERY cold, VERY windy, and ALOT of snow. Well, he talked me into drinking one or two, and I got a slight buzz. So when it came time for him to go, he wanted me to dive him. I declined because of my slight drunkeness. He got furious, left, and ended our friendship.
Perhaps God, perhaps not. But God used it. My drunkeness and role playing declined severely.
After this, another friend introduced me to a girl. She became my girlfriend. Her parents were Catholic, and after we dated for about a year, it was told to me, that if we married I would need to become Catholic, and without a doubt, our children WOULD be Catholic. I had been going to church with them, just to be with her, at first. But then, I began to feel God calling me to Him. In answer to this call, mixed with the advice of my girlfriend's parents, I pursued God through religion in the Catholic church.
I went to adult catechism. Then, my relationship with my girlfriend ended.
This was a monumental time in my life. I had filled my life with lust for my girlfriend and with hopes of marriage. I became very depressed and had genuine thoughts of death. I knew I could't kill myself, so I pondered getting a criminal to kill me, or to starve myself to death.
Praise God for His hand! In the midst of this, a Catholic friend of my exgirlfriend, who was a wife of a military Officer, befriended me, and took up the sponsorship of my catechism. She also steered my wounded soul to Jesus. Yes, in the midst of Catholocism there are those who love Jesus.
Everyday, I began to pray more and more. I would take walks and invite Jesus to walk with me. MY life started to heal, and I began my personal relationship with God at this time. Sadly, again at this time, Satan came to twist God's call. I decided to become a Catholic priest.
I began to love Catholocism, in truth it was Jesus whom I loved for helping me during the depression, but I confused it with religion. But I loved religion as well, because I found something that could consume me, with the air of holiness. This was a lie, however. I was led to believe through the Lutheran and Catholic church that God did not have any tangible presence on the earth or in our lives, so religion was the next best thing, so I thought.
I had a couple of problems with Catholocism though; that was praying to saints and confession to priests. I resisted these strongly, even to the priests. But I submitted grudgingly, so as to find my place.
And that I did. A priest recomended a Catholic writer to me, Thomas Merton. He was a Trappist monk. After reading him, I was persuaded to become a monk myself.
I did much research. I discovered different kinds of monks. I narrowed it down to becoming a Trappist monk. Though, not because of Thomas Merton being one, but because they lived the strictest lifestyle.
I had turned my depression into bitterness towards the world, and towards hope of marriage. I had since high school wanted to marry early, quickly, and have children. This is why I was pushed into an ascetic lifestyle, manipulated, controlled, and eunicised by the demonic spirit of Jezebel and with the help of a demonic religous spirit as well.
I found that there were about 7 Trappist monasteries in the U.S.. I took a leave of absence (a military paid vacation) to a monastery in Iowa. It was okay, but not ascetic enough.
Well, I began to write to different monasteries, and the military offered an early out program, to save on their budget. This I began to plan for. I got confirmed in the Catholic church and scheduled to visit a promising monastery in Colorado, about a month and a half after my military separation.
This monastery seemed to be the strictest of all. It was secluded in the mountains about 10 miles from Aspen. The monks were separated from women at all times, only during Sunday service, could a monk even see a woman, and that through a doorway into another room, where guests could assemble for the service. They also were young, and shipped the elderly monks away, to other places.
Well, in my last week in the military, I learned to juggle from a Catholic priest and visited a city in Canada with the priest as well.
When I got out, I stayed with my dad and stepmom, until I decided what to do with my life. I had a little over a month to wait, to visit the monasery in Colorado.
As a Catholic, I had straitened out my life somewhat, but this was by my own power. I had even given up Dungeons & Dragons. I had given away or sold most of my possessions, almost certain of my decision to become a monk. But one day, my friends talked me into Dungeon Mastering another, final, Dungeons & Dragons game.
It started well, then after about 2 hours of playing, I began to get sick. My stomach began to ache. Let it be known that stomach aches had been the worst pains I could tolerate. It got so bad, I had to stop playing and had to go home.
Once at my dad's it got worse. I believe to this day it was demonic sickness, because I had stopped role playing on my own power then went back. Anyways, after, 2 days and nites, the pain became unbearable. After 2 nites of no sleep, I decided to pray for help.
I prayed something like this:
"Dear God, please help me, this pain is so bad I would rather die. Please take this pain away. I will do anything you want, if you take away this pain. I will choose death as well, over this pain."
Please understand, I had never heard of healing, never seen it either. Only this, about my senior year in high school, a friend of mine told me his dad was going to see some minister that heals. I had seen on TV reports of false healing ministers, and told him so. I had never heard of real ones. And I don't think his dad came back with any healing stories. In short, I cried out to God in pain, not faith, not hope, but yet earnestly.
Praise God for God! Because He heard me! After praying, I felt led (I believe this was the first ever, of this nature or magnitude), to go read a Catholic Church bulletin that was sitting in my room. I rarely, if ever, read those things, and usually they would get tossed in the garbage.
In it, it said, something to the effect of: Catholic Charismatic Conference, place ----, time ----, and so on.
Please understand, I had never ever, heard of the Charismatic movement except this: Once, while in the military, at a Catholic Prayer group or study, someone mentioned that there was a Charismatic Prayer group in town. I simply asked "what is that?" And was told to the effect that they prayed strongly or differently or something like that.
Well, anyway's, I told God, "If you want me to go to this, if it is your will, I will go, just please take away the pain."
Five minutes later. The pain was gone.
That Friday nite, I went to the conference. There, I saw some acquaintances of a friend. My friend was trying to get me to renounce Catholocism, and introduced me to these folks.
That nite, I saw people worship God in a way I had never seen before. They worshipped with a different style of music as well. It was contemporary, which I did not know at the time.
Near the end of the nite, I spoke to God, "Lord, why do you want me here? I learned a new style of worship, is this what you wanted?". I seemed to get a response of: wait until tomorrow, come back here again.
The next day at the conference, I met up with the single man whose acquaintance I had met through my friend. He decided to take some conference classes with me. One class I went to, was called: The Gifts of the Holy Spirit.
In this class, the teacher read off a bunch of scriptures that were jibberish to me. After this, he asked for the raising of hands of those who wanted the Baptism of the Holy Spirit. I raised my hand, and then left it up for a question. Which was, "What is the Baptism of the Holy Spirit?". He answered with, "It's when you ask the Holy Spirit to be in your life.".
Now, I had been taught as a Catholic, that you received the Holy Spirit at confirmation. (Remember, this IS a Catholic Charismatic Conference.) So when he gathered the dozen or so who raised their hands to get this, I declined.
He then asked the rest of us, "How many of you, who have the Holy Spirit, would like a gift of the Holy Spirit, please raise your hands." I raised my hands with about a dozen others. They all wanted the gift of tongues. I asked for the gift of prophecy, for I had enjoyed reading about the Old Testament prophets.
Now, I had never heard of tongues, nor had heard them. Only this I knew, from Lutheran Sunday School; that at the time of pentecost, the Holy Spirit came upon the apostles and tongues of fire were on their heads, and then foreign people heard them speak in their native languages.
Needless to say, I had no idea what these dozen or so people wanted, nor what it meant. I was the only one to ask for something different, the gift of prophecy. Was I earnest? Yes. Did I think it possible? I did not consider it possible or not. I was simply honestly answering the questions with the situation put before me, trying to obey and find what God had for me.
The teacher then took us aside, into another corner. Then he asked the remaining people to pray for these 2 groups when the time came.
He then proceeded to give a small instruction in the receiving of tongues. He said he would pray for us, with the laying on of hands, and with the help of 2 ladies, who would pray as well over us. He then instructed us saying something to the effect of: that we may feel in our spirit the Holy Spirit moving and we would need to open our mouth and speak as the Holy Spirit would guide or lead us to.
After this, having finished instructing us, being moved by God, he came straight to me, purposeful, laid hands on me. Upon doing so, enormous amounts of power came through him into me. He said to me, "Let it out, let it out." I opened my mouth, and let this power within me, manifest in language through my voice. I began to shout in an unknown language. After a moment, he proceeded to pray for others. I, on the other hand was completely baffled by what was happening to me. In a couple moments, I toned down my volume, but it was difficult, due to the enormous energy in me and in ignorance of the situation. I continued to speak in other tongues, but wondered in English, "What is this, how can I be thinking in English, trying to understand what this power is and be speaking in another language. (The answer to this is found in 1 Corinthians 14:14). At the time I did not understand. After the teacher had prayed for everyone, and to my observance, it seemed that there was only one other person who may have had the manifestation of tongues. That, of a man who was in someway, seemingly to me, mentaly or verbaly handicaped in some way. He was mumbling weakly I believe, possibly in tongues.
The teacher, told me to go home and practice. I did not learn what happened to me, nor did I understand, nor was I taught. Today, however, I can tell you, I was baptised in the Holy Spirit.
I did learn that the pope recognizes the baptism of the Holy Spirit as being a separate work of God. I learned much later, that this knowledge is taught in the youth catechism in only one year of their education briefly. Most, if not all denominations, recognize or have had a charismatic movement, but it is sometimes hidden, and often rejected by the people or the ministers.
Well, I went home that day, and at home, I could not speak in tongues. Somehow, it just couldn't or wouldn't manifest. I began my preparations for my trip to Colorado to the monastary.
I took the bus to Colorado, at the bus stop in Chicago, I saw a young woman who was dressed in black and had some medallion around her neck. Upon seeing this, that power that had come in me, but had since been quiet or unobserved, rose up within me, and I started speaking in tongues. I did so very quietly, so as not to draw attention, but I felt I knew within me, that that girl was involved in the occult. After a few minutes or so, I stopped speaking in tongues, and couldn't start again. This amazed me, but I began to understand that this was God.
I arrived at the monastery and I loved it. It was everything I thought I was looking for. It was very ascetic. While there, I helped with some chores, but I mostly had time to pray or do what I wanted. I went to their services and chanting, I ate with them. I enjoyed it. While helping with duties on their ranch, I went to the sheep barn and found a new born lamb. I was instructed to pick it up and clean it from it's birth. I was the first to pick it up and to clean it. It was an awesome experience.
Well, everything seemed wonderful, and I was convinced that this would be my life. But, I wanted to pray and ask God for final confirmation to His will. I wanted obedience to Him above all.
I decided to do this at the top of a mountain. So I began my climb up a mountain to pray. About halfway up, I experienced something utterly fantastic and unknown to me. It was the presence of God.
As a Lutheran and Catholic, I had believed that the presence of God could not be felt on the Earth anymore. I cannot say if this was taught to me, or if it was implied, or if I was in error through ignorance. Nonetheless, I was COMPLETELY surprised. You must understand all that happenned so quickly, my years of religous training and experience, whether accurate or not, had not prepared me for this. Alot went through my mind very quickly. It was not like the Baptism of the Holy Spirit either. Yes, there was power, but not a chaneled power to be manifested in some gift. It was God Himself present. Not visually, neither was He present to my natural ears. I cannot explain God's presence to those who have never experienced it. It is uncomprehedible. It's like walking into a living wall of light, and doing so not knowing it's there. This is figurtive, I felt no "wall" or obstructsion, I felt a PRESENCE. The PRESENCE was immense, unmeasurably immense. I felt drawn to the PRESENCE, it was drawing me quietly and respectfully of my will. It had the "air" of the solving all my questions. This "it" and "PRESENCE" was God. When it is experienced, it is understood completely, unless one chooses to lie to himself and denounce God in His face.
Anyways, I was dumbfounded. I was unprepared. I could sense His presense was emanating further up, somewhere near the top, but I was only halfway to the top. The only thing I could think of to do, that seemed appropriate, was to take off my shoes and socks and continue on barefoot. This is what Moses was commanded to do by God when he met God on a mountain.
Onward I went, barefoot until near the top, I fell on my knees in the presence of God. There, I learned that God did not want me to be a monk, that He wanted me to move to a specific city in Wisconsin (here unnamed). I left the mountain speaking and singing in tongues. I have been able to pray in tongues at will ever since.
I moved to this city, but before doing so, I called my exgirl friend, motivated by the flesh or satan, and tried to renew the relationship. She desired to renew it as well. It was then I was struck with boils.
I quickly learned the difference between the spirit and the flesh. To this day I am happy to say I ended that relationship by my choice in obedience to God instead of the various otherways it could have ended.
I rented an apartment and shared the place with the acquaintance who had witnessed my being baptised in the Holy Spirit. This brother in the Lord and the other acquaintances, became my new friends. I continued for a few weeks going to Catholic Church and found some Catholic Charismatic meetings to go to. But it soon became apparant, that the Catholic Church was ignorant of these things or was withholding them, so I left the Catholic Church.
I finally got settled into a nondenominational local church and received water baptism.
These new friends had tapes and teachings from a church down in Texas. It was from this that I became Biblically educated it the ways of the Holy Spirit and the gifts, as well as other Biblical teachings. It was through this, that God told me to go to this church in Texas and go to the Bible School that they had. But I disobeyed.
I was afraid to tell my friends, who were my spiritual elders, that God had called me to the place where they were getting their teachings from. I was afraid of jealousy, and afraid that they would disbelieve it. It was a man pleasing spirit I had. (God forgive me.)
Then, my roomate got engaged and was moving to Florida, he asked me to go with him. I was newly out of the milatary, not established in the job market. In disobedience to God, I went to Florida.
After arriving, my friend rented a condo, set it up for his soon to be bride and left me there to watch the place, while he went back to Wisconsin to get married.
I was miserable down there. In disobedience, my life had become dry, I couldn't seem to hear from God. Some pastor had told me, that I would have to look back and do the last thing that God had commanded me to do. Of coarse, I had hidden it and had lied to myself. I missed, the fleshly comforts and securities of the military. And so, I tried to go back in the military. God tried to stop me, that military Branch wouldn't take me, so I went to another Branch. Now I was in real disobedience, and satan threw me a wonderful offer: I could keep my rank, E-4, which had more authority than the original Branch. I also did not have to go through basic training; nor would I need technical training. Oh that hook was baited sweet and I bit.
Before, swearing into this Branch, I went back to Wisconsin. While in Wisconsin, I came to my senses and realized I was in sin. I decided to not go in. However, the recruiters kept giving me a hard time. They faked a phone call from an officer and said I would go to jail if I didn't go. I became intimidated by them, my dad, and through the advice of a pastor, who said, I shouldn't have any skeletons in my closet. So I decided to go. Let it be known, that I had not even been sworn in, nor had my contract been signed, that the pressure was demonic and a lie.
But I did swear in, I gave myself to satan's plan, and not God's. I hoped to get out quickly, because I knew that you could leave the military in the first 180 days without any penalty, except perhaps bad words tossed at you.
I was sent to orientation for 2 weeks, to learn some basics, in a very relaxed setting.
I was persuaded to "rough it out", to wait and see. How foolish I was. Because there, the instructors knew about the 180 day discharge, but by then I had given in to satan.
I waited about 2 months before being sent to Japan, to board a very old aircraft carrier.
An interesting experience I had there before I left. I knew that satan was after me and watching me. A flock of crows would follow me on the base. I knew they were possessed by demons, because no matter where I went they would follow and when I rebuked them in Jesus name (no matter if in a loud voice or in a conversational voice) they would leave. I would express my faith to friends I made there, and once I went somewhere with a friend and told him about these crows. Well, he tested this we walked awhile and changed directions several times and the crows followed. When he was persuaded that indeed they were following me, I rebuked them in Jesus name and they left. He was greatly astonished.
I stayed in Japan about 3 weeks before the ship left. I was intrigued by the sea life. I also began ordering ministry tapes from Texas.
The ship was only half filled, and hence was roomy. We cruised to another port in Japan, I think to one of the cities the U.S. dropped an Atomic bomb on. I think we "sailed" to another Japan port after that. Then we went back to the port of origin. I don't remember the names. But I was actually assigned to a unit that was stationed inland at another base. This was where I was sent. I was there for a few weeks before the unit would leave with the ship.
I continued to study the Bible and listened to Bible teachings that taught me God's ways. It was this next voyage that I became determined to leave this Branch of military as well.
We went to the Phillipines and Hong Kong. I was at each for a week. I began to see great immorality. In the Phillipines, the locals would learn of ships coming to port and would send for women from all over the islands to entertain the men. There would be 7 women to every man. I won't go into details of the perversions I saw and heard about.
Aboard the ship the men would have pornagraphy, and would boast of there immoral achievements. It was during this cruise that I made known to my superiors that I wanted out. They however, were ignorant of the 180 day discharge or lied about it. They gave me the freedom to find it in their books. I could not find it though, and they mocked me continually. When we finished that cruise. I stayed in Japan about a month. It was the following cruise that became utter torture for me.
We left on a cruise that lasted 30 days without stopping at any port. The immorality on the ship became terrible. By the time the month was almost over, the bathroom floors were 75% covered with pornagraphic materials. Many shops (work areas) on the ship began showing pornagraphic movies. On board the ship I worked 12 hour shifts, 7 days a week. I soon spent almost all my time working, sleeping, eating, and the like. The relief I found was listening to the Bible on tape or Christian music while I fell asleep. I soon became ill. I believed that I was dying because of my disobedience to God.
I went to see the ship doctor and he found that I was dehydrated. He said that I needed to drink 8 glasses a water a day. I told him that I had been drinking about 4. He said, that although 4 was not enough for me, that it would not have caused dehydration. He was greatly troubled and astonished that I would be so dehydrated when I had been drinking 4 glasses of water a day. They had to intraveniously feed me almost 2 quarts of water. I went to the ship's ministers and they wouldn't help me at all.
When we finally got to port, I was so relieved. They began to prepare for the next cruise in which they would go to Korea and cross the equator or some such line. At this crossing, they would perform occultic naval rituals upon those whom had never crossed the line. I was determined to do all I could, not to go on that cruise, and be released from the military.
Praise the Almighty! For my superiors had decided to leave me behind for Shore Patrol Duty. I was to be a "policeman" for drunk sailors. Well, it was tolerable and easy work. But I wanted God's will, to get out of the military and go to Texas and go to school.
Something very unusual happened after about 3 weeks, when the ship left without me. To this day I am uncertain whether it was God or not, but at the time, I believed it was. I had this dream.
In the dream I went to the church in Texas, while there, the minister whose tapes I had been listening to; cast 2 demons out of me. (Later I discovered that these 2 demons have been after me all my walk with Christ, Jezebel and a religous demon.) He was dressed in some robe with a medallion around his neck.
I awoke to a knock at my door. I was told by some guy in the dorm, that the chaplain was on the phone for me. I went to the phone and the chaplain said that I had a Red Cross message stating that my grandfather had died. I told him that I would be right there.
I got dressed and wondered about my dream and this messge, and instantly concluded that this would be my ticket home. And once in the U.S. I could get the military officials there to help me get a discharge. I found that the military personnel overseas were very adamant about every recruit staying 2 years at least.
At the chaplain's office, I told him that I would like to take leave to go home for the funeral of my grandfather. He understood and said he would help. I needed to get the signature of all my superiors. Which numbered about 4. I proceeded to get these signatures, and the first 3 agreed. I prayed and thanked God. I went to my highest superior to get his signature. He said that a grandfather was too far removed in family relationships to allow me to take leave.
I walked out of there utterly broken, but out of this I made a decision, at the time I believed it was God. I decided I would leave without permission.
I immediately packed my things and went to the Tokyo airport. I had no problems getting there. At the Airport, I got a ticket to Los Angeles. I did have to lie once in the airport, one woman asked me point blank if I was AWOL (absent without leave). I said no. May God forgive me.
In Los Angeles, I bought a ticket to the nearest city to the Church in Texas. I used my middle name as my first and a variation of my first name for my last. I did this so the authorities would not be able to track me. By the way, I discovered years later that this false name was used in a movie for similar purposes.
I arrived in the city of this church and made contact with the church. They made arrangements for me to stay with some individuals who attended the church until I could get on my feet.
My attendance of the first service in which the minister led, was very interesting. The service was a wedding. The wedding was an African wedding. He wore an African robe and had an African medallion, just like in my dream. Although there was no casting out of demons that I could see, neither in me nor in others.
After 2 weeks, I could see that the land was not open for me. I couldn't find a job. The Jews when leaving Egypt were going to the "promised land", which God opened up for them. It seemed my promised land was not being opened by God. I decided to go back to Wisconsin and find out what it was God wanted me to do.
Once in Wisconsin, I contacted the friends I had made there. I however, kept a low profile, and did not contact my family.
When I told my friends where I was in Texas, they were highly interested. They believed that it was time for them to move and they had a couple of places in mind. It was believed that this was an indication of direction for them. I made an arrangement with them. I would work and hand over my income to them, and they in turn would house and feed me. We would move back to Texas together, and once there they would help me to go to Bible School.
Summer went by quickly, and we earned enough money to move to Texas. The local pastor had a prophetic word for me before we left. He said that there was something I would have to do in Texas that I was unwilling to do at the time. The move went well. Within two weeks, they found a house and van, and the husband of the family had found a job. I however, was still unsuccessful in finding a place in the land.
After two weeks, the elders of the church found that I was "AWOL" from the military and called me in with the husband who had been letting me stay with them. I was told with scripture that I had to turn myself into the authorities. I had to fulfill all righteousness to be a true disciple of the Lord. I agreed quickly upon hearing from the Word of God. I was told that I had a week to prepare. I concluded that it was this that had kept the doors closed to me in the land. So I wanted to get things right as quickly as possible.
I turned myself in to the local recruiter. I had been gone for about 4 months. The military sent me to a base in Texas to get a court martial. On the way there and while there, I was treated and called a traitor. But I abided it all.
While in there, my dad found me. With his military connections he was able to find me. He was disappointed, but thought it was right that I turned myself in. I thought he would be angry but he was not. He visted me for a week or so. He talked with my lawyer, and the lawyer told him that the military would probably put me in prison and throw away the key. However, this was not told to me (until much later). I was told that I would be probably found guilty and the military would slap my hands and let me go. That is, they probably would take all my rank away and give me some punitive discharge or something to this effect.
When the trial came, the judge asked me my plea and story. I told him that I was not guilty because I fled believing that my life was in danger. He asked, if I had any evidence of that. I told him my reasons concerning my faith and that I had also became dehydrated. He was surprised at this and called for my medical records. It was there as I had desribed.
Praise the Almighty King and Judge! Because after a short recess the judge came back and found me not guilty. There is some hidden code or law that protects military personnel from undue judgements if they flea for self preservation. This is hidden, so that mass numbers don't run when danger comes their way. My lawyer was stunned. I however was thankful and praised God mightily!
My lawyer further told me that this case was remarkable and probably historical. In that a case of a christian military personnel against the government. He also said that if the media had known, it would have been national news. However, it was not published or known. My lawyer was an assigned military lawyer.
What happened next was the hand of God. It was His way of saying, "You may be forgiven, but your disobedience and actions bring results based upon spiritual laws."
The military did not let me go. Instead they sent me to Virginia, where I was to board a modern aircraft carrier that was about to go to the Gulf war. I had learned that running away was not the answer. And I knew that God wanted me to stand for Him, before my superiors, refuse to participate in the continuance of my military service, without running, and willing to accept any punishment they would give me for disobeying orders. I accepted that punishment, for disobeying man was lesser punishment than punishment for disobeying God.
Note: Just for the sceptics and the military lovers, and unbalanced patriots out there; I did not make any of these decisions based upon the war, nor for fear of being in it. But only for the reasons stated earlier: fear of God. I however, was concerned that my presence on the ship could cause disaster for the ship or some of it's crew. This I found possible because Jonah caused the ship he was on, when running from God, to be in trouble in a storm, when he was in disobedience to God. One could say that that in itself was patriotic, because I felt concern for those who may receive mishap on the ship because of my disobedience.
When I got to Virginia and found out about my assignment. I had determined on my way to follow God; I went to my supervisor and told him that I refused to board the ship, and wanted out of the Navy. I told him that I would not run and that I had just been found not guilty in a court martial. He was not upset but was surprised. He took me to his supervisor, and all the way up to some high ranking officer. This officer could not believe my story and called the base of my court martial to confirm it. He was astonished to learn the truth. As it happened, he thought those in my professional field were crazy, he had lost 2 others in my field to unusual circumstances. One guy went crazy after his girlfriend left him, then got drunk and carved her name into his skin with a knife. I don't remember the other story if there was one.
They were all baffled with this situation. Here I was, submitting to them, but refusing to participate in any military work that would further my stay in the military. In the end, they used the command of an officer to verbaly command me onto the ship. I refused. This direct command is a legal power military officers have, which if not followed, could be punishable. They decided to drive me to the ship and order me on. I refused. Then they decided to send me to some military hospital to see if I were insane. This hospital was a ways away, on another base. The ship was about to leave the next day. I had to be escorted by another lower ranking officer, not just some enlisted guy, but an officer who was under the commander. He wasn't pleased, because he lost time with his family. I apologized, but he didn't want to hear me. The doctors found me normal.
The ship was soon prepared to leave. Everything was loaded. I was brought to the office of my commander. There he told me everyone was aboard except us and a couple of people with us. He asked me and commanded me to go aboard. It got real intense. He threatened me with desertion during wartime or some such thing. It was here that I remember standing up for God before men, and said to this effect:
"I do not desert. I will not run. But I refuse to be apart of any military operation that continues my military service."
He then said something like: I could be punished with death or imprisoned with only bread and water.
Then I replied, "I am willing to be punished for any supposed offense, real or not, because I disobeyed God for coming into the military, and must now leave it, but legaly, without running. I am ready to receive a punitive discharge, loss of rank, imprisonment, rations of bread or water, or even death; to obey my God and take that which I deserve for disobeying Him as my consequence."
I think he asked, "Do you do this because you hate me?"
I suppose he was in trouble himself because of my actions, or was made to look bad, but I responded, "Sir, I love you, and will pray for you, if you will allow I will hug you." I got up as to hug him. He got angry then, told me to be quiet. I became filled with sadness for him and began to weep. I repeated my love and God's love for him. He then ordered me into silence.
This guy was absolutely angry. He ordered me stay in his office, and they all left to board the ship.
I must have been there 30 minutes to 90 minutes or so waiting. My senses were so keyed up I am uncertain how long it was. I waited alone, in an office, in hanger, that was empty of man or equipment. Finally some SP's came (security patrol). I don't know if they were sent or if they were doing their rounds when they found me. They took me to I what I think was Base Operations. Where the real Big Boys were. There I waited, until some officers called me into their office. These guys were very high ranking dudes. They demanded to know my story and I told them. The highest officer said that they would load me on a helicopter and fly me onto the ship, because the ship had already left. He said that they would send a helicopter just because of me. That I could not get out of going to war. He was quite upset, and wanted to force me on. I told them that I had been ordered aboard several times, and that if they wanted to they could manually carry me aboard when I would refuse to board or walk on or off the helicopter. They were quiet after that and I think they researched if they could do such a thing, and perhaps found out that they were not allowed to that. The high ranking officer stormed off.
While he was gone another high officer, but less rank, questioned me kindly about my reasons extensively, I answered him and he listened patiently. I also told him that I thought it possible that the military could be the beast of the sea in the book of Revelations (this was just a thought at the time, and never became a belief of mine). He asked me if I truly believed such a thing, I told him I was uncertain, but told him of all the sin I had seen in the military at sea.
In the end they could't or did't do anything to send me onto the ship or to the Gulf. I got sent to the barracks where the enlisted guys waited to leave the military and also where the less offensive law breakers waited for court martial or Judgement by the highest ranking officer in the command.
This Judgement was a procedure similar to courtmartial. It's hard to describe, it's less official as a Court-martial but yet still official, it was less heavy, but sometimes the punishments were harsher. There were no lawyers, no witnesses, it was with the accused with the Officer in Charge. He would question the accused and judge by himself. This procedure was, I believe, offered to many but most offenders did not have to take a it if they did not want, they could get a Court-Martial instead. A Court-martial is known to be more just, because the judge is not in direct line of the chain of command with the accused, therefore is not usually or supposed to be biased, yet a court-martial can give harsher punishments, like prison or death I suppose. Where as a the other is performed most often by an officer in the direct chain of command of the accused and could be partial or involved in the case of the accused. Therefore, these judgements are sometimes known to give out the harder punishments available to their authority, but which do not include prison or death, but can include bread and water rationings in the brig (like jail, rather than prison), loss of pay or rank, punitive discharges, and so on.
It this judgement that was offered to me and I accepted it. While waiting for it, I was put in the same kind of barracks I was in at my Court Martial. I had to be escorted everywhere, I had to stay in my barracks when not doing duties which were assigned or doing errands like shopping, hair cuts and so on. There were no guards with guns or sticks, there were no bars, it was a detention type area where there were many rules, but were not enforced by gun point, bars or such. There were just escorts and monitors.
The day came of my Judgement. He was polite, to the point, and professional. I gave my story, he asked questions, one of which was if I was a christian. He asked about my feelings about the war, and I told him war had nothing to do with my decisions or actions. His judgement was: loss of one rank, 30 days in detention with extra duties, and an Other than Honorable Discharge. That was a neutral discharge, where no benefits are given but neither are their any penalties with your release. I found out later, the officer was a christian.
I did my 30 day's detention and was soon released from the military.
I moved to Texas, to the church where God told me to go to Bible school. I found a job and a place to rent very quickly. The land had opened for me.
I went to school for 2 years there. I enjoyed it tremendously. During the school year I was at church about 5 times a week. I worked full time while schooling as well.
I loved the church very much, never did I think it perfect, for I believe that if you find a perfect church Jesus will come and rapture it. But to this day it was the most Biblical church I have ever seen, heard of, or experienced in any way. Now to those who would warn or accuse me of deserting them or judging them; remember this: I love them, and believe that their church is the MOST Biblical I ever seen, and that God called me there for school, not to live there.
One teaching they have to get people to stay, teaches to become "planted" in the land. Many folks have gone there for school and left, this was their way to try and keep some, or perhaps they truly believed every student belonged there to stay. But for whatever reason they had for the teaching, they caught me, and I disobeyed God again. I decided to plant myself there. I had become a man pleaser yet one more time. It was sin. God told me in Wisconsin to go there for school, he told me on the mountain in Colorado to live in a city in Wisconsin. Despite this sin, I learned alot there and gained a good reputation and respect from the people and the elders. Most importantly, I learned much of God's ways and the gifts He had given me, and a beginning of how to use them. I learned a great many of Biblical Doctrines and theologies, most of which are correct or almost correct. To this day I agree with much of what they taught.
We must remember no man nor local church can express the fullness of God or His complete work on the Earth. Each man or church has a calling, each call has its own focus. If a person wears somone else's glasses it would be like a church taking another church's vision or call. On the periphial of each vision is blurred, not in God's vision He is perfect, but in ours, for the Bible tells us we see darkly. Therefore, I see things differently than that church did. God is vast, His ways are sure ways, and indeed God is limited to His own word, but He is well able to manifest and work in ways beyond our own scope.
It took God to get me out of there, I stayed 4 years. This is how I left:
After about 3 years there, I began "dating" a young lady from the church. The church didn't "date" as the world does, we kept it pure and didn't defile our selves. In fact, it started as friendship. But I developed a desire to marry her. I asked her and she declined. Months later, after we had stopped seeing each other, we began our friendship again. Our conversation turned towards why I had asked her to marry me, and why I thought it may have been God's will. After a month or so, she decided that she would marry me.
The problem began here. The church would not marry anyone unless there was a prophecy or a word from God in the church or to one of the elders, stating that the marriage was from God. It had to be VERY dynamic. And so, there are few marriages there. And so they would not marry us. They believed it was not of God, and that I was much more mature spiritually than her.
Here is where the fire began to test me. Sin and righteousness became more separated in my life. I became more carnal with her, although I did NOT commit fornication with her, though she asked me to. I became affectionate and attached emotionally. Her mother, whom I went to school with at the church, told me to marry her at another church. This is where God's righteousness prevailed in me; I said, "I will marry her God's way with the elders permission, or we won't marry."
This caused me to meet with the elders often, I wanted dearly to please them and God. What happened then was these 2 began to separate. I began to see that God's will or way was not the elders way or will in my life. What they finally came to say was, "We know it's not God's will for you to marry. We also know that you are missing God somewhere in your life and we dont know where."
This angered me, I was torn whether or not if it was God's will, but was upset that they wouldn't tell me where I was missing God. Because I wasn't sure of God's will in this I didn't marry her, and I had begun to lose her. She stopped seeing me regularly, we were forbidden by the church to see each other. At first I obeyed this, but as she turned away, I disobeyed and would go see her, but she became disinterested.
I became emotional, and in losing control in my emotions I sinned. But through this God was working in me His will. For indeed I had missed God, he wanted me in Wisconsin. Though they would never say it, nor did I acknowledge it till this incident matured.
Several spiritual things happened during this time. One was this dream:
I dreamed I was on a train. I was a young teenager (about 14) riding in a train car with other teen boys. They were from the church. One teen boy was the minister who had started the church and in the dream he was a couple years older than me. We had woken up and each used the bathroom to get ready. For some reason I couldn't get my hair in any order and I took a long time in the bathroom. When I was done, everyone had gone for breakfast. The dining car was also a bank. The food was served buffet style in the kitchen car. So I went to the kitchen and grabbed a plate and was about to serve myself, when all of a sudden I began to slip. As I slipped the women in the kitchen began grabbing me and holding me up, one teen girl grabbed me sexually as this occured. While this was happening I kept filling my plate and slipping on the floor. Finally I made it into the dining room / bank. There, the minister sat at a table with others and he said to me, "Why were you touching my wife?" And I said, "I didn't touch her, she touched me." He refused to believe me, I got angry and upturned the breakfast table on him.
The interpretation: hair represents covering, my covering was not in order. The church government was my covering instead of Jesus. This caused me to be late in my preparations for God's feeding and preparing me. The Kitchen represents the church with the women, the reference to the teen girl being the ministers wife shows that the church is Christ's wife, not the minister's wife. It is in the church where you get your spiritual food. It was there where you get support when you fall. And it was there in my fall, that the some in the church misused me. The dining room was a bank, because the pasture of God is a place of investment. God paid a price for us, and we must invest our lives to Him. It was in the pasture where the authority wrongly accused me.
During this time, the church had a REALLY big change. The minister who had started the church had found some older men of God, and he was submitting to them and his personal ministry to them. This was for him, not the church, they were not over the church in any way. Anyways, it was 1 older man in particular and 2 others that ministered with them. They did minister to our church but they were not involved in the church government.
The church had the 3 men come minister to the congregation and they were to give a word from God to each person in the church privately.
This is the word that was given to me from one of those men:
God see's you and your situation. He is happy with you. And He says that you are NOT squandering YOUR inheritance. And He says that He will keep your relationships.
The elders were beginning at this time to talk about my situation in front of the church and with certain groups within the church. I was being condemned as being in sin with this girl or rebellion against them.
The night that I got that word from God through that man I had another dream:
In the dream, a young and short mafia guy came to me. He started threatening me, saying that the mafia was going to have me killed, and he might be the one to do it. He was small but I could sense fear attempting to enter me from his power. In the dream I knew that this was a demon. I grabbed him and swung him around and said "I am not afraid of you, they can't kill me and neither can you, I command you to leave me in Jesus name."
I woke up instantly and sensed the same exact fear trying to permeate my soul in my room. I saw that there was a 3 dimensional black object next to my bed about 3 feet tall. I knew it was a demon, and I took the same stance. I said, "I command you to leave in Jesus name." The demon walked through the wall under my Air Conditioner and left the apartment. I prayed in tongues and in English for awhile after that.
It was shortly after this, a couple weeks or so, that the Lord told me that he would or had removed the church's authority from me. It was only 2 days after that he told me to leave and go to Wisconsin.
My dad came and got me. Despite how I left, I loved the elders, and tried to reconcile with them several times, even after I left. I loved that church and still do. They are an awesome group of Godly people. The greatest teachings and Bible church I have ever seen. Those who knew me in Wisconsin, friends and family, got angry at the church when I told them what I went though, but were even more surprised when I defended the church. One thing I learned from them and it's in the Bible, is that you don't touch God's annointed. I will not condemn the church or the ministers, in fact I highly respect and honor them. Much of the teachings on my website are from them or are inspired from them.
Well, I am still in the city that God has called me to, I have a family now. Life is great, and I pray that Jesus stays Lord in my life.
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