Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it
was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end! Amen.
First and foremost, I need to thank my Lord. Few people have a story like
this, and in every possible way I feel unworthy. Truly, the journey has been
extraordinarily humbling to this pride-filled man.

-

I would like to deliver a tremendous thanks my prolific illustrator,
Mr. Devon Sessoms! God placed us together for this project, and it’s
a great story worth sharing. On a typical day in my university’s student
center, a group of students sitting about ten yards behind me were engaged
in a lively spiritual discussion. Unable to study, I remained distracted by
the captivating interaction of soul-searching peers. Finally, I cultivated the
courage to introduce myself, and shared some spiritual insights with the
curious listeners. As an Evangelical Christian, I loved to share my faith
with others! Our dialogue was pleasant and fruitful. This was also the first
time I met Devon. He had just started to reflect on issues of faith. I am not
sure he was even a Christian at the time. Unfortunately, months had past,
and we did not see or talk to one another.

During the “upper room” experience (see chapter nine), the Holy
Spirit was poured. Two dear friends participated in this glorious encounter
with the Holy Spirit. Before we left, one of them was compelled to note
something peculiar. He told me his clock read 11:11pm, and for some reason
he felt this was significant. This was the first time I told him about the
“number combinations” (see chapter three). He found these occurrences
interesting, though we only discussed the topic briefly. Several weeks
passed; little did I know my friend and Devon were employed at the same
organization helping disadvantaged youths. Devon was drawn to my friend
as a spiritual advisor, confiding in his shrewd discernment and extensive
Biblical knowledge. Devon shared a reoccurring event with my friend.
Devon was regularly waking up at 3:33am, exactly like I had experienced
(see chapter three)! My friend remembered what I shared with him in “the
upper room,” and told Devon he should speak to me.

When I heard the story, and discovered Devon was seeing 3:33am
as I had, it seemed clear this was something special. At this point, I remained
skeptical the number combinations were from God. Still, I was
very intrigued. From this point on, I saw Devon periodically in different
places on campus. Our conversations were very informal, but we did discuss
seeing “the numbers.” Right around this time, I just started writing
my testimony.

-

Much later, I decided this collection of stories would make an interesting
book. One day, Devon said, “I think God wants us to do a project together.”
I had no idea what he was talking about and basically ignored him. On
another occasion, he said the same thing, but I didn’t take the idea seriously.
Nothing immediately came to mind. Honestly, I should have recognized
it sooner. God wanted Devon to do illustrations for my book! Devon
had no idea I was working on such a project. When I told him, he was
enthusiastic about the proposition. Through the grace of God, that’s how
we came together!

I would like to bestow a titanic thanks to my scrupulous editor,
Miss Julieanne Dennis! For several months I didn’t have anyone to edit
my book. Although I had a sense that God would provide, I started to lose
faith. In the back of my mind, I sensed my editor would be a Catholic
female (I had no idea why). I asked a Catholic female friend if she would
be willing to help me edit my book. She laughed, and told me she was the
wrong person for the job.

A couple weeks had passed. Honestly, I wasn’t looking for anyone
to edit my book. I just said a simple prayer. “Lord, if it’s Your will, it
will happen. Please provide someone.” About three days after this prayer,
I participated in a faith-sharing event for Catholic adults. During the end
of the event, the Lord spoke to me. He told me to ask a complete stranger
if she would be willing to edit my book. I didn’t know this girl from Eve!
The Lord gave me additional hints that I was to ask her, so I proceeded
reluctantly, thinking I should start a friendship before asking her this enormous
favor. When I finally got her attention, she blurted, “You know, I
would really love to hear your testimony.” She had no idea I was about
to ask her to edit my testimony! Through the grace of God, that’s how we
came together!

I would like to launch a gargantuan thanks to my print-master extraordinaire,
Mr. Fred Fortney. I met Fred a couple years ago, while he was
evangelizing from a Catholic apologetics booth at a local fair. At the time,
I was hoping to find someone to edit my book. After learning more about
his vision, I shared my ideas with him. He gave me his phone number and
encouraged me to call him. He is very influential locally for printing, producing,
and distributing Catholic literature. I am eternally grateful for his
willingness and generosity to support me with this project.

Thank you to everyone for all your prayers, encouragement, and
words of wisdom through this enormous undertaking!
Please spread the word.

IS UNWRITTEN…

-

COME. I WAIT FOR YOU…
–GOD

My journey to Christ was a difficult one, full of fears and uncertainties.
As I took that step, embracing Him as Lord of my life, there was
an indescribable peace and assurance of His love for me. Hours of study,
deep reflection and intense prayer steered my decision. The good Lord
chose to use miraculous events to reveal His heart for my life. The same
can be said for my journey to the Catholic Church. The truth is there remains
a giant part of me that doesn’t want to be a Catholic Christian. It’s
hard. Many days I would rather be chasing worldly success, making lots
of money, and filling my weekends with wild midnight revelry with young
adults my age. My love for God and fear of hell keeps me in line. It’s entirely
by grace I’m saved (and being saved).

I suspect many people will react very differently to this project.
My story is intended for anyone willing to read it. Clearly that encompasses
a diverse cross-section of the population. For many, this will be a confirmation
of their love for God and how He works in glorious and mysterious
ways. Many will fearlessly cling to their prejudice against the supernatural
and dismiss the events as coincidental or perhaps mere sophistry. Many
may be more open to spiritual realities, but will stop short of making Jesus
Lord of their life. Others will deeply consider these questions, turn from
their sin and seek to have an intimate, life-transforming relationship with
the Living God. My sincere prayer is that some consider God’s love and
mercy through Christ. There is no way a former atheistic, religion-hating,
hell-raiser would write this unless something spectacular illuminated his
hardened heart, and touched every crevice of his life. Truly, my intentions
are nothing but genuine.

We live in scary and confusing times. Millions of fanatical Muslims
would like to convert the world to their perverted view of Islam
through violent means. Any day we could be on the brink of nuclear war.
Leadership both here and abroad maintain duplicitous lives; clearly there
are many hypocrites and liars. Thousands of voices clamor to convince
the masses they own the sole voice of reason. Others promulgate that all
truth is relative, or absolute truth cannot be known. Western civilization
continues to lose its transcendent identity, and many modern Christians
adopt a pseudo-radical faith in favor of worldly gain. Ideas most certainly
have consequences. This truth is absolute.

-

When the leading dogma of the day is relativism, and a redefined,
distorted view of tolerance is esteemed as the pinnacle of contemporary
thought, what becomes the fate of our nation? What becomes the essential
value of each individual? We are not here by accident. We are here for a
specific reason.

Am I being too harsh or forceful? Based on my experiences is it
unreasonable for me to promulgate these beliefs? Truly, I am far from having
all the answers to mankind’s countless woes. Nor is it my goal to
expound on and offer brilliant solutions to all the evils of modern civilization.
Rather, my goal is to share a simple message. God made us to know
Him, to love Him, to serve Him in this world, that we might be happy
with Him for eternity in heaven. “In times past, God spoke in partial and
various ways to our ancestors through the prophets; in these last days, He
spoke to us through a Son, whom He made heir of all things and through
whom He created the universe, who is the refulgence of His glory, the
very imprint of His being, and who sustains all things by His mighty word.
When He had accomplished purification from sins, He took his seat at the
right hand of the Majesty on high.” (Hebrews 1:1-3)

We are all in unique places in life. I realize sudden or drastic
changes do not always come easy. As a Catholic Christian, I strongly encourage
all to investigate the Catholic faith. This may require courage and
perseverance on your part. Please consider going through R.C.I.A (Rite
of Christian Initiation for Adults), even if solely for educational purposes.
Indeed, there are major theological differences between Christians. Since
the Protestant Reformation, few even agree on the “essentials.” However,
any step toward the heart of Jesus Christ is a great step to take! Nearly all
Christians agree that it’s important to trust in Jesus as your personal Savior,
repent of your sins, get baptized, and to continue to follow the Lord
with a strong community of believers. For that reason, I encourage all to
attend a Bible-believing church that you might grow in God’s grace. You
may want to try visiting several churches before making any decisions.
Educating yourself may require a little time. Pray about it! I just hope they
aren’t openly anti-Catholic, because many are!

Merge onto the narrow road millions thought they would never
travel. Walking with the Lord is an adventure unlike any other! Think
about it. Where are you traveling and why? Is your highest hope found
ultimately in this fallen existence? If the consummation of all our desires
can only be found in this life, we can be assured our gratifications are ultimately
fleeting. The hope found in Christ is one of absolute fulfillment for
all eternity. What hope could possibly compare? Furthermore, we believe
all those who reject God go to a place of eternal torment called hell. Does
it not seem reasonable to take all these issues very seriously, even if you
have many doubts? My dear friends, please do not die outside of God’s
friendship. It doesn’t matter where you are or what you have been through.
The Lord wants to save you from your sins and make you His child for all
eternity.

-

May the Lord grant you His mercy and His grace. May the
Lord grant you His light and His peace. For I humbly pray
these things in the name that’s above every name, the Lord
Jesus Christ. Amen.

On March 15, 1981, I was baptized Roman Catholic as an infant.
This was principally accomplished at the request of my grandparents. As
you hopefully gathered by now, my conversion from a cantankerous religion-
hater to an Evangelical Protestant was quite dramatic. In the deepest
recesses of my heart resides monumental gratitude towards Protestant
Christians for effectively leading me to a deep relationship with Jesus
Christ, Savior of all mankind. Their radical love for the Lord and emphasis
on having a personal relationship with Him is something to be embraced!
Through their approach in teaching and worship, my faith grew incalculably,
leading me to great intimacy with the Lord. For many, this chapter
may be utterly perplexing, and may be outright dismissed. For others, it
may prove intriguing, and may lead some to do more research. For others,
it may be a confirmation of how God has made your path straight.
However you interpret this chapter, you will agree some fairly incredible
events transpired.Without further ado, I am pleased to present my journey
to the Catholic Church.

As a child, I went to Catholic Mass, maybe a total of thirty to
forty services. Most of the time, church was boring; it did little to deepen
my desire to know God. Like many at that age, the closest thing I had
to worship consisted of mindless hours of video game marathons. Mass
rarely captured my attention; the worship and monotonous rituals of the
Catholic Mass did not speak to my heart, or engage my mind. This was
just my personal experience at that young age. Even so, I still have a couple
memories in the church I frequented with extended relatives. In the
middle of the Mass, probably when the priest was turning the wine into
blood, I peacefully gazed at the high ceiling through a well-positioned
skylight. The sun’s warm rays illuminated the room of worshippers. With
tender whispers, I told God I believed in Him. I imagined Him giving me a
sign of acknowledgement, or some kind of miracle to prove He heard me.
Another time, I recall wondering what the life of a priest must be like
as they disappeared behind a large shiny gate at the end of Mass. Other
than a few occasions of being drawn to the Lord and whispering a few
prayers, my faith never flowered. Rather, it came to a screeching halt as my
cynicism escalated.Without answers to plaguing questions, my worldview
was inevitably shaped. This resulted in skepticism in all authority and
in life itself. Therefore, reality became about the moment, and a haphazard
existence ensued nearly destroying me in the process. However, my
justification for living on the edge had far more to do with carnal pleasures
than succumbing to a philosophical notion which rendered life as meaningless.

Praise to the Merciful One for calling me back to Himself! Approximately
one year after embracing Christ as Lord, I read a biography
on the life of one of Catholic history’s most famous figures, Saint Padre
Pio. The book was very intriguing, particularly to those interested in supernatural
topics. To that point, I never read about a man with such humility,
sacrifice, and commitment. The only people that rivaled his dedication
were perhaps the apostles, and only a handful of Saints in the history
books. Even though I thoughtlessly rejected the Catholic faith, I found
this man’s life phenomenal. The miracles surrounding his life captured my
imagination, pierced my soul, and drew me closer to the heart of Christ.
I finished the incredible biography on St. Padre Pio on Saturday evening.
On Sunday morning I traveled to an “Assemblies of God” church with a
friend and saw a large sign that read “The National Center for Padre Pio.”
On Saturday night, Saint Pio was all I could think about. On my way to
church the following day, I came face to face with his National Center! I
was blown away! After the church service, I ventured to the center for a
quick gander. The architecture was beautiful; however, I was the only soul
there. I sauntered around the scenic perimeter, in a peace-filled, yet dubious
resistance, questioning whether there was something demonic about
the beautiful statues on the premises. Under a partly enclosed structure
adjacent to the building, dozens of candles were lit, signifying petitions to
the Almighty. Most of these petitions were likely through the intercession
of the Saints in heaven. With great reluctance, I said a prayer to St. Pio,
asking him to pray to the Lord for me. With twice as much insistence, I
begged God to pardon me if I was wrong for asking St. Pio of his prayers.
(Most Protestants reject the idea that our brothers and sisters in heaven can
pray for us before God’s throne.) Before I departed, I called my step-father
on his cell phone to let him know the amazing “coincidence.” He knew
I just finished the book the night before, and was nearly as stunned as I
was.

As an Evangelical, I did not think highly of the Catholic faith.
However, I did believe some Catholics were genuine Christians, albeit
gravely misguided ones. The truth is I loved being an Evangelical! Discovering
the Lord Jesus made me a new man. Evangelical brothers and
sisters in Christ profoundly encouraged me. Their love for the Bible, heart
for worship, and desire to seek God’s will powerfully fostered in me an
intense desire to become the best Christian I could. The message was
simple. In a very real way, that was one of its strengths. The emphasis
was on a personal relationship with the Lord. Although theological issues
didn’t bother me initially, after some time I recognized the potential
implications in having theological disunity. Moreover, what did disunity
say about God’s people, and God’s ability to keep His people together?
Clearly, ideas had consequences. Sadly, it was obvious that even God-fearing
and zealous Evangelical and Fundamentalist Christians were horribly
fractured. There were thousands of denominations, many of them at odds
over significant issues of faith. Some issues were less significant, however,
and many things were tolerable. I could not deny the life, the love, and the
good fruits in Evangelical circles. Nonetheless, over the course of four
years, my peace deteriorated, and I was only able to attain wishy-washy
(and contradictory) answers to my sincere Biblical inquires.

A couple years had passed, and I had not given serious thought
about the Catholic faith. Several Evangelical friends were highly suspicious
of Catholics. They considered their dogmas anti-biblical and labeled
some of the supernatural phenomena within the Catholic faith as having
demonic origin. Many individuals have radical misunderstandings about
the Catholic faith. Understandably, there are a number of reasons for this.
Unfortunately, one of them is a lack of knowledge on behalf of Catholics
regarding the true theological teachings of the Catholic Church. As such,
no proper defense can be given when one is questioned. During my time as
an Evangelical, I occasionally met Catholics who I perceived to be “born
again.” In other words, these Catholics zealously loved our Lord Jesus!
The light of Christ was abundantly with them, but because I was totally
convinced of the righteousness of my perspective, my heart was very hardened
towards them. Along with my friends, I fanatically believed Catholics
had many anti-biblical doctrines. In my mind, a Spirit-filled Catholic
was just a fluke, maybe one in a thousand.

As a senior in college, my heart gradually softened toward Catholicism.
At the time, and in subsequent months, I felt called to bring
greater reconciliation to God’s people, the Body of Christ. It became
evident many Protestants disagreed on what I considered should be “essential”
doctrines. The greatest divide in all of Christendom was between
Catholics and Protestants, and this increasingly bothered me. During the
beginning of my final semester I had a dream where an allusive woman,
radiant, beautiful, and all loving, was trying to draw me to herself. The
dream greatly intrigued me and brought me tranquility. However, I didn’t
know who the loving woman was. The thought it could be the Blessed Virgin
Mary crossed my mind. This idea bothered me so much that I couldn’t
accept it as a possibility. Every time I envisioned the cherished dream, my
mind could not help to think of the twelfth chapter of Revelation in the
Bible. Here it talks about “a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon
under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars.” To relate my
dream with this scripture verse would convey a Catholic belief. As a radical
Evangelical Christian, the idea was totally unacceptable! Even though
I couldn’t get the experience out of my mind, I deliberately rejected it
because I feared being deceived.

Upon graduation, I moved into a small efficiency apartment. (I
called it “the inefficiency.”) The closest church to my apartment was St.
Joseph’s Catholic Church, less than a five minute walk. After attending
a semi-Fundamentalist church and a Catholic church simultaneously, my
interest in Catholicism slowly deepened. Interestingly, I considered doing
long-term overseas missionary work with this well-established Protestant
denomination. One evening, I had dinner with the church’s assistant pastor
to discuss the opportunity.We had a wonderful time sharing stories, hopes
and dreams, enjoying our shared enthusiasm for the faith. This continued
until I expressed a slight interest in the Catholic faith. By that time, I had
become slightly familiar with Catholic apologetics, meaning I could give a
Biblical defense of the Catholic faith. Here I was, a candidate to become a
missionary for a Protestant denomination, defending some of the doctrines
of the Catholic faith. What a ridiculous state of affairs! The conversation
didn’t get very far. What surprised me most was what appeared to be hostility
on his part as he shared all these bizarre stories of bad priests he
either encountered or heard of. I don’t remember all the stories, but I do
remember thinking his perception of the Catholic faith was a perversion of
what I had been researching. Looking back, I just think he was mistaken
and ignorant of what Catholics truly believe. He did seem to be a genuine
and good man, honestly searching God’s heart.

Shortly after this episode, the grand notion of converting to the
Catholic faith took root. This may have been the most agonizing time in
my spiritual journey, and was one of the hardest times in my life. The
deepest prayers my soul ever groaned were during this phase. I trusted
my Heavenly Father would steer me down the right path, even though I
wanted to be wrong about the Catholic faith. Intellectually, I was trying to
be open to both sides. Based on extensive research it appeared that either
Catholics were lying about their own doctrines, or most Protestant apolo-
gists misrepresented the Catholic perspective. In all fairness, not all Protestant
apologists did this. Biblically speaking, the Catholic faith simply
made more theological sense in my prayerful opinion, especially concerning
issues of justification. It now seemed countless Catholic beliefs had
strong Biblical support. Should this be a surprise though? This is not a
surprise to the hundreds of Protestant ministers and pastors who converted
to the Catholic faith within the last few years. Whether they were Fundamentalist,
Evangelical, Pentecostal, or some “main-line” denomination,
Protestant pastors and ministers have been coming to the Catholic faith in
droves!

The first time I met the parish priest of St. Joseph, I felt the Spirit
of the Lord in a very gentle and consoling way as I conversed with this
humble man of God. Although I did not have all the answers, my expedition
towards “Rome” ensued as I enrolled in the R.C.I.A (Rite of Christian
Initiation for Adults) program. I looked forward to R.C.I.A. every week.
I loved sharing my insights to the Catholic faith; nevertheless, I probably
caused a few headaches after asking several daunting questions. My entrance
into the Church swiftly approached with fellow catechumens and
candidates. A few people were going to receive baptism for the first time.
Individuals who were already properly baptized in a “faith tradition” (any
Christian church) were required to participate in the Sacrament of Reconciliation
(Confession) before uniting with the Catholic fold. Essentially,
I was being reunited with the church at this point, because I had already
been baptized Catholic as an infant. The parish priest made himself available
for Confession on an odd day of the week, because it happened to fit
my busy schedule. Needless to say, I had a lot to confess, and although I
already had a deep sense of forgiveness from the Lord, the healing I felt
through the sacrament brought further restoration and grace to my soul.
What was especially awesome was it happened on March 15, 2005, exactly
twenty-four years after my baptism (I was baptized on March 15, 1981).
It wasn’t until several weeks after the sacrament I discovered this! This
incredible realization brought great reassurance and helped me recognize
that the good Lord clearly planned this “conversion within a conversion”
all along.

The R.C.I.A. program was coming to a close. We were making
preparations to be formally received into the Church at the Easter Vigil.
During the ceremony, the priest confirms all the candidates and catechumens.
The Sacrament of Confirmation is essentially when the priest prays
for a strengthening of the Holy Spirit on the individual’s life. We all had
to pick a confirmation name, which is usually the name of a Catholic Saint.
Long before I made this decision, the Holy Spirit brought to my heart the
confirmation name Jerome. During one of the R.C.I.A. classes, I borrowed
a book on confirmation names. As I prayed that God would choose a name
for me, the Holy Spirit again told me again to pick the name Jerome. After
looking in the index for Jerome, it became evident there were several
Jerome’s to select from. The Holy Spirit said to “choose the Jerome on
page 33.” I did, not knowing who it was. My confirmation name became
Jerome Emiliani, the patron Saint of orphans. Amazingly, his feast day
on the liturgical calendar is February 8th, my birthday! Not only that, my
mother almost named me Emil which is remarkably close to Emiliani. She
opted (thanks to my grandmother) for Jonathon instead, which means “gift
of God.”

I remember my grandmother sharing a moving story about me.
Before I was born, my aunt told my grandmother that God may have special
plans for my life. After reflecting on the past and thinking about the
future, it’s very humbling. Perhaps God does have very special plans. My
aunt’s words, unknown to her, were prophetic. The truth is my unwed
mother could have easily aborted me. There were serious financial difficulties,
my father was not supportive at the onset, and the pregnancy came
as an unpleasant surprise. Fortunately, my mother decided to do the right
thing and have courage in spite of her hardships. Every step of becoming
Catholic has had its challenges, but the fingerprints of my Heavenly Father
could not have been clearer. Was I was born to be Catholic, ordained in
some mysterious fashion? This is an enigmatic question I cannot fully answer.
However, I do believe Jesus gently pulled me to this place of peace,
as I became willing and ready.

Three days before my entrance into the Catholic faith I started a
two and a half day fast, consuming nothing but juice and water.Afew family
members attended the Mass, making the grand ceremony even more
memorable. This was the first time I received the Holy Eucharist: the body,
blood, soul, and divinity of the Lord Jesus Christ. How precious this moment
was! I have been active in the charismatic movement, and in many
different churches with followers of great fervency. Without question, no
other type of worship compares to the Mass, because Jesus is truly present
in the Holy Eucharist! That being said, I love Catholic Charismatic
Masses. As an Evangelical, my dedication was intense. As a new Catholic,
I immediately experienced tender, but powerful graces, leading to rapid
sanctity with relative ease. This of course required faith and a “yes” at-
titude. Do not misunderstand me. The Lord still has a marvelous work to
do in my wretched soul; I am terribly far from perfect as He calls all His
children to be. Amazing grace unquestionably saved me, but my “conversion
within a conversion” will not cease until I am perfectly united to the
Lord in my eternal home.

On Easter morning, I had another dream that left me in great awe.
It involved my mother’s friend, whose spirituality is akin to nature worship,
though she may not characterize it in this manner. The dream was
perfect for the event which Easter commemorates – the resurrection of
Jesus Christ. In the dream, my mother’s friend was in a coma, but the
coma itself was symbolic. The coma represented the spiritual state she
was in. She was blind to the reality of her false worship, and to the reality
of heaven and hell. In the dream, I asked God if she would live or die. In
other words, was she going to enter into eternal life or eternal death.

There was a giant metal gate, and surrounding the gate was total
blackness, representing the absence of God. The gate had a giant pad lock
on it. In the pad lock was a key ready to be turned. I asked God to have the
key fall to the ground if she was going to die. I was struck with acute pain
as the key plummeted to the dark ground. All I remember was hysterically
crying and sobbing because she passed into eternal condemnation. The
gate represented the door to heaven. In the dream she rejected the key of
salvation through the Lord Jesus Christ.

Immediately after this, I woke up clear-headed and slightly emotional.
I knew the dream was a revelation (though not a new one). Jesus
rose from the dead that we too may share of His glories in His Kingdom
of love. As I made my way to the bathroom, next to the toilet was a “Dirt
Devil” vacuum cleaner. The Holy Spirit placed a thought in my mind. He
reminded me that Jesus was responsible for cleaning the dirt the devil
caused. I grinned and chuckled at how God speaks to us in unique ways.
Jesus Christ, through His life, death, and resurrection, has purchased for us
the rewards of eternal life. The dream was on Easter morning, just before
the “sunrise service” at a Lutheran church. This made it even more symbolic
and significant. His resurrection was the ultimate “Son rise service,”
enabling us to rise with Him if we continue to abide in His love. This key
is a gift for all to turn.

Since the onset of my spiritual pursuit, I have had several dreams
that seemed to be inspired by God. Despite so many interventions, there
were still plaguing questions in the midst of my blossoming faith. I frequently
based my spiritual well-being on how I felt emotionally. Many
righteous men in the Bible were acquainted with grief and suffering. Often
their pain had nothing to do with their relationship with the Creator.
However, sometimes it did. When I felt any hint of depression, I started
to question God’s goodness. This led me to cast doubt on whether Jesus
was truly the only way. One of the hardest things for me to accept was
that Jesus was the only way to know God as Father. The following dream
was a tremendous confirmation in embracing the exclusive claims of the
Christian message.

In this fantastic and mystical dream, I was a “cultural Christian.”
In other words, I had a Christian upbringing, but was not a true follower
of Jesus Christ. The dream started out in a church school. I was a student,
maybe fifteen years of age. I was a rabble-rouser and misfit. One dismal
day, I was hanging out with peers on school grounds. In the distance I saw
three Middle Eastern boys, about my age. They were “cultural Muslims,”
just as I was a “cultural Christian.” I deviously sought their attention and
asked them to hang out with us. Trying to impress my friends, I picked a
fight with them. Without warning, I gave them a worse beating than Mike
Tyson could in his prime. They didn’t have a chance even though they
outnumbered me three to one. After the confrontation, my head was held
high. Pretentious and plump full of pride, I exultantly marched down the
broad road haughtily sealed with the delusion of invincibility. Shortly after
the clash, the three boys furiously pursued me on foot. I quickly hid from
them; however, they ravenously craved vengeance, having no intention of
turning the other cheek. They quickly spotted me as they pursued me by
car. To evade them I sprinted into a city with an eerie numinous presence;
the city was segregated into various world religions. There was a section
for Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, and even secularism.

I frantically scuttled toward the Buddhist section of the city. After
passing through a damp alley I entered a dimly lit corridor that had several
stone faces protruding from its ancient walls. The alcove was perfectly
quiet, had the faintest glimmer of red light, and was essentially the lower
level of the Buddhist section. As chilling as it appeared, immeasurably more
terrifying were my pursuers.

I hastily ascended to the upper level, clawing the protruding stone
figures to pull myself up. The top was a spectacular and intricate maze
of ladders, stairways, and buildings; the area was bright and the colors
were radiant and beautiful. Almost the same time I breached the upper
level, hundreds of Muslim children spotted “the evil Christian.” The three
people I thrashed to a bloody mess invited their friends to turn me into
lunch meat.

The chase was long and exhausting, though much of the time I
maintained a safe distance. As I dashed through the Buddhist maze, there
was a trial of lust. A prostitute brought me temptation, and without getting
graphic, I failed the test. From there, I shamefully resumed the search for
sanctuary from my foes.

As beautiful as this realm was, it seemed to lead nowhere.Without
question, my dream was more vivid in detail and graceful in movement
than any other dream I ever had in my life! In most of my dreams that
require track and field feet, it seemed the maximum speed I could run was
about five miles an hour. Not in this dream! I had agility like Spider Man
minus the web tactics. I was also able to look upon myself as if outside
my body, viewing myself three-dimensionally, from multiple angles and
heights, as I was climbing, leaping, and maneuvering my way through this
intricate and magnificent realm.

The next section of the city was secular. I asked strangers to help
save me from the radical Muslims pursuing me. Different voices told me
where to go or what to do. Suddenly, my mother appeared. She pointed to
the Santa Claus, which revealed a crawl space beneath his large wooden
chair. Because my pursuers were closing in, I chose to hide in this peculiar
crawl space. The hiding spot was soft, warm, and comfortable; however,
before long, I realized this “safe spot” was actually a trap door. After falling
about twenty feet, I saw the Hindu god, Vishnu. He instantly killed me
by projecting death rays from his four arms. Really, how are you going to
defend yourself against death rays???

Immediately after dying, I was in a movie theatre, but this time I
was my real self, not a “cultural Christian.” Apparently, I was watching a
movie of myself, about my life. Needless to say, I was astounded by the
events. Accompanying me was an uncle who was a “cultural Jew.” We
left the movie theatre and hopped in his car. As he was driving me home,
I realized he was driving down the right road, but on the wrong side of the
street. I enjoyed the ride in the passenger seat, as we casually discussed a
documentary on “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.” During our conversation,
he accidentally drove past my house. There was no one else
around us, so my uncle slammed on the brakes, put the car in reverse, and
made a right-hand turn up the driveway. I exclaimed, “We are home!”
Suddenly there was a loud and irritating sound. Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
Beep! Beep! Beep! My obnoxious alarm clock jolted me out of my dream
state!

This dream is lush in symbolism, and then some! Please allow me
to unravel these juicy splendors. To start with, the United States is often
looked at as a Christian nation by foreigners. The reality is, many claim to
be Christian, but do not truly follow Jesus Christ. As a result, perceptions
about Christianity are often distorted due to this unfortunate hypocrisy.
Had I treated the Muslims with Christ’s love, it’s unlikely they would have
hunted me down like a dog. After all, I was the one who riled them to hostility
and was clearly asking for peril.

The Buddhist section of the city represents a couple things. This
section was magnificently beautiful; however, it was complex maze with
no ultimate end. Classical Buddhism is very intricate, but it does not lead
anywhere. In my dream, Buddhism did not lead “home,” which was symbolic
of heaven. If fact, the ultimate goal and destination in Buddhism is
nirvana, which can be translated “nothingness.” Classical Buddhism does
not point to any deity, although modern sects and today’s mainstream Buddhism
accommodates and/or promotes deities. Generally speaking, the religion
is a philosophy that promotes an ethical framework, as well as a
system to discover peace by eliminating suffering. While in the Buddhist
section, I had a temptation of lust and failed. In many Buddhist countries
today, Thailand being the best example, prostitution is sadly a huge “industry.”
Of course most adherents of the religion frown upon this behavior,
but unlike Buddhism, Christianity offers forgiveness and redemption
through the suffering Savior.

As I entered the secular section of the city, friends, family, and
commoners pointed in various directions to guide me to safety. By and
large, U.S. citizens have a very comfortable lifestyle. As a result, many
live a life of indulgence, and rarely ponder the ultimate meaning of life
until they confront some distressing calamity. Many never consider these
questions before it’s too late. In an attempt to find refuge, I concealed myself
in what seemed to be a safe, warm, and comfortable hiding space. I
quickly discovered this space was not a safe sanctuary. It was a trap! The
hiding place is symbolic of secular society today.We have so many thrills
and distractions, bells and whistles; many people derive their meaning
from the next amusement around the corner. Additionally, many celebrate
Christ’s birthday (Christmas) as if it was an excuse to spend hundreds of
dollars on meaningless gifts and trinkets. Please do not misunderstand me;
it’s wonderful to give and receive gifts, but our culture often neglects the
heart of the season. Rather, many simply embrace the tantalizing seductions
of consumerism. Consumerism and secularism are intimately intertwined
in the United States today. India, the nation with the largest population
of Hindus (and the second highest population in the world), has increasingly
espoused secularism in the same sense we have. Interestingly, I fell
through the trap door and the Hindu god Vishnu, killed me. Many Hindus
see Vishnu as “The Preserver” and the lord of peace and truth. Vishnu did
not preserve, give peace, or provide truth. Vishnu brought death. In my
dream, Hinduism, consumerism, and secularism all brought death.

After I died in the dream, I was in a movie theatre watching myself.
My Jewish uncle and I departed the theatre, and entered his car. He was the
driver. I was in the passenger seat. The Jews are the chosen people of God
in the Old Testament. They paved the way for the Messiah to come. Christians
believe the Jews still hold a special place in the heart of the Lord.We
consider faithful Jews as dear friends, despite an unfortunate history that
did not always reflect tolerance and charity. In 1 Peter 2:7 the Bible says
“the Stone which the builders rejected has become the main Cornerstone.”
The builders are the Jews and the main Cornerstone is Jesus the Messiah.
My Jewish uncle was the driver of the car, but drove past “home,” just as
many Jews missed the Messiah. Additionally, he was driving on the right
road, but on the wrong side. When we were discussing “Jesus of Nazareth,
King of the Jews” in his car, it became evident we missed our destination.
He put the car into reverse, made a right-hand turn into the driveway, and
we were home. When I said, “we are home,” I immediately woke up!
Again, home represents heaven.

Interestingly, my alarm had been going off for five minutes. Normally,
I wake up within the first minute (if not instantly) of my alarm going
off. Furthermore, this alarm had one of the most excruciatingly loud
and annoying sounds. It is loud enough to wake the dead or at least someone
in a minor coma. Nonetheless, I was in a deep sleep, experiencing this
dream. There was absolutely no indication the alarm was going off. Normally,
I’ll hear the alarm, and groggily emerge from my beauty rest (which
is not typically beautiful). This time I woke up with my spirit quickened,
senses heightened, and soul refreshed. (I probably had a terrible “bed-head”
though.) I was reassured that the dream was a profound miracle and
promptly wrote down the dream.

The fullness of symbolism described, became more evident through
prayer, reflection, and considerable time. From the onset, the dream was
extremely encouraging and consoling. Many individuals understandably
struggle with the exclusive claims of Christ as I had, so I pray this serves
as authentic enlightenment for those in quest of answers amid countless
worldviews.

Finally, I want to add that I have genuine respect for various ways
of life. This includes including anyone’s sincere pursuit for goodness and
truth. There are many kind-hearted and decent people in numerous worldviews
and religions. Many of these followers are reasonable, intelligent,
and educated adherents of their faith. Many of them treat their “fellow
man” better than many Christians. This makes me question whether these
so-called “Christians” are truly followers of Christ; however, these questions
are not for me to determine. I would not be surprised to learn that
some individuals who were deemed “lost” were actually close to the heart
of Christ. God is love and mercy and is not actively seeking to damn anyone.
He knows all things and at the appointed time I believe these mysteries
will be revealed.

There are many instances wherein the Spirit of God moved in my
life, drawing me closer to the heart of Christ, and guiding me on the narrow
path. I give praise to the third Person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit! He
convicts me of my sin, reveals to me right from wrong, and gives me inner
strength to victoriously combat the lusts of the flesh and the rudiments of
the world. Despite these victories, I still have a long excursion ahead of
me to reach full union with Christ. In all likelihood, I will not attain this
until my admission into heaven. This also assumes I remain faithful and
endure to the end, abiding in His love. Few, if any, attain complete union
in this life. The Spirit of God speaks to me, protects me, and continues to
use me to unfold God’s ultimate plan. Although the Holy Spirit was with
me in every situation, there were a number of instances where He made
His presence abundantly clear.

Before I recognized the intervention of the Holy Spirit in my life,
and I viewed God as “universal,” there was a sense in my own spirit that
God Himself was touching the dark corridors of my heart. Because of the
Holy Spirit, my desires and aspirations have radically changed. Any goodness
within me comes from God alone. Every beat of our heart and every
breath we savor is a gift from our Creator, not something we earn. Christians
are called to reflect the light of Christ, just as the moon reflects the
light of the sun. A riverbed cannot supply fresh flowing waters if the river
is cut off at the mountain top. The Holy Spirit works mysteriously in the
lives of individuals, just as the wind blows to and fro through the hills and
valleys of creation. And so it is with the Lord: God works intimately in the
hearts and minds of people, just as a tailor modifies an article of clothing
to fit our uniquely fashioned bodies. God uniquely illuminates our souls,
bringing forth His plan as we remain open and willing vessels. His ways
are not our ways, and only He can see how each piece of the puzzle fits to
establish His grand design.

Brothers and sisters in Christ greatly inspired me to grow in His
grace. By not engaging in fellowship and honest dialogue with God’s people,
my spiritual progress would have been greatly hindered.A “Christian”
that believes they have all the answers, and assumes they have no need for
fellowship either lives in denial or has welcomed a ferocious deception.
Thinking one is too good to be apart of a community of believers is generally
a form of pride. For several months of my spiritual journey, my own
pride secluded me from the realities of God’s presence in the lives of His
people. Even so, the good Lord knew my heart, and revealed Himself to
me precisely where I needed to be met. Even though I had unanswered
questions, I hesitantly embraced His finished work on the cross for my
salvation, realizing He still had a great work to do in me. The next two
stories took place shortly after I “received” Jesus as Lord and Savior (see
chapter six).

Before I had a close connection with my brothers and sisters in
Christ, the Holy Spirit revealed Himself in glorious ways. I recall engaging
in a Bible study booklet entitled, “Knowing God.” The study resource
was put together by a well-known and respectable television preacher.
As I was working through the booklet, a mystical event transpired that
revealed God’s love to me. This indescribable sense of God’s love for
me touched my heart in such a beautiful way, I could not help but to allow
a flood of tears to stream down my beaming face. This was the first
time I encountered the love of God in such an intimate and manifest way.
The event was far better than any joy I ever experienced. I could feel my
Heavenly Father’s love for me, and it brought an incommunicable sense
of peace and security. I was overwhelmed with unspeakable elation as the
Holy Spirit brought an inexpressible joy, a joy that must be tantamount
to the joy of heaven. Knowing the goodness of my Lord inspired me to
deeply commit to His ways, as the motivation for following Him was born
out of love, not an unhealthy fear.

One restless evening, several months after this experience, I reflected
on my conversion up to that point. I laid comfortably in bed, eyes
closed, and evaluated how I embraced the message of Christ. This was
a long thought-out process. I assessed all my decisions, retraced all my
steps, and tried to make sense of all these profound experiences. In my
small townhouse bedroom, there was a large mirror hanging on the wall.
Between the mirror and its frame, there was nearly enough space to nudge
notes, papers, and photographs. One of the notes had several questions on
it. Suddenly, a mighty rush of grace was poured on me, and I was filled
with the fiery warmth of the Holy Spirit. I catapulted from beneath my
covers and quickly reached the plaguing questions. Under the dim illumination
of my desk lamp God prompted me to answer the questions. Guided
by His glorious presence, I confidently marked yes or no as He alleviated
these uncertainties. For about fifteen minutes, the fiery presence of God
enveloped me. I reverently kneeled, hands clinched in prayer, and repeated
“holy, holy, holy” over and over in rapturous submission. The truth is I felt
holy. This was not because of personal holiness; rather, because the Holy
Spirit of God filled my cup to an overflowing fullness.

A little later in my walk with the Lord, I had a number of experiences
where the Holy Spirit revealed Himself within group settings. The
most memorable experience involved me and two other individuals. We
were discussing “gifts of the Spirit” as mentioned in 1 Corinthians of the
Bible. After talking for about fifteen minutes, God poured His holy presence
on the three of us unexpectedly. We weren’t even praying or praising
Him! One of my friends drifted into intimate prayer with God; a few
seconds later I found myself on the floor filled with the fire of God. My
other friend, a very intelligent and faithful brother, pleasured in the Lord’s
serene presence during this glorious visitation. This is not something we
expected to happen! The Lord simply saw it good to console us with His
Spirit. The event was a very intimate time with God and with one another.
After the experience, we referred to the event as the “upper room,” borrowing
the name from the book of Acts (in the Bible) where the gift of the
Holy Spirit was given at Pentecost. Later that night, a similar experience
happened as I shared my testimony with the same girl in the “upper room.”
She suddenly entered worshipful prayer and drifted into tranquil elation.
I too felt His presence and exclaimed, “I feel it!” She rightfully corrected
me and said, “You feel Him.” The Holy Spirit is a Person, just as the Father
and the Son. The Holy Trinity is one God in three Persons: Father,
Son, and Holy Spirit.

These experiences within a short time frame were extremely encouraging,
and provoked me to a five day fast. For at least three of those
five days, I had nothing but water, and avoided solid food altogether. My
newly found friends became a tremendous support in my spiritual progress.
Arespected business professor once said, “You can’t soar with eagles
if you’re nesting with turkeys.” Their spiritual zeal intensified my desire
to be a fervent follower of Christ. These brief stories barely scratch the
surface concerning my encounters with the Holy Spirit! Whether we are
by ourselves, or with fellow believers, the Spirit of the Lord guides those
who earnestly seek Him. With the Father and the Son, He is worshipped
and glorified! Come Holy Spirit, come!

Many months had passed since my miraculous healing. I remained
drug-free and held steadfast to my moral convictions and Biblical truths as
I saw them. My faith in Christ grew leaps and bounds, and my pursuit for
truth became increasingly academic in nature. This was largely because I
desired to convince others of the gospel message. Furthermore, there were
still unresolved questions I needed answered. I became very interested in
Christian apologetics and read a number of books that sought to answer
tough questions from a reasonable skepticism. Christianity has truly withstood
vicious assaults from countless opponents, whether the expression
was intellectual, physical, or spiritual in nature. When I was younger, I
naively assumed Christianity was based on some whimsical mythology;
however, as I investigated the evidence, it became clear the faith was not
built on shaky ground. Undoubtedly, it has triumphantly stood the test of
time.

I quickly became an information addict. I wanted to share the “evidence”
with anyone willing to listen. My old self was a junky-loser, eager
to gratify carnal passions, absorbed in self-interests, and wedged in a state
of self-denial. The brand new man was born of the Spirit, passionate about
God, and informatively equipped to share. Although I diligently pursued
all these things, carnal passions abruptly drew me back to the abyss. I
frequently questioned whether this pursuit for holiness was a battle worth
fighting. It was not easy! In recognizing my vulnerabilities, an invitation
to a cousin’s Halloween party became a worrisome opportunity. Was this
a good chance to share my faith? Yes. Was this a place of great temptation?
Indeed! Therefore, I proceeded reluctantly. My primary motivation
for going was to see my cousins, regardless of the atmosphere. Nothing
could prepare me for what would transpire. The story is rich, but difficult
to follow, so I encourage you to read carefully.

The plan was to meet one of my cousins at his place, and then
travel to my other cousin’s home. I departed my apartment early Friday
evening, and headed east-bound on the turnpike to rendezvous with the
first cousin. In my rearview mirror was a brilliant, magnificent sunset. The
October air was cool, crisp, and the night sky was filled with eerily black
clouds. In almost a symbolic gesture, the clouds sharply contrasted the
sun’s heavenly radiance.

On the way there, I prayed and talked to my Heavenly Father,
seeking His strength and counsel over temptation. During this time of
prayer, God spoke clearly to my heart that I would experience a supernatural
event during the party. He did not specify what would happen, but I
cried out for grace, hoping that whatever transpired, His light would illuminate
my path. After a long, traffic-congested excursion, I finally met my
cousin and parked outside his home. He offered to pilot the final two-hour
stretch of the trip heading southbound to my other cousin’s home. Upon
arrival, the first thing I noticed was the size of the house. He was rooming
with three or four guys, and one girl. The joint was a sweet bachelor pad in
the center of upper-middle class suburbia.

My first night there did not expose a new creature in Christ, but
rather a hypocrite and a fool! Here I was, sharing the message of Christ
with my cousins, while simultaneously smoking a bong with them! Fortunately,
we were the only ones there, and none of us were using hard drugs.
Still, a dichotomy was waging in my soul. My quest for righteousness
clashed with my propensity to succumb to temptation in that environment.
This suggested a confused individual, not a man following Christ in spirit
and in truth. Perhaps out of kindness they didn’t peg me as a counterfeit
Christian; however, they would have been amply justified in doing so.
Upon further reflection, the circumstances could have been worse. At the
very least, I shared my faith in a respectful and caring way, while highlighting
some of the informative tidbits I picked up through my studies.
We had a meaningful dialogue, but it could have been more fruitful had my
state of mind not been floating somewhere between Saturn and Neptune!
The second night of my visit was the Halloween party, and a whole
lot of folks responded to the invitation! The horde invading the landscape
was comprised of an intriguing collection of individuals. Most were friends
of my cousin, others were friends of his roommates, some were strangers,
and many were just strange. Even foreign exchange girls from Eastern
Europe mysteriously appeared on the scene. By moderate party goers, the
episode was a pretty wild shindig. I had a couple beers, remaining sober
and comfortable. Without notice, a terrifying event shocked me out of my
peace.

I was casually wandering through my cousin’s place, scoping out
the scene and greeting newcomers. Very few people were there at that
point and the setting was calm and normal. As I walked into a bedroom
with the intent of meeting new folks, I saw a group of five people in the
basement bedroom, and decided to introduce myself. As I engaged them,
the event which God foretold started. Immediately, my mind was not on
the party; I knew this was part of the encounter God warned me of. As I
walked into that bedroom, I felt a demonic presence. Describing this encounter
is difficult because I did not see anything. The best way I can describe
this is through the radical change in my emotions. Before I encountered
this group I was alone, aimlessly and cheerfully enjoying myself.
Upon passing the threshold of this doorway, I felt a hellish presence and
instantly felt nauseated and panicked. There was a great sense of death and
evil, unlike anything I ever encountered before.

I darted out of the room as fast as possible, to seek a safe haven
from this terrifying presence. I sprinted from the basement up two floors
and locked myself in the third floor bathroom. As I sprinted, I mumbled
“God protect me” and “what the hell just happened!” I anxiously prayed
for God’s intervention in that isolated bathroom. He promptly answered
and told me, “You are going to have a confrontation with these people later
in the evening. Do not be afraid for I am with you.” Truly, I was fearful to
engage the growing party below, but I was also confident that the Lord had
His hand on the situation. There was also a sense of my mission: to bring
Christ into the party.

Not that I was in any danger, but I stealthily sauntered my way
downstairs and tried to maintain a low-profile. (I was so scared I could
have crapped my pants.) Upon entering the living room area, I noticed
the pool table was occupied. I indifferently observed the game, hoping to
strike up a conversation with someone. The shine of a small cross caught
my eye. The young lady wearing the cross told me her grandmother gave
her the necklace before she passed away. I asked her if she was a Christian.
She said “no.” Initially our conversation was very casual, but gradually
the discussion progressed.We mutually sought a quieter place to converse,
and headed to the basement where fewer people were partying. The only
room in the basement that appeared to be suitable for a private conversation
was the bedroom where I had experienced the hellish presence. Of all
the places in the house, she chose that room! The bedroom belonged to
one of my cousin’s roommates; she was the only girl present in that group
during the encounter. After checking with her, she gave us permission to
be there.

The room was filled with medieval wizardry figurines, candles,
and other occult trinkets. This gave me the impression she might be into
witchcraft. Although this is pure conjecture, it fits well to explain the
events. For about half an hour, my new friend and I discussed many issues:
God, religion, our different cultures, and our childhood experiences. I
asked her many questions about her home country, Romania. She seemed
very interested as I shared about the Lord. Given that my faith was so
fresh, my passion to share it was very intense. Most people cannot
identify with this kind of zeal and are understandably turned off. As a
former drug-addict and atheist soaking all sorts of worldliness like a filthy
mop, I can identify with how phony religious zealotry appears to non
believers. Fortunately, most faithful Christians are more tactful and respectful
in their approach.

In almost a symbolic manner, we conversed with the lights on
while the rest of the house was girded in darkness. Every five to ten minutes,
one of the same guys (from the group the Lord warned me about)
kept switching off the bedroom light. This happened three or four times.
We were practically in complete darkness on several occasions. There
we were, talking about God and truth in the midst of the light, and this
questionable character insisted on switching off the light. Did he have any
idea what we were talking about? At some point, one of them came into the
room and told us that we must leave. No explanation was given. Moments
after we left, the girl whose bedroom it was approached us; she reassured
us it was alright to stay there. We shrugged our shoulders and moseyed
back to the bedroom to resume our captivating dialogue.

In less than five minutes, the lights were turned off again! The
whole thing was transparently symbolic, not only to me, but also to this
delightful young woman by my side. Finally, the time came. Five people,
precisely the same individuals God warned me of, towered over us in the
small confined room. Why were they there? I said, “What’s up guys?”
They all appeared livid and ready to pummel me into oblivion. The
remarkable part was that they had absolutely no reason to be angry with
me! This is what made their presence so alarming. I was expecting to be
maliciously assaulted, yet they did not utter a single word. God dictated to
me loud and clear, “Get up!” For several seconds I remained numbed with
fear. God spoke again more forcefully, “Get up!!” By God’s grace I rose
with authority. My new friend also stood. Their facial expressions changed
from rage to terror like a flash of lightning, simply because I followed an
uncomplicated command. It was laughable! It was incredible! They made
a path for us similar to Moses parting the Red Sea. Still, not a word was
uttered, and we safely made our way out of the room, back into the darkness
with the assorted party-going revelers. (Our flight from Egypt didn’t
exactly lead to the Promised Land.) We parted for about half an hour, and
met up with different people. Later we sat on a couch and discussed the
event.

I shared what God spoke to me earlier. My agnostic friend was
surprised, and agreed something strange and mysterious definitely happened.
Not one of those five individuals confronted us again, and we never
figured out why they were mad. Both of us sensed we were meant to meet
each other. She gave me her email address, and we corresponded for quite
awhile. After she left the country, her email address no longer worked.
Unfortunately, we lost contact.

Everything God spoke came to pass. I later reflected on the events,
and tried to theorize some natural explanations. All the events could not
be collectively explained apart from a supernatural reality, particularly in
light of all my other experiences. Even in situations when I acted carelessly,
God chose to use me to bring about a purpose. Although I may never
speak with this gentle young woman again, I trust that God used our short
time together to bring about a purpose. After I went to sleep in one of the
spare bedrooms, the Halloween party degenerated, resulting in fist fights,
shattered glass, and many disgruntled souls. I was filled with great awe,
and marveled at God’s goodness in my circumstances.