The Conversion

T HE

by Larry Smith

ISBN -10: 1497558646 ISBN -13: 978 -1497558649 Copyright Š 2015 by Larry Smith All rights reserved.

Printed by CreateSpace, an Amazon.com company. www.CreateSpace.com Available from Amazon.com and other retail outlets.

Available on Kindle and other devices. www.Facebook.com / larrysconversion

Contents Foreword 5 Introduction 7 Prologue 10 The Trigger 12 New Levels 14 The Obsession 19 Bottom of the Pit 21 Paranoia and Depression 23 The Defining Moment 26 Compelling Compassion 29 Three Forward, Two Back 32 Changing the Focus 35 Reflection 39 Fire from the Sky 41

Photo credits: iStock, Shutterstock, Smith Family archives. Book design and montages by Larry Smith.

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Even in DARKNESS

LIGHT DAWNS for the UPRIGHT, for the GRACIOUS and COMPASSIONATE and RIGHTEOUS man.

PSALM 112.4

F o rewo rd As I express my deepest gratitude, only God can truly fill the hearts of those who have assisted and encouraged me through the years of this testimony. Most of them had no idea they were involved.

I am beginning with the ending. We MUST seek God before every endeavor. Jesus tells us to seek first the Kingdom and its righteousness and all these things will be given to you. Listen for the Holy Spirit to guide you into all truth. God will lift you up and direct you to those He has chosen for you. Those chosen may be church leaders, ministers, musicians, prayer warriors, saints, angels, the infirmed, friends, strangers, even... the homeless. God is no respecter of persons.

Some of the chosen who have had and continue to have the greatest impact on my spirit have been the National Church of God, Triumph in Christ Ministries, Shekanah Glory Outreach Worldwide, Love Never Fails International, Eternal Kingdom Power Ministries, Enon Baptist Church, my folk singing buddies of 50 years Tom, Fred and Dooley, relatives, close friends and the most important.... Mom and Dad. God could not have made a better choice.

Since this writing, the Lord has continued, through grace and mercy, providing me with increasingly powerful testimonies. He will do this for you if you simply display a hunger for Him. This is the nature of God..... relationship, correction, love and abundance. We must give testimony.

It is not as much the pain and suffering as the lesson taken from it.

Do your best to avoid more than one trip around your mountain.

This testimony has not been filtered through a professional editor or writer. The content is meant to be as real as possible from my heart and spirit. This testimony will be as though I spoke it to you directly.

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In tro d u ctio n No good deed goes unpunished. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I’m quite certain many cultures have their versions of these axioms, which would indicate an universality in the perception of life regardless of its accuracy. I must say neither have been part of my creed or code of beliefs. That is until the 1980s. Until this time, my life had been truly blessed. I just didn’t recognize it as such and therefore wasn’t giving God praise.

Even though raised in a God fearing, rural, North Carolina, Baptist family, I did not really intentionally demonstrate my beliefs once I departed that environment. Then came college, the military and a professional career. I landed knee deep into the real world.

Based on my fundamentally sound principles, I evolved into a generally accepted good guy, never in debt, ran my own freelance business, very idealistic and never wanted to be wealthy. I did not own anything of substantial, worldly value. I simply had no desire for, as George Carlin put it, “too much stuff”.

I didn’t like materialism. I was more fascinated with the human element. What makes us tick? What made me tick? Why was I here?

Why was the world so fouled up? During my young adult years, I spent countless hours reading and chatting with folks about the human condition. I came to realize few folks considered this important. Therefore, it became easy to understand why others were having personal difficulties in marriage, friendships and workplaces. They just never took the time to look inward... too busy with the outside.

I became quite confident and comfortable with my perception of others, albeit not judgmental.

Little did I know, this ability one day would cave in on me through an obsession I never thought possible. Herein unfolds a true story of a The Conversion 7

20 year experience. I’m still not totally clear of it. However, the track record God has given me of His grace and mercy indicates I have every right to know, by faith, it is only a matter of time.

As was the case with me, I have absolutely no doubt this testimony will impact some young person’s life. It is my truest intention to obey God’s Word as He says, confess yourselves one to another.

I do my best to learn vicariously through others, avoiding as much pain as possible. This is a basic tenet of scripture. Listen to God’s advice... avoid unnecessary pain. It all started in the Garden.

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Pro lo g u e In our men’s bible class, Pastor Steve imparted this eye opener.

On a recent trip to the Holy Land, a tour guide related to him a practice shepherds used with their flocks. When a sheep would continually stray, the shepherd would break its leg. He would then carry the sheep on his shoulders until the leg healed, thereby serving a two fold purpose. The first, for its own safety, to stop the sheep from straying. The second, allowing the sheep to develop a relationship with its master during the healing process.

This hit me squarely in the spirit for this reason: having experienced a near fatal crisis in the 1980s, my recovery was long and painful... physically, mentally, spiritually and emotionally. As I began recovery, folks, noticing I did not look well, would ask how I was doing, not really knowing my experience. Describing the ordeal as best I could, I would almost always use the analogy of having my legs broken, not physically, but mentally and spiritually.

Hungry for more of the Word, I attended monthly Women’s Aglow meetings sponsored by the church. One night, the guest minister was Rev. Janice Steele. I had not heard of her. Even driving to the meeting, I felt an urgency to get there... not to miss a word. She began by saying she had preached/taught on grace for quite a while and wanted to move to another topic. But the Spirit led her that night to continue the grace message. Being obedient, she did. God declares obedience above sacrifice (1Samuel 15.22).

For a couple of years, I had been seeing the numeral five everywhere. Most usually three consecutive fives. I would sometimes see 10

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multiple license plates within hours having three consecutive fives.

This felt mystical somehow but I had no explanation.

When Rev. Janice explained the numeral five was Hebrew for grace, I very nearly fell out of my chair. I was totally stunned to realize God was screaming at me to recognize the grace He was supplying for my restoration... new grace and mercy every day (Lam 3.22-23).

I challenge you to be silent and focus on the power of this scripture.

The creator of the universe gives us a new start every day... every day.

The pit of my crisis was in the early 1980s. It happened during a time when I believed in God, had been baptized as a teenager, but was not walking the walk or talking the talk. I had no true personal relationship with God. Some twenty years later, I hear Pastor Steve and Rev. Janice and my whole recovery attitude crystallized in a moment. Only now had I realized, through grace, God had kept me on His shoulders until I saw Him first, recognized Him first, asked Him first. During the past twenty years, God had been carrying me until I established a relationship with him I had never known before, much less knowing it even existed. I have to tell you, I would wish this journey on no one. However, the teaching I have received through it, from God and his messengers, rivals nothing I have ever experienced.

Whereas some of this recovery time was a blur, the Spirit has indicated this testimony will be the balm of Gilead for someone in a similar dilemma and perhaps serve as a preventative for others.

Because another son’s story peaked my interest, I know this story will provide excellent direction and warning signs for a father and son, perhaps a mother and daughter. It’s really not a gender thing, rather, relationships and knowing when to ask God for wisdom. Herein lies the testimony.

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Th e T rig g e r An innocent, small article you read can trigger a floodgate, a cascade, or best of all... a mission. This happened to me in the mid 1970s. A Parade Magazine article discussed the anguish of a man (close to my age), whose Dad passed away unexpectedly.

This man had not taken the time to know his Dad on a deeper level. Now, it was too late. At that very instant, I said to myself, I must learn from his situation. To avoid as much pain as possible, I make a conscious effort to learn vicariously from others’ mistakes. This was no exception.

In the natural world, as well as the spiritual, everything has two sides... a front and back, an up and down, plus and minus (Ecc 3). In this case, my strength was my ability to focus and be single-minded toward achieving my goal. Of course the backside of this strength can blind side you because your vision is not circumspect. The Spirit tells us to be circular in our vision (Eph 5.15). Be conscious of everything around us. Being roughly the age of 30, I did not realize this. I was driven to know my Dad and not feel that regret of “I waited too late”.

At this time of my life, I felt comfortable with myself, not egotistical. I was fortunate to have excellent parents. Although an only child, I was not spoiled. Raised in an urban, rural environment, I saw two worlds. My grandparents lived in a rural, three room farmhouse with tar brick siding, an outdoor drinking well with a hand cranked bucket and an outhouse. Grandma cooked on a wood burning stove. My education through high school was in a small city of about 100,000, which was 30 miles from my grandparents.

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I was also fortunate to experience a strong, traditional Baptist upbringing in our home as well as a small, rural church of approximately 200 people. By the time I was in college, I began to stray from my spiritual roots, but not in a demonic fashion. I simply became more secular, living in the natural world like so many, too many, young people do at that age. As I began this mission concerning my Dad, my spiritual training was in the back seat. This is the precise opening, or weakness, Satan looks for.... prowling like a lion (1 Peter 5.8).

By the mid 1970s, following my military obligation and discharge, I remained in the Washington, DC area. I would typically visit my folks in North Carolina a couple of times a year. During one of those visits, I began my mission with dad. However, an element of this venture existed of which I was not aware. He, along with many of his generation, wasn’t really used to conversing on a deeper, personal level, whereas I had come to relish existing on that level with friends and the occasional stranger. Sometimes strangers connect more easily than friends or family.

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N e w Le v e ls I looked forward with zeal to meet my dad on new levels. I was okay with Mom. We got along fine, which often seems the case with cross gender family members... father with daughter, mother with son. Little did I realize, over the next five years, I would hurl myself into a downward spiral, headlong into a black pit that would surely take my life.

I must be crystal clear at this point. My approaching ruin was NOT my dad’s fault. Even though we truly loved each other, we verbalized it only once or twice. We just weren’t raised to easily express our feelings... you know, hugs in public, that sort of thing.

My dad was always supportive in my youth whether it be through sports, part time jobs, music, hunting, fishing, scouting and other various activities. I always loved the outdoors. All these activities bring life lessons beyond the immediate enjoyment. Most of them I did not realize until a few years later.

As a kid, my personal favorites were hunting and fishing. We typically hunted the backwoods of dad’s adolescence. He knew the neighbors. We would bring them squirrels for stews in trade for permission to hunt their property.

These were not only adventures of the outdoors, it was Dad, a WWII veteran, teaching me respect and proper use of a weapon, a fishing rod and other tools to survive the elements. I remember he once pulled a pine root out of the ground and lit it with a match. The sap in a live pine root is so rich and volatile, it makes excellent kindling for campfires. These were important to a boy scout in training.

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Even though he did call me stubborn a couple of times as a youth, he never talked down, slapped, abused or yelled at me. Then there were times of correction. Of course this would ultimately be for my benefit. I recall once mom giving me a whipping with tears streaming down her face while telling me, “This hurts me more than you.� A few years passed before that one sank in. Nothing like the sting of a leather belt or a sugar maple tree switch to upgrade your behavior.

(Pro 13.24; Pro 19.18; Pro 22.15; Pro 23.13-14; Pro 24.15) Much later in life I began to see the nature of the Holy Spirit manifesting through Dad although he may not have seen it as such

Dad and me circa 1947.

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at the time. By this, I mean God will also correct his children.

(Pro 3.12; Heb 12.6-7) I wish I had the awareness of it at the time.

As Mom would tell me later in life he had great love and compassion for those around him. She told me later he played guitar, harmonica and sang hymns to local groups like nursing homes. He was in the church choir and quartet. They always wanted him back.

Mom would tell me of his pride over my achievements as I finished school, the military and began professional life. I rarely heard these first hand. That seems to be the way frequently of family members… too much taken for granted. As I recall, we only told each other we loved each other once. I was home visiting about 30 years of age and thought… I need to do this. I broke the ice (so to speak) by initiating the moment. We embraced somewhat awkwardly. After all, this was a bit difficult for most men of 20th century rural America.

However, a single story mom related of him was the one which would dissolve my heart for my dad. I did not know of this incident until after his passing. In the early 1980s Mom had bypass surgery. Up to this point, neither parent had any surgery to speak of except childbirth. When Mom was in pre-op for the bypass, Dad came in, stood next to the gurney, looked down at her and said, “I wish it could be me.” As an Engineer, here is a man who withstood midnight sniper fire while building military bridges in WWII Germany, willing to go under the knife in mom’s place. Snipers had limited vision at night.

To know my dad’s demeanor of confident reserve, only speaking when he had an important point or humorous comment and being an authority figure, this was a landmark revelation of him I never knew.

These were precisely the unknown (to me) attributes of Dad I was searching for.

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The air traffic controllers’ strike, during the Reagan years, was a classic debate.

I never knew my parents’ political persuasions. They rarely discussed such matters around me. As you may recall, the traffic controllers’ issue concerned working long hours, straining their mental faculties, consequently endangering the lives of passengers.

Their grievances sounded

Dad circa 1979.

reasonable to me. Problem was, government workers, legally, could not strike. As controllers, how could they get the government’s attention to resolve the issue? The administration wouldn’t budge. My dad took Reagan’s view, the law... by the book. You don’t break the law.

As a government worker, you follow the rules.

My dad’s take on this conflict infuriated me. I was raised to be considerate of others, humble, all the standard Christian ethics. I was very idealistic. I despised worldly strife. Why did people treat each other so insanely? So, to my mind, Dad felt the law was more important than the lives of passengers, although he never stated that in so many words. I was beside myself. I remember to this day, my heart pounding, ripping through my rib cage because I couldn’t get him to acknowledge my viewpoint.

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This was the conundrum... I was trapped in the middle of the very thing I was trying to overcome with my dad... a meaningful communication. I was, what some may refer to as, being between a rock and a hard place. Over the next four to five years, this manner of dialog continued. I began to feel I was being punished for pursuing a worthy cause... to be closer to my dad.

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T h e Ob se ssion Now, the pursuit had become a nightmare. The stress from this nightmare would land me in the pit of hell, of which I saw no way out. For the first time in my life, I saw no hope. I even said it out loud with Mom present, while visiting close friends during this time of descending health. I heard a gasp from her I shall never forget. At that moment I knew she had no idea of my struggle, even though I tried to explain it to her.

I must add a crucial point here. I never addressed God concerning my issue with Dad. We may pursue the right mission through our own understanding, when in reality this may not be God’s plan at all.

Scripture tells us, His ways are not our ways (Isa 55.8). In retrospect, I felt in my case, I was doing the honorable in the wrong manner. I became determined... obsessed... to avoid the fate of the man in the Parade article, and at the same time be closer to my dad.

In later years, Mom would subsequently, tell me how Dad would brag about me concerning my achievements and maturity. As it too often happens to many children, parents rarely express kudos to them directly at least to the baby boomers. Consequently, kids, sensitive kids, may often be left in a fog. If it’s the dad, this dilemma can have a profound impact later in life concerning that child’s relationship to God, his spiritual father.

When we realize God is our heavenly Father, our earthly father relationship is easily transferred to our heavenly Father. Regardless of how we read the Word and seek understanding, that heavenly Father connection can be problematic. A big one for me was expectation.

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How DARE I expect God to serve me. It was nonsensical. I was raised by my earthly father, and rightly so, not to expect or demand things from others. This could be deemed arrogant and selfish... self-serving.

Sometimes our thinking just gets twisted even though we don’t realize it. But when you get into the Word, read it and hear it, clarity is inevitable. Such spiritual catharsis can bring tears of joy and thankfulness.

As I pursued my dad’s deeper feelings about our relationship and his life, my angst became greater. His responses were not what I had hoped for. I didn’t perceive stress was on the horizon. I had never been a stressful person. For the next four years, I would visit a couple of times a year for weekends. Even with these skimpy visits, the stress increasingly affected my health. I had always been laid back with no idea the danger and power of stress. My only reaction was it had to be Satan and my time was near.

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T h e B o tto m o f the Pit At the worse stage of my stress, seriously depressed and disoriented, not knowing what was happening, I drove to my parents’ home with bills and checkbook in hand preparing for the unknown. I had no idea what was happening. It was all I could do to make the six hour drive. My mind was swirling. Folks compared me to either being on drugs or going through a divorce. I had never experienced either. I had absolutely no energy. I could not even walk the length of our front lawn of about 100 feet.

My nerves were shredded. I had lost 40 of my 170 pounds. Not knowing this at the time, generally, our body contains two kinds of fat: brown and white. The brown fat keeps our organs in place while the white is storage for energy. In a bizarre irony, the body, in order to survive, will cannibalize itself by going to the brown fat and muscle tissue as a last resort for energy. I could feel my organs and brain shift if I made sudden movements. This in part is why you see bones through the skin of the starving in countries like Africa and India.

One night in my living room, as the stress took its toll, I was experiencing more intense moments of anguish. I was reclining in a sitting position on the sofa like a vegetable, a zombie. I began to feel a sizzle, an electric current, a vibration, come into the top of my head and work its way down to my toes. Not heat, but a sensation, apparently lasting only a few seconds. I could feel organs vibrating. I didn’t know what to think. But it didn’t feel evil. I was wondering if this was God or some heavenly force. This happened a couple of more times in following days with diminishing fashion and finally stopped.

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One night, soon after that, I felt the urge to lie flat on the carpet with arms outstretched. I began to feel something come over me. It was like a great pain without pain.... mental, perhaps spiritual, but not physical. Then immediately, I rose up, walked into the kitchen, leaned across the sink bracing my forehead against the cabinets with arms outstretched against the doors, like I was poised for a lashing.

I began tapping my forehead against the cabinet feeling this great emotional, spiritual pain. I thought I was feeling the combined suffering of the world. I was crying so hard I couldn’t cry... drooling.

Although not physically beaten like Christ, in a small way, I clearly understood Jesus’ anguish on the cross... when He said “Forgive them for they know not what they do” (Luke 23.24) I wondered, how many others have felt what I’m feeling? This lasted for several minutes.

Then I began to calm down feeling extremely exhausted.

A short time later, my Dad passed on to heaven. I’ll never forget the phone call. As soon as the phone rang, even in my weakened condition, I knew it was bad news. I knew he wasn’t ill. Something had happened at home. I had no clue. I was in a nervous sweat as I picked up the receiver and a pastor’s voice said Dad had just died unexpectedly... stomach aneurysm.

Oddly, I didn’t grieve as deeply as I thought I would. It was a combination of my own poor health with the feeling at least I had made the effort to connect with him. Recalling the man in the Parade article who missed that opportunity with his dad, I was hoping to learn vicariously through his pain, but now was in my own pain.

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P a ra n o ia a n d D ep r es s ion From this point on, I periodically felt I had caused his death... that I had pushed too hard with my zeal to be closer to him. I never knew to ask God first if I should pursue this and if so to what degree. Mom tried to persuade me, more or less, to leave it alone. She was doing her best to convince me he did not respond well about deeper emotions. I still thought I created stress in him resulting in his demise.

He may have wished he could accommodate my queries, but simply did not know how to easily express himself. Otherwise he was in generally good health... did not smoke or drink.

I was still so paranoid for a few years afterwards, when I went home to visit Mom, I thought she might kill me in my sleep because she may have thought I had caused his death. I never confessed that to her. To know the beautiful spirit of my mom, you would realize the absurdity of this logic. No one knows God’s process of selecting our parents. In my case, he could not have made a better choice.

I struggled with sleep and feelings of near death. If I were to relax my mental struggle, I would surely die. I was mostly sure I would go to heaven, but not convinced. After all, I was born again when I was approximately 12 years old. At that age, do we truly know salvation?

Do we really have a personal relationship with God? To look back, I did not. This brought the thought: this could be Satan’s deception. I could be going to hell. It just didn’t feel like the right thing to do... to give in to this persuasion since I wasn’t sure.

Mom always said, “When in doubt, throw it out.” Even though she was speaking about food, this advice was applicable to anything in The Conversion 23

life. Point being, God leaves no doubt. He will even confirm when necessary or when asked to do so.

For about a year, I was sustaining a fear of sleep. I felt if I allowed myself to drift off, I wouldn’t wake up. The sleep deprivation was certainly the most devastating aspect of the pit. Night after night I was mentally, physically and spiritually wrestling with what I came to

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realize was nothing less than Satan himself or at least one of his darkest demons. The Bible does speak of dark angels. With the morsel of spirit I had left, I envisioned myself in a suit of armor… like the old knights of King Arthur. I actually dared Satan to manifest himself so I could at least get my hands around his neck. I wanted this spiritual event to become physical so I could do something about it. But it would never happen.

Imagine my glorious surprise in later years as I heard for the first time, the battle is not in flesh or blood, but in the Spirit (Eph 6.12).

To grasp this point is extremely critical. Here I was floundering in ignorance of God’s word. Satan, being supernatural, knew this was his big chance… the opening, the weakness he was looking for. At this point, only one word comes to mind... GRACE. We can do nothing to earn it. It is a gift from God. (Eph 2.8-9) God had plans for my life, saw my potential and, as He said to Satan concerning Job, you can test him but you will not take his life.

At this moment, you must, MUST realize God is no respecter of persons (Acts 10.34). This happened to me, it can happen to you. I did not see it coming. God knew it before I was born. Scripture says He knew us before the womb (Jer 1.5). I learned later, sleep deprivation being so intense to the body and mind, is used as a highly successful method of torture.

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Th e D efin in g Mo m ent Since I was away from God all those years, I didn’t really pray about anything, attend church, or read scripture. However, during one night, at my absolutely most desperate moment with fear of sleep, I cried out the 23rd Psalm. I couldn’t remember all of it... only “He leads me through the valley of the shadow of death”.

I thought, so this is what “shadow of death” means. I was in it.

However, the word is, He leads us THROUGH it, not, He leaves us IN it.

God says goodness AND mercy shall follow me ALL the days of my life.

I didn’t realize until years later, this was the defining moment of my life. As I subsequently learned from other near-death testimonies... there’s something about calling on the name of Jesus. We don’t have to recite chapters and wax eloquent of His Word. As scripture tells us, God is closest to us during our pain. All we have to do is call His name... touch the hem of His garment and He takes over.

During this time, God led me to a medical doctor through a mutual friend. Dr. Schildwaechter turned my life around. Through his noninvasive methods, avoiding drugs and other harmful, conventional treatments, I was able to take an aerobics class three months later.

It was a strain, but I did it. I still had a long way to go. Still had fear of sleep. This condition plagued me for years with agonizingly slow improvement. Still not seeking God. I was too caught up in my depression and amazement of how I would ever be clear of this destruction in my life. Savings gone. Couldn’t work. Debt mounting. Back taxes.

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Knowing God’s Word with His grace on your life, Satan has no chance. He was defeated at the cross. He that is in me is greater than he that is in the world (1Jn 4.4). No weapon formed against me shall prevail (Isaiah 54.17).

At this point, I absolutely cannot express strongly enough how I wish I knew then what I know now about the power of the Holy Spirit. I’m not talking about religion. Forget religion. It’s not about the color of the carpet, how many stain glassed windows or how big the building. It’s not about deeds alone. This eliminates any prideful boasting on our part. We cannot earn our way to heaven. The Holy Spirit is a personal relationship with God through studying His Word.

Many who “think” they’re on the right track, don’t have a hunger for God. God rewards those who diligently seek Him (Heb 11.6).

Once you begin studying God’s Word, you will find it far exceeds previous superficial perceptions. When you have the hunger, God will lead you to the answers if you’re obedient to His lead. You HAVE to reach out! God is no respecter of persons. I don’t care what you’ve done, where you’ve been, God will meet you exactly where you are.

The Word says if we don’t accept Jesus as Savior and believe He is THE way, not A way, to eternal life, then we will die two deaths. First, the natural, then the eternal judgment of being cast into the lake of fire (Rev 20.14). Why take the chance? It makes no sense to risk life on your own terms and understanding. Pascal, in part, was correct when he surmised: “Let us weigh the gain and the loss, in wagering that God is. Consider these alternatives: if you win, you win all, if you lose you lose nothing. Do not hesitate, then, to wager that he is”.

Obviously Pascal had not read God’s Word enough to know, if you lose, it’s a big time eternal loss.

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For years afterward, I simply could not see ahead in my life. Because of depression, I couldn’t look forward to anything. Not that I didn’t want to... I couldn’t. I once heard a very apt description of depression. Imagine sitting across a table from someone who reaches out and places a pill in front of you. They tell you if you take the pill, all your depression will disappear. Yet, you do not feel compelled to even reach out for the pill.

To look back, the grace of God was so powerful on my life, I still get weak at the thought of it. Although I wasn’t pursuing God during this time, His intercession told me I had a mission to fulfill. What was it?

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C o mp e llin g C o mp as s ion During the middle to latter years of recovery, I was overcome with desire to see others healed. I detested seeing unhealthy and disabled people. Being aware some healers took on the pain of others during the healing, I wondered if I could do the same. At certain times my chest would heave as though having run a mile and I would gush tears and drool uncontrollably at the knowledge of someone ill or of their life in turmoil. It could be someone on TV, someone I didn’t know. I just wanted that person restored quickly and totally.

At one time during my recovery, I felt so sorry for those kids on the Christian Children’s Fund ads, even though I had no money, I knew I had to be involved. I bought a packet for one little boy for a small monthly fee, which paid for meals and bare essentials. We were to be pen pals. Even though I was miserable, I felt he was worse off and needed encouragement. After a few months, I could not keep up the payments and had to drop the correspondence. This drove me even further into depression because I felt I had let him down, and he would never know why.

I was reading books, studying articles and newsletters and intensely listening to health and nutrition experts. For years, I would Xerox countless pages of health materials for friends and others through mutual friends... people I had never met, but only knew their conditions. Even though I was recovering from my own mess, I desired to somehow mystically, draw pain of others through me to heal them. I had learned more about nutrition than some doctors, based on what friends told me of their doctor’s dietary advice.

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Years later I began to seek God in a powerful way, understanding the Word like never before. It was then I saw clearly, Jesus’ crucifixion conquered Satan. HE made ALL things new. By His stripes I WAS healed (Isa 53.5; 1 Peter 2.24). What a relief it was that I didn’t need to receive the pain of others. Jesus had already accomplished this for ALL of us... even the unbeliever. I had always known He died for my sins, but I never understood it in this totality. It’s the blood... the BLOOD. Bad health is a result of poor choices. Not seeking God’s wisdom for proper selection. I know some will jump and scream “what about genetics, people born with problems they didn’t create?” These are a result of ancestral curses. Among other reasons, poor choices were made and future generations pay the price. Throughout scripture we find this effect. We can pray against and overcome ancestral curses.

According to God’s Word, it is illegal for pain and disease to be in our bodies. From our Garden beginning, God never meant for us to be sick. Because of original sin and expulsion, we brought sickness on ourselves. Only Jesus, the second Adam, became our healer, our way out, our way back.

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My gift to mom 1992.

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Th ree Fo rward , Two Bac k My recovery was so slow. Gradually over months and years, I would occasionally see improvement, then I would relapse a bit. By this time I was in debt after spending my savings for bills, rent and basic survival needs. Dropped all insurance, subscriptions and the like, just survival mode.

As my energy gradually improved, I began seeking some sort of social life... trying to get grounded again. Volleyball became a near obsession for years to come. It was very cheap, could play year round and, most of all, met some great players who skillfully taught me the game. For my age, I was receiving fabulous kudos on my play. As I looked back, I could say, “look what God has done!”

During this time, immediately upon arrival for a weekend doubles tournament in North Carolina, at 8:30 in the morning of the first day, I was stung by a yellow jacket just as I was getting out of my car. A few minutes later, I fell out of my chair, passed out. My immune system was still so weak, I had a reaction to the sting. Never happened to me before. After being revived several minutes later, God gave me strength to play the tournament in 90 degree heat.

I must admit, of the wonderful people I’ve met playing volleyball, the Samoans were most encouraging by far. Especially Nik, Pele, Mo, Pili, Ed, Mel, Rudy and others. They are truly a special culture. I tried to express to them how they affected me during my recovery time.

The one thing I appreciate about the DC area is the many cultures from around the globe. It’s a microcosm of humanity... young, old, rich, poor, all colors, male, female. I’ve played many volleyball games 32

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of doubles, two on a side, and each person from a different country, all sharing the joy, excitement and enthusiasm... all in a 900 sq. ft. box. We need to install a volleyball court behind the UN. Then came a special moment in my life. She was an extraordinary person. Still facing desperate challenges, this surprise was truly a powerful blessing. This was the first time I understood true love. The feeling that sacrifice and compromise didn’t really feel like sacrifice and compromise. We held hands almost constantly. I was as open about my turmoil as I could possibly be. I wanted to be sure she knew my struggle. Therefore she had a choice to stay or leave.

Although the relationship finally dissolved, I feel she never really tried to understand my torment. She was looking for stability and marriage. On the other hand, it was all I could do to maintain survival mode. I was still in debt, struggling with sleep, part time jobs. No stability there. I couldn’t pull my life together fast enough for her plans. I felt that breakup set me back three years. I was in serious relapse. Since I was still hypersensitive to almost everything, this event was a powerful blow. So, in effect, the ending basically canceled most of the goodness I received from the relationship.

When we experience life-threatening crises, the means and speed of recovery can be crucial. In this case, the person I thought would be the love of my life was lost because I had not recovered enough to meet her expectations. I’m not sure of God’s intention of that experience. I hope to realize it some day. One friend, I believe, had the answer. He said, “Sounds like you loved her more than God”, which at that time was correct.

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If you don’t mind, allow me to take this moment by saying, I did not know the direct cause of my struggle. Oh I knew it had something to do with stress, but did not make the connection with effect on adrenal glands, therefore hormonal imbalances. This understanding came many years later. This is a key take away from this entire testimony. When you go on your own without seeking God first, no matter how correct you think you are, you can fall into a black hole.

At that point, only God can save you. Once chronic stress moves in, adrenals fatigued, possibly exhausted, your health can be like falling dominoes from that point until God saves you.

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C h an g in g th e Foc us We sometimes took clothes to the homeless living on the streets.

This was a new venture to me. A few months after our breakup, I continued visiting homeless in DC along the Pennsylvania corridor near the Capitol. After a couple of years, I became trusted friends with a few of them. They recognized my car and always shook my hand. Begging was rare. I usually took fruit and occasionally clothing. I typically have trouble with names, not faces. For some reason, I wanted to remember their names. We are all God’s creation and they deserved recognition. With few exceptions, society essentially walked away from them, thinking they’re all drunken bums. Frequently this is far from the truth.

Fortunately, now, greater efforts are being made to restore these displaced lives.

I visited year round. It can get below freezing in a DC winter. I learned quickly to wear at least two of everything...

Coffee warmer.

pants, shirts, coats. We would sit and chat. Concrete and marble ledges get fiercely cold after sitting on them for an hour or so. The community was mostly men with a couple of women. No two stories were the same. One dude became a close friend. A Vietnam vet with beard and dreadlocks, Mac was a friendly soul with a Godly spirit, The Conversion 35

insightful and somewhat a guardian for the others. They all looked up to him. After visiting three or four years, the Spirit told me to do something special for his Christmas. I could at least afford a few things from the local thrift store. I wrapped gloves, socks, hoodie and sweatpants all separately and put them in a large box also wrapped.

Looking for a parking space on Pennsylvania Avenue that night, I was hoping to find Mac. You never know if they will be in the same place. I usually visited with fruit at night to avoid possible risk of embarrassment to them during the day. I’ll never forget one night sitting with a couple of the guys on a park bench. A family passed by handing out bags of sandwiches to the homeless. They offered me one thinking I was homeless. That’s a feeling difficult to describe.

Considering my life at that moment, I was almost homeless anyway.

Later, as I searched for Mac, I finally saw him sitting by one of the park statues. As I approached him in the sharp, cold, December air, I noticed he was praying. I apologized for accidentally attracting his attention. He said it was no bother and we continued to greet, our words becoming clouds of mist. With the big box under my arm, I asked if we could move over to a secluded bench under the streetlight. He said sure, not suspecting my motive.

As I placed the box on the bench, I told him I brought something for Christmas. Standing next to the box, he took a long pause with a gracious smile looked at the box, then me, then the box. He was reluctant to open it. He began slowly to peel the gift-wrap as though to save it for next year. I thought of my Mom at that moment, always frugal, displaying the same regard to wrapping paper as though it was imported Chinese silk. It could always be used next Christmas.

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Then he began removing each item and painfully, slowly unwrapping each one, smiling and thanking me each time. He was savoring the moment. I wondered when he last had this opportunity. Most cer-

This bench was Mac’s Christmas tree.

tainly, I had not experienced it. As he opened the last one, he paused, stepped close and gave me a bear hug I shall never forget.

It was a specially unique and spiritual embrace. God commands us to love one another (Mt 22.37). This is not a suggestion. God says, “Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen (1Jn 4.20).

I still visit a homeless friend whom I met on the street about the same time as Mac. The other homeless and I convinced her to move into shelter where she is to this day. Previously a Pennsylvania civil

Mary circa 1995.

Mary circa 1997.

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servant, nearly 55 years of age, Mary was on the streets for over 10 years with various physical ailments, paranoia and fear of being attacked.

She was in bondage of evil spirits. But, glory to the Holy Spirit, she is making progress. With authority as a Covenant child declaring the blood of Jesus, demons have been cast out. She has counselors.

It’s very rewarding, seeing God’s restoration in progress. She’s quite adroit, loves animals, has near photographic memory, writes poetry and wants a part time job.

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R e fle ctio n After my crisis, twenty years were necessary for me to see this startling revelation: my entire odyssey was... after all that... SELFISH (Mark 8.31; 2Cor 5.15). My perceived mission to get closer to my dad, even though seemingly well intended, was selfish and obsessive. I never once considered whether he would care to engage in or benefit by my pursuit. I did not know at the time to ask God about this mission. God says, my people suffer from lack of knowledge (Hos 4:6). I had certainly missed the vicarious aspect of that truth.

This writing of my experience with Dad has been stalled for several months beyond my understanding, until now. God restrained the finish until I became aware of my selfishness. I instantly repented.

This was big time, face-in-the-floor repentance. I felt I had essentially altered at least three lives... dad’s, mom’s and mine. This conviction had to be realized to complete the testimony. I nearly destroyed my life because of a selfish act, which I thought was well intended... and God’s grace and mercy saved me anyway.

Just because an action appears beneficial, doesn’t mean it is. Scripture states, “There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end leads to death.” (Pro 14.12; 16.25; 21.2). God’s ways and thoughts are not ours. Satan is the great deceiver. He can appear as the shining light (2Cor 11.14). This is why constant vigil and prayer is paramount in all we do. This is not paranoia. God is our protector. He tells us not to worry (Mt 6.25-34). It behooves us to be discerners of spirits.

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Fire fro m th e Sky By this time, I was beginning to learn computer graphics, spending long hours. I really wanted to learn it. A close friend introduced me to Lisa who turned out to be an invaluable source of computer knowledge on several levels. We remain good friends to this day. My clients have been directly blessed because of Lisa’s assistance.

One late July night as I was learning the computer, an inaudible voice came to me saying, “Push yourself away from the computer.

Get out of the apartment”. After pausing, I listened, saw it was around 10pm and thought, where would I go this late? Beyond that, I had no idea what it meant or what to do.

I had worked in nearby Old Town Alexandria, for many years, and knew the area well but had not spent time there for several years.

The weather was nice so I drove to Old Town and began to stroll the streets, mingling with the Friday night crowds. You could hear the various street musicians from block to block. As I approached the Potomac River’s edge, at the last corner, I heard a familiar sound. The remarkably unmistakable sirens of a glass harmonica.

This instrument was brought over from England by Benjamin Franklin. It consists of a table top with specifically arranged, anchored wine glasses filled with various levels of water to produce a sound as a moist finger glides around the edges. Truly beautiful and ethereal vibrations. The performer happened to be the same one I had seen in the exact same spot years ago. Only this time, something different was about to happen. Something I never saw coming.

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As he performed, he would discuss various aspects of the melodies and how he came to learn them. At one point he made a veiled reference to a spiritual connection. This intrigued me. I waited through the last set when the musicians began closing up shop around midnight.

I asked if he would mind elaborating on his spiritual remarks. He said he would be glad to. Being about my age, he began sharing his life story, which was almost parallel to my own. I was amazed.

He spoke of going through rough times and searching for meaning in life through various religions, eventually finding the true God. I began expressing to him my similarities and current desperation.

At one point, I was so emphatic, with arms raised, under the street lamps, I looked up into the night sky, as though holding a giant globe, saying, “I need something dynamic to happen for me. I need fire, smoke, something out of the sky to save me – to restore me.” With that, he suggested a nearby church which held Friday night prayer services providing healing and a powerfully spiritual atmosphere.

Within a couple weeks, I began attending the prayer services, then later, Sunday services. I have to say at this point, I had never experienced anything like the power of the Spirit in that first prayer service.

A few weeks later, I realized the meaning of a prophetic dream I had many years earlier. I didn’t see the dream as prophetic at the time. A dream of sitting around a community swimming pool filled with aqua blue water. People next to me were all nationalities, shoulder to shoulder sitting around the pool with legs dangling in the water.

As about 50 of us stood in an oval at the foot of the altar during this particular prayer service, I looked down at the blue carpet, then up at the mix of nationalities..... I was seeing my dream. There it was

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unfolding before my very eyes. I finally realized myself in the midst of God’s family with our feet in the Word. Scripture refers to the Word as being like flowing waters. Pastor Fletcher later used another water metaphor by saying, very appropriately, “If you play on the river bank long enough, you’re bound to slip in.” Indeed, I had fallen in.

The Spirit compels me to be clear on this one thing. The moment you, as a parent or child, sense an undesirable distance, do not take it on yourself to bridge that gap. God knows your heart and the situation. Ask for guidance. With patience, the way will become clear and unmistakable. The process may surprise you, however the solution will manifest. Prayer is our most potent connection with God. Why would God tell us to rejoice and pray continuously? (1 Thess 5.16) It benefits us and those around us. If Jesus prayed, you know it’s important.

Through my blind obedience to walk away from the computer that night, God led me, through a street musician, to a powerful church which became a doorway to other powerful ministries, men and women breathing the fire of the Holy Spirit, classes and prayer meetings. God has worked miracles in my life. Financial restoration is stabilizing.

Like the stone monuments of Jacob, the Holy Spirit is establishing a track record with me. I’m truly now seeing the missions God has for me... the very ones for which Satan tried to take me out. The enemy will do anything at anytime to distract and inhibit us from expanding God’s Kingdom. He prowls like a lion (1 Peter 5.7-9). As life unfolds, we must truly actualize Jesus’ Great Commission. In part, He tells us to spread the gospel, heal the sick and cast out demons (Mark 16).

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Scripture tells us to seek first the Kingdom... and all these things will be given unto us (Mt 6.33). If we simply listen and obey, God will establish a position for us whereby we can uniquely affect others.

God has given us dominion over the earth. (Gen 1.28) Through our sacrifice, obedience, prayer, faith, love and praise, we are changing the world.

As a part of my restoration, I am compelled to thank at least some not previously mentioned... ministers Earlene, Janice, Pat, Steve, George, Beverly, Sylvester, Gwen and James, Richard and Ima, Fletcher and Kathy; brothers Phil, Nate, Brian; sisters Joan, Stephanie, Ollye, Kim, Prim; close friends Susan, Toni; cousins BJ, JoAnn, Carol; my folk group buddies Tom, Fred and Dooley and most importantly Mom and Dad and the Holy Spirit.

Hazel and Gene circa 1945. God made an excellent choice.

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