“It was an incident that was drug related… A person would call a ‘bad trip’… upset with everything that moved. It was that I found myself driving into a cemetary, when the cemetary was closed, and the gates where closed. So the only way into the cemetary was through the gates. So that’s where I ended up, driving through the gates. And it was like I was having a connection or a spiritual encounter. I guess what we called it at church it’s… I was going through… feeling that it was, I was in the rapture. So when I was in the cemetary I was driving my car through there and was like angels or things coming out of the ground… people coming out of the ground. I’m not into the church yet, I’m barely, I’m just trying to find my way. And then all the sudden I know that I have so much illegal stuff in my pocket. What am I gonna do?”
Bro. Jesse D recently shared the testimony of God’s process in his life, changing him and bringing him to salvation.
When I walked down the empty corridor, the bare floor seemed to stretch on forever. Nearby, the clicks of my mother’s shoes rang sharply in my ears. When I opened the large metal door, my senses were immediately flooded by a pungent, stale stench. In front of me were rows of steel stools and bulletproof transparent windows. As I stood molded against the wall, my body shuddered, yet I hid behind a cover of indissoluble emotion. A short, stocky man with a close-shaved haircut, wearing pale blue overalls approached a window. Tears came to my eyes, but my feet remained stationed in place. My mother walked over to a steel stool and took a seat. When she picked up the receiver, I watched as an array of emotions swept across her face. After a few minutes of conversation, she motioned me over. Slowly, I lifted one leg and then the other. At the window, I stared across at a face which I had adored my whole life.
“Hello, mija,” he said casually. With those words, the torrent of tears that pressed against closed lids released a single trickle down my stricken face. Why? I asked myself. Why did our family reunion have to take place in this remote prison cell? Why was I crying? You have been through this many times; I tried convincing myself. What is the difference now? Nevertheless, my heart gave way at the sight of my father, three feet in front of me, separated by the glass partition. “Hello, daddy,” I said at last. Read More »
Twenty-two years ago, I was born into a Pentecostal home. I was raised in church and at the age of three, I received the Holy Ghost. I was baptized when I was four in the name of Jesus after I explained to my pastor why I wanted to be baptized and was able to tell him the steps of salvation. I had a real love for God deep in my heart.
As I got older, life changed, as it always seems to do. My sister got married and moved to California for good when I was thirteen. That same year, I started junior high at a really rough school. I know you all think, “How could a school in Wisconsin be rough?” But, it was. It was a really small school, about 500 people including the staff, but there still were the guns, the drugs, the gangs, everything. I watched one of my friends get his head kicked in on the front steps before school one morning. Another one of my friends had two kids by the time she was 14.
During this time, my parents started having problems. They tried to be there for me, but they had their own problems to worry about, and I started shutting them out of my life. Unfortunately, instead of turning to God as my refuge during these times, I turned to guys instead. I still loved God, but guys became more important to me than what He was. Read More »
I consider my up bringing as average and middle class. My mother grew up in a Presbyterian church and my father in an Episcopal church. My brother and I were not really raised going to any church. We probably attended less than 15 actual church services or Sunday school classes growing up. During the few times I attended a church I was taught that Jesus who was born miraculously was the Son of God, that he died on a cross for my sins and rose from the dead three days later. And that if I believed in him I would go to heaven and if I didn’t that I would go to hell. At least that’s how I understood whatever I was taught. As I got older I decided I didn’t believe that. And also that I didn’t believe in religion because there were so many religions and they all claimed they were right and the others were wrong. Because of that, they all seemed the same to me. All of them seemed to be of man and not of God.
What I did believe was that God existed, that there was only one God, and he could do anything he wanted to. I believed He knew all, saw all, and heard all. I would pray to God sometimes, and I believed he heard me because he heard everything. So I went on with life and lived with this kind of belief about God and religion.
When I was about 11 my best friend and I started getting in a lot of trouble together. We started by ditching school and getting involved with people that were into drugs. I was greatly influenced at that time by teens that were just a few years older than me. They were into skateboarding, tagging, drinking smoking, using drugs, backyard keg parties, and other crimes and ungodly things. But at the impressionable age I was, I looked up to them. To make a long story short, from the time I was about 12 to 16 years old, I smoked cigarettes and marijuana, drank, and I got arrested a number of times for vandalism. My mentality at that time was very backwards. I didn’t care about education. I didn’t want to go to school, and I really didn’t care about my life or my future. Read More »
I would like to share my story with you hoping that somehow it will be a blessing to your life. As a child I went through several experiences that influenced my direction. Being born in Los Angeles, California, into a poor Hispanic family, I witnessed my father’s alcoholism, constant fighting with my mom, and serious threats and abuse, ended up in our family splitting up. I ended up going to drugs at an early age of 7 years old. I had so much anger and pain locked up inside and no way to get it out. My parents got divorced and it broke my heart. My mother just left. She left me when I was 12 years old and the very same day I felt my whole person just lock up inside me. I really needed her love and affirmation but she was just gone.
I went to gang banging and a life of crime so full of hurt… so full of anger… I needed love. That road got tougher and tougher by the minute. I got arrested at the age of 12 years old for vagrancy and gang activity, which took three whole months in Sylmar Juvenile hall. I thought I was never going to get out. I was back in 3 weeks. I became a constant prisoner in and out of jail until I was 18 years old.
Central Juvenile Hall, Los Padrinos Juvenile Hall, Camp Gonzales in Calabasas, Camp Smith in Lancaster, Camp Resnick, Camp Onasuka, Camp Jarvis, Camp so and so, Camp so and so… I did so much violence in the times that I was out, I did so much drugs, so much anger… so much pain… And my mom… was nowhere to be seen. I ended up running the streets living a miserable empty life full of problems and severe mistakes. I didn’t have much to look forward to in life and I wasn’t even a grown up yet. My brother and I took to a serious life of gang banging and illegal misconduct. The court system ended up refilling my case due to me getting into too many fights… I just felt numb… I WAS A CRIMINAL… I WAS A PRISONER. Read More »
