Text

A Privileged Life

Eliana's Testimony

It all started with a knock at the door. My mom and dad met in 1981, dated and lived together for seven tumultuous years before they decided to marry. My mom and DJ dad lived a very crazy life that consisted of disco dancing parties, and drugs.

My dad finally asked my mom to marry him on their seventh year of their relationship, and my sister, Adrianne, was five years of age. Although my mom wanted a quick wedding at the courthouse, my dad ended up turning it into a crazy Mexican wedding. They were married at a Catholic church by a Hispanic priest. My mom and dad did not understand a word he said, but my mom was happy knowing that they were going to be right in the eyes of God. They were finally married.

As the years went by, my mom started desperately seeking God because she knew they needed a spiritual, solid foundation not only for their marriage, but for my sister as well. Read More »

Bro. Booker’s Testimony – The Short Version

Pastor Larry Booker's Testimony

Pastor Larry Booker
Pastor Booker before and after coming to God
Email this to a friend

I was born in 1952 and lived in Colorado, mainly in the city of Pueblo. My mother raised my older brother and me by herself. At times we were reduced to very dire circumstances. My mother married my step-father when I was in fourth grade. He adopted us, and my mother, loved, cared, and provided for all of our needs. I have no complaints or sad tales from that point on concerning my upbringing.
In spite of all my parent’s efforts, when I reached my teen years I “spinned out” as did so many young people of the Sixties era. From the age of 14 until nineteen, my life became completely captivated by the drugs, alcohol, rock music, and rebellion that earmarked that generation. Read More »

Daddy In The Grandstands

Vivian's Testimony

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.

Vivian and her father
Vivian with her dad
Email this to a friend

“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 »

More In "Text" »