MarkM again
Snake Lord, sorry about your loss. I came to faith in Jesus Christ as Lord when I was 10. My parents divorced and I was living with my dad. He was raised Catholic but didn't really believe and did not practice his faith. My mother left him and he was devastated. On the way home one night he tried to kill himself by racing his car and then turning off the road into some trees at a high speed. To make a long story short, the steering wheel would not turn no matter how hard he tried. He came home and for the first time in many years he cried, and cried out to God (in whom he knew virtually nothing about). Jesus appeared in the flesh to him and he was a believer from that day to today. He did not tell me the story until about 5 years ago as I enquired about why he told me about Jesus when I was 10. My dad cried as he told me the story. He is a hardcore marine and never had I ever seen him cry until that day and never since. So I know he was not bullshitting.
All I remember is him telling me the basics. God loves me, Jesus died for my sins, He's forgiven me, and that if I was ever in need because of trouble/danger and no one was there to help me-to cry out to Him and He would be there.
A year later I was in trouble and cried out and He came through in flat out phenomenon. Soon after that it happened again (serious trouble) and again He came through. And so on through my life.
I mostly lived with my mother who was an atheist through my childhood. Her heart has changed reciently. So I did not have a Christian upbringing at all. No church and all that. No, mostly all I had was anger, rebellion and trouble. But God has been faithful to prove Himself to me year after year.
No one could ever convince me that He does not exist because I have seen Him and know Him.
Let me give you one more true and recent experience from Africa. I got Malaria and had a 105-106 fever and was close to dying. Many pastors (friends) prayed for me and I did not get well. I was brought to Kampala from a place called Masaka (the epicenter of AIDS in the world) and it was a 6 hour drive. They barely got me to town in time. They helped me into my friend Osborn's home and onto a bed while they made arrangements to get me to the nurse. While I was on the bed in total misery a little orphan boy (12 yrs old) named Moses came in and saw me. He said "Oh, Uncle Mark, are you OK?" I mumbled "No". Then he left the room. All of a sudden I heard The Lord say to me "Have Moses pray for you". So I mumbled out "Moses" and he came back (he was just outside the door cleaning). I said "Will you pray for me?" (I was so sick and in so much pain and misery that I could care a less who did it, I just needed help). He said "Me, pray for you?" (You have to realize that in Ugandan culture children are like servants and they are not talked too much or considered very important) So he was a bit stunned that I would ask him. I said "Yes". He came over to me as I was laying on my back on the bed (shaking from the severe fever and feeling like a truck had run me over and I had a migraine like headache) He said to me "Mark, do you have faith?" I had been in Uganda long enough to know that they do not mess with words. They say what they mean. And their conversation pace allows long pauses to really get to the heart of your answer. I paused long and hard. The first thing I thought was "no". But then I went deeper into myself to see if there was any faith at all. I came to the point of my very, very small faith. It was this: I KNOW there is a God and that He is able to do anything he wants, but weather or not He will heal me, I don't know. So I considered it smaller than a mustard seed (a fraction of a fraction) Regardless of how small it was I decided to say yes. Then after I said "Yes", he put his hand on my forehead and began to pray the most beautiful words I have almost ever heard. Funny, because he could speak very little English. I remember thinking "I have got to get this on my cassette recorder to remember those beautiful words" then suddenly I felt something going into my head from where his hand was. This sensation captivated my attention so much that I did not know that Moses left the room quickly after praying. The feeling was awesome! and it just kept moving inside me, slowly, all the way down to my feet. When it reached my feet I opened my eyes and noticed Moses had left the room. All this took about 3-4 minutes. Then I noticed I was feeling better. I sat up, but was afraid to believe that this was a miracle because if I believed and then became sick again then I know my little faith would have been lost completely. But I slowly moved around a little and slowly realized that I was 100% well. At the very moment that I realized this, my wife comes in the door and sees me and asks me if I am ready to go to the nurse. I jumped up and said yes! (I thought "what the heck, I might as well get the shots just in case"). But all the way to the clinic as we were driving down the road I was laughing and joking and feeling better than I ever have in my life.
When I got home that evening Moses (who did not know what had happened to me) pulled me aside and told me (in somewhat broken English) that when he began praying, all of a sudden it was like he was not speaking but The Lord spoke through him, and that he felt power go through his hand. I just praised The Lord. I personally have no reason to lie. It is two in the morning and I have a wonderful wife in bed in the other room, so why would I waste my time typing for hours on end? I want you all to know the goodness of God Almighty.
Snake Lord, sorry about your loss. I came to faith in Jesus Christ as Lord when I was 10. My parents divorced and I was living with my dad. He was raised Catholic but didn't really believe and did not practice his faith. My mother left him and he was devastated. On the way home one night he tried to kill himself by racing his car and then turning off the road into some trees at a high speed. To make a long story short, the steering wheel would not turn no matter how hard he tried. He came home and for the first time in many years he cried, and cried out to God (in whom he knew virtually nothing about). Jesus appeared in the flesh to him and he was a believer from that day to today. He did not tell me the story until about 5 years ago as I enquired about why he told me about Jesus when I was 10. My dad cried as he told me the story. He is a hardcore marine and never had I ever seen him cry until that day and never since. So I know he was not bullshitting.
All I remember is him telling me the basics. God loves me, Jesus died for my sins, He's forgiven me, and that if I was ever in need because of trouble/danger and no one was there to help me-to cry out to Him and He would be there.
A year later I was in trouble and cried out and He came through in flat out phenomenon. Soon after that it happened again (serious trouble) and again He came through. And so on through my life.
I mostly lived with my mother who was an atheist through my childhood. Her heart has changed reciently. So I did not have a Christian upbringing at all. No church and all that. No, mostly all I had was anger, rebellion and trouble. But God has been faithful to prove Himself to me year after year.
No one could ever convince me that He does not exist because I have seen Him and know Him.
Let me give you one more true and recent experience from Africa. I got Malaria and had a 105-106 fever and was close to dying. Many pastors (friends) prayed for me and I did not get well. I was brought to Kampala from a place called Masaka (the epicenter of AIDS in the world) and it was a 6 hour drive. They barely got me to town in time. They helped me into my friend Osborn's home and onto a bed while they made arrangements to get me to the nurse. While I was on the bed in total misery a little orphan boy (12 yrs old) named Moses came in and saw me. He said "Oh, Uncle Mark, are you OK?" I mumbled "No". Then he left the room. All of a sudden I heard The Lord say to me "Have Moses pray for you". So I mumbled out "Moses" and he came back (he was just outside the door cleaning). I said "Will you pray for me?" (I was so sick and in so much pain and misery that I could care a less who did it, I just needed help). He said "Me, pray for you?" (You have to realize that in Ugandan culture children are like servants and they are not talked too much or considered very important) So he was a bit stunned that I would ask him. I said "Yes". He came over to me as I was laying on my back on the bed (shaking from the severe fever and feeling like a truck had run me over and I had a migraine like headache) He said to me "Mark, do you have faith?" I had been in Uganda long enough to know that they do not mess with words. They say what they mean. And their conversation pace allows long pauses to really get to the heart of your answer. I paused long and hard. The first thing I thought was "no". But then I went deeper into myself to see if there was any faith at all. I came to the point of my very, very small faith. It was this: I KNOW there is a God and that He is able to do anything he wants, but weather or not He will heal me, I don't know. So I considered it smaller than a mustard seed (a fraction of a fraction) Regardless of how small it was I decided to say yes. Then after I said "Yes", he put his hand on my forehead and began to pray the most beautiful words I have almost ever heard. Funny, because he could speak very little English. I remember thinking "I have got to get this on my cassette recorder to remember those beautiful words" then suddenly I felt something going into my head from where his hand was. This sensation captivated my attention so much that I did not know that Moses left the room quickly after praying. The feeling was awesome! and it just kept moving inside me, slowly, all the way down to my feet. When it reached my feet I opened my eyes and noticed Moses had left the room. All this took about 3-4 minutes. Then I noticed I was feeling better. I sat up, but was afraid to believe that this was a miracle because if I believed and then became sick again then I know my little faith would have been lost completely. But I slowly moved around a little and slowly realized that I was 100% well. At the very moment that I realized this, my wife comes in the door and sees me and asks me if I am ready to go to the nurse. I jumped up and said yes! (I thought "what the heck, I might as well get the shots just in case"). But all the way to the clinic as we were driving down the road I was laughing and joking and feeling better than I ever have in my life.
When I got home that evening Moses (who did not know what had happened to me) pulled me aside and told me (in somewhat broken English) that when he began praying, all of a sudden it was like he was not speaking but The Lord spoke through him, and that he felt power go through his hand. I just praised The Lord. I personally have no reason to lie. It is two in the morning and I have a wonderful wife in bed in the other room, so why would I waste my time typing for hours on end? I want you all to know the goodness of God Almighty.
