I was fortunate. I didn't start out in the Body of Christ. I consider myself fortunate for this because I have an experience that is a footprint in my life and that has convinced me personally that the group of people that I have come to, are indeed the people that God is working through and it is here that I belong. I can't speak for everyone of course, I can only tell those things that I have experienced myself.
I will start from the beginning.
My mom's religion:
My mom was 15 years old, had never really attended school, and was part of the Hell's Angels group in her town where she and some other rebellious teens rode motorcycles and drove cars and kicked up dust in their community trying to show how tough they were. She happened to meet a preacher who was having a revival in her town, who invited her to church and she laughed him to scorn. He then made a dare to her. He dared her to come to every night of the revival and told her that "the Lord said" if she did that, she would get saved. She said "you're crazy!" and she just had to prove this sucker to be as wrong as she knew he was.
She therefore made a point to come to every night of the revival, and brought most of her gang with her. They sat in the back the whole week, mocking and making fun. They laughed and mocked, encouraging one another in their audacity to defy God! To make a long story short, the very last night of the revival, her seat became so hot she couldn't sit in it. She commented to her friend that they must have wired the seats! The pastor didn't even start service, he just called for prayer. All the saints were down on their knees and he was calling on the name of Jesus to bind every evil spirit and to loose the captives! She felt something powerful, but she didn't know what it was. All she knew was that it was fearful.
Finally she decided this hot seat and this weird service was just too much for her, and she got up to leave. But when she got to the middle isle at the end of the pew, she looked towards the exit and saw a big skull with cross bones, so she looked towards the pulpit and she saw a vision of Jesus standing with his arms outstretched, nail prints in his hands offering her salvation. Somehow she knew that he was saying that if she didn't take it, her other option was death. She realized for the first time that she was crying, uncontrollably. She didn't remember ever crying before. She ran to the altar and got saved, and filled with the Holy Ghost that night.
The next morning, she found out that her gang and her boyfriend were involved playing chicken late that same night she was getting saved and nobody chickened out, so they had a head on collision that killed 4 gang members. Her boyfriend, whom she would have been with if she had left the church that night instead of getting saved, was beheaded in the accident.
So my mother was saved, and filled with the Holy Ghost and this was her experience with God. She was an ignorant person, who didn't know how to be a woman of God, but she was a praying powerhouse. She received dreams, and visions and encounters with God. She knew God personally, but she didn't know anything about doctrine and she didn't even know how to read. After her salvation, she got a bible and spent the next few years learning how to read by trying to read it.
She was a praying woman and she had visions and received things from the Lord. I would sit at her feet for hours when I was a small child, listening to the things she received from the Lord. She told me of how God told her that she would be a part of the ministry in the latter days, that she would pray for people and they'd be healed and delivered. God told her that she would have to battle demons, and wade through many swampy waters, and learn to walk on serpents and scorpions. God told her that people needed hope and that she and this group of people in this ministry, would be the hope that God would work through to give them. She also told me that the Lord told her that her last fight would be with darkness before she would see great light. She didn't know what everything God told her meant. Most things were hidden to her understanding, but she would wow me with her stories and her visions and dreams. She also told me that I could be a part of it too, if I prayed and asked the Lord to make me a part, and I prayed earnestly for that many times as a very young child.
My dad's religion:
My dad was severely abused as a boy. He remembered being threatened by his mother and severely beaten by his dad. My dad's mom had a deep Native American heritage, but she hated it and burned all her papers and the one thing that would make her really mad was when grandpa would call her "squaw"! She joined the Pentecostal One-ness church, and she was faithful, but she didn't have a personal relationship with God. She did however, feel free to use the doctrine of hell, fire, and brimstone to threaten my dad and to cast fear upon him. But the hell that my dad was experiencing came not from God, but from his earthly father, who would beat him severely and dad remembered being beaten so severely that he passed out and woke up the next day still laying in his own blood.
Needless to say my dad didn't feel loved as a child. The beatings my dad endured must have developed into epilepsy, because dad had spells constantly and they seemed to be getting worse. He said that he knew when one was coming on, because he would see stars and smell certain smells and then he would have another spell.
When my dad was 12 years old, he heard about William Brahnum and where he was having a revival meeting. They told my dad that this man healed people and that he was a miracle worker. My dad wanted to know if there was a God, and if possible he wanted to be healed of his epilepsy, so at 12 years old he hitchhiked to see this man and see if the healings were real.
Dad said that he saw a lady who went up for prayer for a big tumor on her face. He said that Bro. Brahnum put his hand on it and prayed, and the tumor disappeared instantly! Dad was astonished, but then the lady said "Wow, I just can't believe it!" and the tumor re-appeared! Bro. Brahnum said "Lady, God can't heal you without faith! And he said "I'm going to pray for you again, but you have to have faith! Do you understand?" And she said yes. So he prayed for her again and instantly the tumor disappeared! But again the lady said "I know it's gone, but I just can't believe it!" And again the tumor re-appeared. Dad said this happened again the third time before Bro. Brahnum sent her away and said "I'm sorry, but I can't help you if you can't believe".
Dad said that he witnessed a man who had one leg shorter than the other, get prayed for and his leg stretched out to the same length as the other one! There were many great miracles and healings take place that he saw during this meeting. Finally dad's turn in line came and Br. Brahnum asked him what he wanted prayer for and dad said "Epilepsy" and Bro. Brahnum prayed for him and then told him that if he believed he was healed. So dad believed it and went away happy.
A couple of weeks later, dad went out on his back porch and began to see stars and to smell those smells that he smelled when he was about to have a seizure. Dad sat down on the steps of the porch and put his head in his hands and prayed and said "No. Lord I believe you healed me at that revival with Bro. Brahnum. I believe it Lord! I don't have seizures anymore!" And the stars went away and the smell went away and he never had a seizure again in his life!
Dad began contemplating who God was. God, he thought, was good, not evil! Dad rejected the God of his mother who seemed sadistic and evil. His mother was always threatening him with fear: Fear of his dad, fear of hell, and fear of God's wrath. Dad decided that the God that healed him, wasn't a sadistic, evil god. He was a good God. He was a loving God! He was merciful! People were evil, but God was good!
My dad also left home at 12 years old and started hitchhiking across the country, finding work wherever he could find it. He would approach homes and ask if he could mow their grass or do some odd jobs. He got jobs chopping and picking cotton, or picking fruit or any kind of farm hand work. He often slept in barns or wherever he could find to lay his head. When he was 16, he lied about his age and joined the army. In the army, he and the other men talked about God. Some believed in hellfire and brimstone like his mother, and they argued the doctrine. But the more dad argued with them, the more he searched the scriptures to find out what the truth was. And the more he searched, the more he found that indeed, this concept of eternal hell, where God sits over these horrified souls, laughing while they burn in excruiciating pain and agony, was a myth and not based on bible scriptures at all. My dad began to cultivate the idea of God as "the good Lord", and whenever he spoke of God, he used that phrase. It was as if he were identifying the one that he knew, as opposed to the one that his mother taught him about.
Thus my father was on a personal quest to find God, find truth, and find a people who believed the truth and not the myths. Dad went to a lot of churches and usually mom and I would go with him. He studied doctrine. He ordered books from places I'd never heard of before. He found some truth out there, here and there. He found the Jehovah's Witnesses, who don't believe in eternal hell. But when he attended their services, it seemed more like a Sales Meeting than a church service. I think Mom and I went with him once. Their services were focused on the methods and strategies of going door to door in an attempt to create more Jehovah Witnesses. There was no preaching, no singing, no testimonies. So there wasn't anything edifying to the individual in their meetings. Whatever dad was looking for, it wasn't in the Jehovah's Witnesses.
Then he heard about the 7th Day Adventists. They also didn't believe in an eternal hell. They did believe that Saturday was the Sabbath and my dad was open to receive that. He began attending their services also by himself. But one day a few of them came to our home to visit and they told us that there was no such thing as the Holy Ghost with evidence of speaking in tongues and that if mom had it, then mom was demon possessed! Dad really struggled with that, because not only did my mom have the baptism of the Holy Ghost, but at 12 years old dad had experienced a divine healing in a Holy Ghost meeting from a man who spoke in tongues. And to dad, mom's God was good. Mom didn't use her God as a springboard for manipulating and controlling others. So dad didn't find it in the Seventh Day Adventists.
My religion:
As a family therefore, we didn't go to church anywhere regularly. I remember mom wanting to go somewhere to a church, just so we could sing and praise God. So we'd all go and "endure" the hellfire messages just to get to the music part, so we could praise God. But the music was often dull also. Finally when I was about 10 or 11, I told mom I wanted to go to church like my friends did. So she and dad started taking me to an Assembly of God, so I could get involved in a church with their youth groups and activities.
But as a teenager, I wanted to fit in. I wanted to be normal. I didn't understand why we didn't believe in hell and everybody else did! My friends all believed in it! My extended family believed in it! My new church believed in it! The whole world believed in it! Everybody but us! So I started asking my dad why! And I began searching the scriptures myself, because I had to prove to him and mom that they were wrong and thereby fix all our problems of finding a church! I just figured mom and dad just were never taught the normal things that other people are taught, so I would learn them from others and then I would teach mom and dad and we'd all be fine.
So I started asking everybody around me for their scriptures and what they knew about hell. I was actually surprised to find that while they were adamant about the whole concept of hell, and could draw me a detailed picture of it, but had no scriptures to back up any of these ideas. There was only one scripture that they all referred to which was Lazarus and the rich man, but this story I read over and over again.
Every argument that I had heard on it, I rehearsed with conviction to my dad. I would submit all my findings and my best arguments to him but he was never convinced. He always had a scripture or something to refute the idea. And then I'd take his scriptures back to my friends and, during those years I was arguing both sides of the fence! I wanted the truth. I didn't care who was right or wrong, I just wanted to know what was right.
In my teens, I began to want more than just to be a part of the youth and activities. I began to really want to know God for myself. God loved my mom. He was always telling her things and I could feel the presence of God in the house when she prayed. And my dad had his own unique relationship with God. God, to him, was about truth and justice. But I hadn't really had any experience with God personally yet, only through my parents.
Between the years of 15 and 17, I began dating and going up town with my friends, and we had tried "marijuana" and every now and then we did something fun and edgy like drink a beer or something alcoholic. We were smoking cigarettes and wearing makeup, and without any wisdom or knowledge we began making choices about life and self and goals and beliefs. I believed in God and by now I knew that the doctrine of hell was not correct, but all it did for me was to separate me from all of what I called "normal" Christian churches.
When mom would pray, I felt the presence of God in the house. But when I visited churches, I didn't feel His presence. I was wandering, looking for water (the Spirit of God). I was looking for some kind of "experience" that would indicate to me personally that I had found a place where God would show up. Where does one go to meet with God? I wanted audience with him. I knew he existed, but I couldn't feel His Spirit, and I didn't know what He wanted from me in this life He gave me.
I had also been seeking the Holy Ghost for many years, but I still didn't have it. I went to the altar many times, but I didn't feel anything. I tried so hard to feel something. I remember as a young child, going to the altar, thinking about mom and dad dying so that I could cry and feel something, but that didn't cause me to have any experience with God either. I remember hearing the story of Zacheus. I too, just wanted to get a glimpse of Jesus!
About the Holy Ghost baptism:
One church that I visited began telling me that the Holy Ghost was easy, just start speaking it. They said just say "hoo hoo Honda my tie and see me comma", etcetera and that's it! Well, I knew that wasn't my mom's testimony but I also knew that "my" parents were "special" when it came to the things of God. They didn't believe in hell like normal. They didn't do anything normal. So I went to bed pondering what this church told me about the Holy Ghost and that night in bed I decided to try it. So I prayed "oh, hallelujah, see my tie, here's my tie, comma in a Honda, hallelujah, shickama shickama". I didn't feel anything! I felt completely silly! Inside I felt a giggle working! But I was serious and I prayed, "Lord, I'm trying this because they said it was the Holy Ghost and I don't know, so I'm trying it" and I wanted God to sort of answer me in that or something.
That night I had a dream. I dreamed that it was very hot outside and mom and dad had our sprinklers going in our yard. The water was cool and wonderful. My hair was short, the actual length that it was in real life around my neck, but I was very aware of my hair in my dream, as I played in my yard in the sprinklers. Suddenly I noticed in my dream that our neighbors also had their sprinklers on. Our neighbors were evil and I would never play in their yard or have anything to do with them, but in my dream, I went into their yard to play in their sprinklers and when I did, my hair appeared to be very long and beautiful! I was throwing my hair around and enjoying it's length & beauty as I played, but I knew I ought to be in my own yard, so I went back to my yard and my hair was short again. So I went back and forth for a while, trying to capture my hair length in my own yard, but it wouldn't work. So I awoke, and I knew that God was saying that my hair (my glory) wasn't yet filled with the Holy Ghost. But if I played in the neighbor's yard or after the rules of wickedness, then I could "appear" to have long hair. I could pretend to have the Holy Ghost, but it wasn't the right yard, the right way. I certainly wanted the real thing, so I never did that again. But I was so thankful for this dream and for God showing me, because it also let me know that while I was trying desperately to find him, that He knew right where I was at all the time!
Not long later, I was at the altar in the Assembly of God church seeking for the Holy Ghost, and begging God for it. I stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, but I felt absolutely nothing. I couldn't cry, I couldn't feel anything. Finally I had enough and it came to my mind that God doesn't really love me. He loves my mom and he gave her the Holy Ghost, but He's not giving it to me. Right there at the altar, I decided that I would quit trying for the Holy Ghost. This thought and everything else I am about to describe to you took place in a matter of seconds, although it will take more time to describe it.
My eyes were still closed when I had the though and made the decision to stop seeking for the Holy Ghost and I proceeded to put my arms down, open my eyes, and lean on the altar bench to help myself up from this sitting position, and my brain was giving the command to make these very motions, when suddenly I saw an image of a man sitting on a throne with his hands on the arms of the throne chair and he burst through a cloud as it parted, coming straight towards me! And in my mind I said "WOW!" That was all I said in my mind. "WOW!" And the vision was over.
Immediately after the vision was over, I realized that I had said something and I heard myself say it! It was not English and I did not know what it meant. I had heard this phrase before from a lady in our assembly who spoke in tongues! She said this almost every time she spoke in tongues. The syllables were "Hun-dee-eye-see-kye". I had not "tried" to say that. I was not even aware that I had said that, until after I remembered what I heard myself say! All I thought was "WOW!" but it came out that phrase! I didn't know what to do.
The vision was gone. People around me were rejoicing, because I was seeking for the Holy Ghost and I just spoke in tongues! I felt embarrassed. I was afraid that someone would think that I was copying this sister who I'd heard say that before! I decided years prior that I would not pretend to speak in tongues, so I was perhaps over-sensitive about other thinking that this might be the case. But I knew it was a true experience, and I was flabbergasted by the vision and resulting tongues that came.
After that experience, I relaxed my feeling of need to receive the baptism of the Holy Ghost, confused that I must surely already have it, although I didn't regularly speak in tongues or anything. I didn't speak in tongues again until years later, after that initial experience.
The Turning Point:
The world began to pull on me more and more and I won't go into a lot of that, but I will say that it got to the place that I knew I had to make a decision for the Lord, but not having a church to go to, was a big hindrance for me. Nevertheless, one Wednesday night at the Assembly of God, I very formally went to the altar and gave my life to Christ and made a suitable display/show of purpose to God of my hopes and intentions. I wanted to be saved! I was trying.
The next day I met a friend I hadn't seen in years. She was a Christian. She told me about a revival she was going to be attending starting Sunday. She invited me to come stay with her the week and go to the revival. I felt this must be the Lord for me, so I eagerly said yes. Before the revival, she was supposed to meet a man that called himself a prophet. He said that he had some things to tell her and he wanted to meet with her after church. I prayed during the whole service that this prophet would tell me something. I didn't care what he said, if God would just acknowledge me and let me know that He was there and that these longings I have for God are being received by Him.
Well that night after church, we met that prophet in his home and he prophesied to me that God had chosen me, that I was called, and that I would play the piano and sing and touch many people. He said that I had power in my hands and when he said that, my hands immediately tingled and scared me, and I said "Stop" and it stopped instantly! I don't remember all that he said, but he confirmed things that my mother had told me when I was a young child. And he let me know that He heard me, He was leading me, that He chose me, and He loved me! Just to be chosen, is worth it all!
I went back home that first night and I was elated to tell my mother all that I had received! We went on to the revival and I was on cloud 9 the whole time! I couldn't stop thinking about the prophesies and what God may have in store for me. I still felt nothing in church, but I was hopeful for the first time! After that revival, there was another one somewhere else and my friend and I decided to attend that one as well. I received nothing at either revival, but I was looking for another "experience" or something.
I went home at the end of that week and my friend came with me. It was a Friday and mom and dad were getting dressed for church. Dad had been arguing with a guy at work about the doctrine of hell and the guy said "You sound like that Bill Bass" , and dad said "Who's that?" The man said he's a preacher here in Paragould. He don't believe in hell either! Dad said "Do you know the name and address of the church?" Mom and dad were getting dressed, just about to go check it out. My dad said "The guy said he don't believe in hell, but they do believe in the baptism of the Holy Ghost!" I was intrigued, but Mom and dad were excited! We were about to attend our first service in the Body of Jesus Christ!
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