Encountering the Divine – Part IV ( So… who is this guy Jesus? Is he really the Son of God?)

Warning! If you’re brand new here, an existential crisis may occur if you read this series! #Justsaying. To ease your heart palpitations into it, I highly advise you read the first three parts before venturing further. Links here: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.  Alas , do as you must.  Recurring readers, welcome back! This roller-coaster is about to take a 90 degree drop!

During roughly the period 2008 to 2010 I started experiencing “divine” or “supernatural” dreams, if you will; much like the one with my grandmother years earlier. There weren’t many, a handful at most, and they usually didn’t occur in close proximity to one another. However, they were very distinct from normal dreams; those I hardly ever remember a few hours after waking up. Obviously, over the years, my detailed memory of them has faded; but key elements I can still remember well. Here’s one such recollection:

I was running through a corridor which was surrounded by a purple-like haze, I could feel I was being followed by a dark shadow. It had the outline of a hooded figure. I was terrified and in despair. I didn’t utter any words but I felt that evil presence had a name. It’s like I knew it was Satan without saying it. It’s hard to describe, but it was so real that I felt like I was there, desperately trying to find a way out. The large shadow was gaining ground on me, eventually hovered over me and was about to engulf me completely when two white doors burst open and a radiant white light blinded me and the entire corridor!! I instinctively exclaimed “Jesus!” as my fear turned into awe. In that moment I felt a divine presence go inside my body through my chest and penetrate my heart! I awoke gasping for air; it was like something burst within my chest cavity and my physical body instinctively reacted and resisted this foreign presence… Tears burst out of my eyes as I felt a fiery release within my heart. The rush of energy felt like fire gushing into my soul, the same fire I felt years earlier when my grandmother hugged me in her dream. It was God’s Holy Spirit, it shielded me from the incoming darkness and then it’s like my spirit/consciousness went back into my body, causing it to awaken. The abrupt transition between the spiritual dream world and the physical realm provoked my body to gasp for breath; once I caught hold of it, I lay there mesmerized by the remnants of the fiery sensation that was still running through my body. I just knew God’s presence had touched me and had been in my room. That’s the best way I can describe it. I didn’t want the sensation to end and wanted to fall back asleep so I could experience it again. The prior fear I had felt before the white light shocked me into consciousness was completely replaced by an emotional mesh of amazement, awestruckness, and utter euphoria!

Peculiar things started happening at the Hispanic church circa the time we got back from Orlando. Rumors were afloat that the prophets were being stripped of their gifting by God. Meaning, the Holy Spirit was starting to no longer speak through some of them. Yea, bear with me. I was confused too. Lolita and Helen were a bit more active in the church and shared this information with me. Supposedly, even the founder Marie Louise was scheduled to visit Miami and visit the church leaders. From my limited understanding at that point, God can anoint you with the prophetic gifting and he can also take it away if he so chooses — if it’s not used according to his purpose. After all, people with this gifting are flawed humans like everyone else. I mean imagine, you can really screw with people if you’re known to have this gifting and suddenly use it for your own gain or start to tell people things that aren’t really from God’s spirit, but from your own mind! How does one even know the difference? Don’t ask me, I don’t have such an ability. All I knew at that point was that the things that had been spoken to me by the people who had prophesied over me had come true. Like I stated in Part 2, I got a different person each time. Upon hearing these rumors, I grew fearful and untrusting of receiving prophesies at the end of each service. Which of course, was optional…but it had been a bit of a habit after 3 months. Lolita, Helen, and I started praying to God each time before we received prophesies that he protect our mind from any lies and help us forget anything that wasn’t true. One Sunday, within a short, seemingly under 2 minute prophesy that I received; I clearly remembered the following statement:

“You will live again for a period of time in the land you were born.”

I met my friends outside of the conference center after service. I was laughing cynically; I had never come out of this church feeling that way before. It sounded so ludicrous that told them “I think I got my first false prophet today! There’s no way that person was speaking from God’s spirit. There is no way that I’ll ever live in El Paso/Juarez again. Over my dead body that I’ll end up in that stink-hole again.” Can you tell I wasn’t very fond of my homeland? The sentiment hasn’t changed much current day but I’m not as harsh. It has its own unique beauty I suppose, if you like dirt. He he. I love the people though!

Oh btw, around 9 months later I ended up being proven wrong. I found myself having to move back home. #footinmouth (More on that later)

Around the same time the false prophet rumor started circling in church, I received this pertinent prophesy:

“I brought you and your friends here and have spoken to you through prophets to grow your faith, much like newborns needing to be bottle-fed. Your time here is drawing to an end. I will no longer speak to you through prophets. But I will be with you. Be vigilant, I will continue speak to you through the signs I send you and through my Word.”

I recall even having a few of my gay friends visiting the Hispanic church on two separate occasions before I completely stopped attending. The prophesy thing got them curious. I remember they showed up late for service and basically just made it for the prophecy segment — they missed the worship and sermon. I don’t recall whatever was said to them making much of an impact on them. I remember feeling frustrated, I wanted them to experience what I had, but how could they? They were at different stages of their spiritual journey then where I was back then. In actuality, I don’t believe theirs had even started nor where they seeking it yet. Over the years I’ve learned to let go of my expectations from others and just follow my path. You could read all of this and get absolutely nothing from it. Another person it may change their entire perception of how they see the world. I don’t know, that’s between you and God. I have no control over that. My job is to relate what I experienced.

Geez, even before the false prophet red flags— around Feb, Lolita and Helen started simultaneously visiting another church in Doral, a suburb in Miami that wasn’t as far from us like the Hispanic church in Hialeah. The congregation there was mainly Caucasian. I can’t recall the name, but I’m pretty sure it was part of a large church network named Assemblies of God. It was a whole different vibe from the one we had been attending. I joined Helen and Lola a few times, unsure if I wanted to be bouncing back from one place to another. But then again, I wasn’t really committed to where I was going either. Especially after God indicated the time in Hialeah was coming to a close. (Not that I knew when they would be exactly.) There were no prophesy segments during service at this new church. In fact as time went by and I started checking out different places I slowly realized that the Hispanic church I went to was not the “norm”. I kind of figured all Christians must do the same rituals. Au contraire, mon ami, in the past 8 years I’ve never come in contact since with a church community that practices or openly talks about God speaking through modern–day prophets. Not that I’ve intently sought out something similar to that either. (I’m sure there are others out there) But it was not happen-stance that I was led to that Hispanic Pentecostal church as the first pit stop in my spiritual journey. I distinctly recall one day after service Helen looked at me, smiled, and blurted out “I now see light around you”

“Eh Q Mi??” I thought. (That’s Cuban slang for “excuse me?” Yes, my Spanish accent fluctuated all over Latin America while living in Miami) She stated that before there was a gray/dark color surrounding my aura but that now I emitted light. As usual, I was a bit puzzled, but upon further reflection later I realized that I did feel different from months earlier when I was in Europe with my dad or when I first started attending the church. There wasn’t as much chaos in my life anymore. Despite the internal hardships I still faced, it’s as if there wasn’t as much weight on my soul. There were now moments of natural, non-chemically produced joy. I actually now knew there was a difference between feeling naturally happy vs. just being “happy” high on drugs. I didn’t feel depressed or thought like a pessimist all the time anymore. I was intrigued by my sudden realization that people who can see into the spiritual realm, are able to see something different in those that God touches or marks. Make a mental Post-It of this excerpt; it’ll come in handy in a bit.

---

I stopped completely attending the Hispanic church approximately around March. By that time, I had developed enough nerve to check out a couple of different churches on my own without Lolita and Helen. One I came upon was South Beach ministries, a church with a small group of people that met in Miami Beach on the 2^nd floor suite of an office building. (I think I just googled the place and summoned some courage and went) Not a location where I’d expect a “church” to meet. However, it was way smaller and more intimate and up my alley than a large cathedral with pews or hotel conference center with folding chairs. I slowly started realizing a church is supposed to be more about a community of people rather than a building. There weren’t any prophecies there or anything abnormal. There was just a simple two-piece band made up of a drummer and the worship leader who sang and played guitar; their jam session was followed by the pastor’s teaching. The people for the most part seemed to all know one another; quite an eclectic mix for a smaller group (varied from 30 to 50 people I’m guessing). There was even a man who cross dressed and was welcomed as is the few times I saw him. People called him by his preferred name: Cookie. I brought him up once in a brief conversation with the pastor after service. The pastor’s name was Mario. I was trying to discern what his true feelings were towards Cookie. He stated to me that his constant pursuit was to foster an environment where everyone felt welcomed and loved AS IS; not judged. He came off very sincere and I appreciated his frame of thinking. (It made me feel welcome) I didn’t feel anonymous here—for the most part everyone was approachable, someone would always say hi to me or start up a conversation. It was hard to walk in and bolt out unnoticed like my usual tendency. A few times, I even accepted invitations to go have brunch after service with people. What? Me put myself in situations to meet new people? And with Christians?? Madness!! The audacity! Sounds funny now, but you don’t understand — I was that socially awkward and guarded. It was a big step for me. Lolita and Helen sometimes came to services with me there soon after I first scoped it out. I kind of liked the change, especially the part of the service being in English.

Early on, I recall being invited by Pastor Mario to have lunch during the week and I shared a bit of my story with him. He was Cuban (prob around mid-40s), sported a goatee, a tattoo on his arm (of an anchor maybe?) — he looked like your stereotypical macho Latino dude (I constantly have to relearn the lesson to not judge a book by its cover). Most of the time Mario wore a white, priest-like collar with his shirts: which I remember were always either “guayaberas” or Hawaiian. (Guayaberas are a distinct button up shirt with four pockets traditionally worn in Latin America)He dressed very casual, sharp contrast from the suit wearing pastor from the Hispanic church. Hmm…peculiar fashion taste I thought to myself. But hey, he was a pastor; he wasn’t vying for a spot on America’s Next Top Model. I have an eye for fashion so I do take notice of what people wear at times. Mentally, I deducted points for his fashion sense. (Shallow of me, I know lol.) Like I’ve mentioned, subconsciously I was always looking for a reason to not like a church. It was either too many white people, too many Hispanic people, not enough diversity, the people or the pastor dress too formal, too casual, I didn’t like the pastor’s tone of voice, etc etc. (You get the picture) Mario had a wife and two kids; they seemed to be a modest, hard-working, middle-class family. (I also had a stereotype that all pastors were crooks and filthy rich. Mario and his wife definitely weren’t ballers or in it for the money.) My preconceived judgments aside, he was very real and kind to me and someone who I needed to meet at that point in my journey. All of those months at the Hispanic church and I had never met anyone that I could just talk with about my new-found faith and ask questions to one- on- one. Now I wanted to study the Bible further and make peace with this whole gay thing that just wouldn’t stop nagging me. He gifted me a Bible that was in a more modern vernacular then the one I owned; plus it was in my dominant language: English.( I still have it to this day; poor thing is falling apart though) God would use that lunch conversation with him to point me to the next person in my quest for answers…

---

Just because I stopped attending that Hispanic church doesn’t mean the prophecies spoken to me wouldn’t come to fruition anymore.

“I will resolve a debt your father has.”

After hearing this prophesy, I wondered for a bit, what trouble did my dad get himself into? What isn’t he telling me? What was I going to say, call him up and be like “Dad, God told me via prophesy that you have some kind of debt. What is it in reference to?” Eventually it slipped my mind. However, flash forward many weeks later, I’m no longer attending the Hispanic church  — I receive a call from my mother whom shared that my father had met up with “Mr. T”. It’s around March of 2008; my dad had re-grown a fresh set of hair, had gained some healthy weight, and even leased a new Dodge Nitro. Nothing like a new car to get one’s spirits up right? God had saved him a second time from cancer and it seemed like he was starting a new healthier chapter in his life. Amidst the soul searching I was undergoing in Florida, I had peace with things being “normal’ and chill back home. No drama equals two thumbs up for me.

My mother elaborated further. “So Mr. T asked your father when he thought he would be able to resume his job duties again.” Mind you, my father, who had always been a good provider to my mother and I, had no retirement savings. So he knew the time to go back to work would come again once he recuperated. But the underlined motive for Mr. T’s visit was another. He proceeded to ask my dad “so when are you going to repay me the debt from Europe? The money I lent you for renting the private ambulance jet?” My jaw nearly dropped to the floor as my mother described this encounter. Somehow I had forgotten about that debt amidst all the previous 6 months of trials. I was like … yea, damn, we still owe Mr. T $65,000! If it weren’t for him, my dad would have never made it out of Europe and he would have died there without treatment. It’s just something that hadn’t been discussed since the whole Germany ordeal given that it took about 4 months for my dad to even be in a state of dealing with other issues besides his lymphoma. My dad replied to him “You know I’m ready to start working again now. Even if it takes the rest of my life, I’ll repay you that debt.” Mr. T sat for a bit and replied with something that probably was beyond the scope of anyone’s expectations. “Never mind, just forget it, you don’t owe me anything.”

Now Mr. T was a businessman, I’m sure giving handing outs for that amount was not his norm. He initially said no when I had asked him from Europe to lend us the money. Then something changed his mind. Who knows if he had already planned to forgive my dad’s debt before he met up with him? Or was it a spur of the moment decision? I’ll never know. Regardless, I am eternally grateful for his kindness towards my father and me. But God was at work there too, he softened the man’s heart. He foretold it way before it happened! Suddenly, the prophecy jolted back into my mind and it all clicked. “Mom! God was behind this! He spoke this to me weeks ago! This was the debt that he was referring to!!” She just listened and stayed speechless on the other side of the line.

---

“You will receive a visit from a friend. She will not arrive when you expect her too, but fear not, she will come.”

I can’t remember if I knew at that point that my best friend Valerie was going to visit me from Mexico. (More than likely yes) Weeks later when she was scheduled to arrive, due to inclement weather, her flight was cancelled and couldn’t catch another one. I remember being bummed, I needed a good friend outside of my small Miami circle to just let loose with. However, as the prophecy foretold, luckily, she was able to readjust her schedule and fly out a few days later than expected.

Valerie and I first met in the 3^rd grade. We were nemeses as children though. Went to the same elementary but she was much bigger and taller than I was. Then again, most girls were. I was a short little skinny runt who pestered her. Well according to her. I saw her as one of the many boy & girl bullies that were out to get me in elementary. I guess other kids couldn’t stand that I always had the latest Reebok pumps/ Air Jordans and the most perfect side part. (So I was slightly spoiled. He he) Plus I had the look of a perfect angel with glasses. But really, I was. I guess I was already a little nerdy by elementary and a prime target. Valerie had a sidekick: Chong. Present day I lovingly refer this duo as Cheech and Chong. Nooooo, not because they’re stoners; I actually can’t say why on here. Let’s just say they’re quite hilarious. “Chong’s” name is actually Isabel. Isabel was a bit shorter than Valerie — although, her hair brought her around the same height. Yes, indeed, this was the late 80s/early 90s. So you could say the Diana Ross look was in for some girls at the time. Lol. Ok, if Chong reads this, next time she sees me she will give me a high five. IN MY FACE. WITH A CHAIR. No really, she does not like being reminded of her 80s look (which extended well into the 90s). If you’re reading this, you know I love you!!! In the words of Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, “I kid I kid”. C’mon, we all looked dismal in those retro glamour shots/school pics. I recall one of mine. Denim shirt and same denim color jeans. Uggh. The horror.

So back to my story, Cheech and Chong and I were arch nemesis in elementary. I befriended another lone wolf from my class, Nick. He was super tall and skinny. We were like the movie Twins: DeVito and Schwarzenegger. Although I wasn’t plump like DeVito. (It’s funny because present-day it’s a role reversal with another good buddy of mine who’s shorter. He’s DeVito. Don’t tell him I said that though) Nick sometimes defended me from Cheech’s claws and chased her and Chong away. He was kind of mean though, I think he would punch Valerie from time to time. Looking back, it was quite hilarious. The struggle was real as children though. You had to learn to survive the treacherous interlude of daily life called recess. I was safe around Nick or the times I’d get invited by the other boys to go play sports. Which I always sucked at, but I still always gave it my best shot. I’d have my occasional miracle catch in football or make a basket while playing hoops. (When they actually passed the ball my way. Ha. Or you know, the ball would hit me in the face and would bend my coke-bottle glasses) #awkward

By the end of fifth grade we all parted our separate ways, as I changed schools since boys were no longer allowed at this particular Catholic institution for middle school. (Good riddens, I remember a crazy nun hitting my hands with a ruler) I stayed friends for a few years with Nick since he lived near my neighborhood in Mexico. I’ve lost touch with him since. Isabel and Valerie I didn’t see for nearly a decade, until one day, I ran into them on a dance floor while still underage and 17 at a happening club in Juarez, Mexico called Amazonas. In other words, the Amazon. (My buddy Arturo and I would get in with our fake IDS, but boy I struggled to convince the bodyguards since I looked 12.) Picture Rainforest Cafe with a huge dance floor in the middle and video screen overlooking it. The dance floor had two sections, the ground level part and an upper deck that had stairways leading to the second floor of the club. You can imagine when we caught each other’s eyes on the dance floor through the veil of smoke and strobe lights. I know you’re picturing a scene from the Good, The Bad, and the Ugly with that old western showdown song playing in the background; slowly clutching at our pistols from their holsters, getting ready to draw. Would have made it more epic, but no— I didn’t immediately recognize them to be honest. They spotted me a tad second first and yelled “Ricardo! I stared blankly at them for a moment until finally my brain clicked (recognized Isabel 1^st) and the emotion of joy surprisingly emitted from my neuropathways in response to this unprecedented encounter.

They claim I was dancing to this song doing the moves from the 20 second mark of this clip…  heh

(OMG, the clothes!) smh

My version of the story (The accurate one) I was giving my dance interpretation of the following 90s Latin American club staple. Flash forward to the 42 second mark.

(Yes, I totally owned shiny shirts like that one)

Regardless of how it went down, both good songs in my book. Admittedly, I will be seeing Kabah (group from 1st video) next month at a reunion tour in San Antonio. They were like one of the quintessential pop groups of the 90s in Mexico. *pop was IN, in the 90s, #donthate #erafresayque

The first 5 seconds of this video is a good representation of Valerie/Isabel’s style of dancing when I saw them lolol

From that moment forth our childhood rivalry was a distant memory and the three of us when on to become good friends. Along with a few others that where part of our high school tribe. I’ve now been good friends with Valerie & Isabel for over 16 years. Dang, I feel old. Although life has sent us to different locations, we attempt to see each other at least once a year.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Not sure why I’m subjecting myself to this but here’s some pics that I found from high school through facebook. Luckily most of the memories from that era are not in digital format & are stored away in some secret vault. My questionable fashion taste/acne vampire era. #late90s #itwaswhatitwas

Years after our reencounter and forming a friendship, I began to discover that Valerie also had her share of spiritual experiences. You think my house was haunted? She and her siblings have seen a plethora of apparitions in the house they grew up in. The stuff that’s happened in her home and life for that matter is a whole other chronicle that she may tell one day…

Her siblings, Roger and Denise, were several years younger than Valerie so I really never hung out with them. They weren’t cool enough yet. (Nor old enough for the bar scene) I’d see them once in a while when I stopped by Valerie’s house. They remained burrowed away in their room for the most part, too socially awkward to communicate with the world quite yet. Or maybe they were at the mall. He he.

Well Denise, mind you, I’d known the family for like 10 years up to that point; turns out, had her own “abilities”. Story of the spiritual younger sibling of a good female friend of mine sound familiar? Even though I’d see her from time to time throughout the years, since she was like 8 years younger than me, I never really had a thorough conversation with her. So on one particular occasion, I visited their family home like I usually did when I visited Mexico (This drop-in occurred sometime late 2008 or in 2009). Either Denise or Valerie opened the door for me and as soon I entered Denise blurted out “Hey ! Did you guys see that!??”

“See what?” both Valerie and I replied. She seemed a bit irritated that only she caught wind of her observation.

“Wey, no vieron el rayo de luz cuando entro Ricardo??”

English : You didn’t see the burst of light that came in when Ricardo walked in?

(Now I know, that sounds very White Wizardry bright light encounter in Fangorn forest from the Lord of the Rings). Obviously, it was not visible to Valerie or me. It caught Denise off guard. Her saying that startled me also because it reminded me of what Helen told me, the many months or even a year earlier, that one time after church. Remember I mentioned it earlier in the post? So here’s another person who has the ability to see into the spiritual realm and she identified the white light that I now possessed in my spirit. Denise didn’t know my story and what I had been experiencing throughout the last year.

Slowly but surely I started discovering that the people that had been under my nose for so many years throughout high school and college had their own unique experiences and spiritual giftings to share with the world. There’s others also that I would meet later that I’ll mention when relevant. Not all just women, men also that have become like brothers to me. Back then, we just never talked about deeper things because no one ever started that conversation. Or maybe we were too busy being teenage and young adult drunken messes and hiding behind our facades. . This may sound douchey, but they weren’t friends that I would have picked for myself when I first met them. In fact, looking back at my 34 years of life, all of the good friends that I now consider family were placed on my path. It’s like the universe brought us together. They weren’t the popular kids in school or the cool socialites at the clubs. They are all kind of misfits like me. All of the people I intentionally sought out to be my friends, whether it be because I needed validation or wanted to fit into a certain clique, have all come and gone from my life. Regardless of distance, there’s a core group of friends that I’m connected with spiritually at a much deeper level than even we can possibly imagine. When I catch up with one of them, even if it’s after several months, we’re usually all going through similar phases emotionally or spiritually — different scenarios of course. It’s a bit insane. We’re sort of like a fellowship if you will, not of the ring though.  =) But of the cross…

---

With all of the available alone time to reflect that I had during the first few months of the year, I started piecing together all the bits of my spiritual journey puzzle thus far. The more I studied the Bible, the more the words just seemingly sometimes jumped at me when I read them, it’s like they were meant just for me in that instant.

Here’s two stories that felt uniquely written for me during that period (some of you may have heard of them before)

Jesus frequently often spoke through parables (simple stories with a spiritual or moral lesson)

The Parable of the Prodigal (Lost) Son – Story of a rebellious son who left home and squandered all of the wealth he inherited from his father on a party lifestyle. He lost everything and found himself starving and in need so he eventually went back to his father in shame, hoping at least for table scraps and a place among the servants. Plot twist: Instead, the father welcomed him with open arms, dressed him in the best clothing, and threw a big celebration.

The Parable of the Lost Sheep – Story of a shepherd who was tending to his flock of 100 sheep when one of them wandered off. The shepherd left the other 99 behind just to go find the lost one.

The miracles that had been occurring to me for the last few months — whyyyy me??? I was the lost son. That one lost sheep. I had been hurt, and in turn, hurt others and myself throughout my life. I was covered in shame. I was a broken man. A mess. A “sinner”. I didn’t deserve mercy. Yet, much like the father in the story, God didn’t hold my past against me; he welcomed me with open arms. He overlooked my iniquities. He loved me enough to seek me out like the lonely lost sheep that I was. He covered me with grace instead. The dreams I had throughout my life, the miracles foretold through prophesy, the people whom were strategically placed in my life at specific moments to help me get through that particular phase, the answered prayers, and the lighter burden and love that I now felt within me; all from a being that I was never sure even existed. I had experienced the Holy Spirit that Jesus said he would leave behind as a counselor to people when he left this Earth.

John 14:25 “All of this I have spoken while still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

Below is Jesus’ response when the Jews accused him of blasphemy for claiming to be God.

John 10:36-38 “What about the one whom the Father set apart as his very own and sent into the world? Why then do you accuse me of blasphemy because I said, I am God’s Son? Do not believe me unless I do what my Father does. But if I do it, even though you do not believe me, believe the miracles, that you may know and understand that the Father is in me, and I in the Father.

John 14:6 – I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you really knew me, you would know the Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.

Leading back to the title of my post: Is Jesus the Son of God and God also at the same time? A three dimensional God? The Holy Trinity: The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit? I know it’s a crazy concept to grasp. I don’t comprehend it in its entirety either. How can we? I mean, we’re human; our minds are finite compared to that of God. But I experienced that spirit. That same Holy Spirit that manifested itself as the sensation of fire is what moved through my dreams, through the people that delivered prophetic messages, through day to day circumstances around me. Since the Old Testament in the Bible, God spoke to people through prophets. I certainly am no theologian now, much less 8 years ago. However, I’ve never read anything saying it would stop at a certain point either. I am a living testament to the fact that communication mode is not shut off yet. Even in the Book of Revelations it talks about how in the end of days people will prophesy, young men will have visions, etc. This is how God communicates to the world to those who are willing to listen. It happened to me. Regular Joe next door me. Or in my case Jose. Or Carlos. (White folks call me that all the time lolol)

I didn’t deserve it! I’ve shared I had always felt like the worst of human beings! Inferior to everyone else. A mistake, an abomination, overly fragile and scared; birthed to suffer and live in torment without purpose in this world. Learning about Jesus’ teachings showed me the exact opposite. I was the lone sheep that had abandoned the flock of the other 99 and Christ was the shepherd that had left them all to come find me. To seek me out. Because he cared about me. He loved me so much he was willing to pour these miracles into my life just to prove it to me. Religion had left me broken and damaged that I never in my wildest dreams could have imagined the love that the heavens would rain on me in that stage of my life. It was so real, it was life changing.! Jesus Christ truly is the Son of God! He wasn’t just a mere mortal. His power was present in my life and pouring love and emotions into what had felt like a hollow soul. The resurrection Jesus foretold before he was crucified on the cross was so true in that moment, his fire was lighting a new hope in my life! He resurrected physically but he also promised the same for those who believe in him — a spiritual awakening for the heart, a rebirth if you will, to start over and turn over our struggles to him. I couldn’t manage life on my own again, without realizing it, I had started inviting him into my heart from that moment I called for help on that hospital balcony. He slowly introduced himself, his essence, and showed me I was his beloved child; that he cared for me deeply and that I wasn’t alone. He wanted to redeem what had been damaged and restore me to his purpose for my life. Which is far greater than something I could have ever imagined for myself!

The promises spoken to me frightened me to my core and I’ve kept them hidden for the most part for the past 8 years. I cannot any longer. The miracles that I experienced were for me to believe; to instill hope in my life and have faith. But that wasn’t their only sole purpose. They weren’t mine to keep to myself! After 34 years, I know now my purpose in this world. It’s to share what I’ve gone through to bring hope to others. To allow Christ’s light to shine through me to allow others to know who he is. I’m an imperfect broken man, yet, in his mercy, God decided to use me and overwhelm me with his grace. And he’s done so continually for 8 years, although part of me has still been fearful and resistant to changes that he wants to make in my life. I’ve been stuck in the past, refusing to let go and trust him with the broken parts of my sexuality. It’s too painful to stay the same now; I’ve hit the point where that pain is too much. I’m finally ready to live in my purpose. As frightening as it may be to step out into the world and face persecution for my beliefs, the time has come. I needed to get this off my chest and share my story. It’s too important. Not because it’s me, because it’s God story! I need to constantly remember what God has done in my life and what he’s doing in other people’s lives. The world is in so much need for God’s love right now, to combat the hate and fear that seem to dominate it. It starts with YOU, with me; from within us by allowing him to change our hearts. We can’t do it on our own.

 He has a story and adventure to build in each and every one of us, if we let him. We were given free will; hence, the choice is ours. He won’t force himself into your life if you don’t want him there. All you have to do is invite him in your heart and want to genuinely get to know him. How, you may ask? Just have a simple, heartfelt prayer/conversation with him like I did on that hospital balcony in Germany. (Well in my case, it was more like a desperate plea for help, that should do it too) In your own words, tell him you want his will for your life. (Even if it feels weird or like you’re talking to yourself. ) From that point forward, your life will change like mine did. I haven’t been the same since. Like the guy from Reading Rainbow used to say ” Don’t take my word for it”.  Find out for yourself. Your own unique spiritual journey awaits.

Doesn’t mean your life is going to get easier if you let God in. Umm…far from. Life will always have its struggles, but you’ll no longer feel alone in them. You will feel more alive than you could have ever possibly imagined. Even in the darkest moments, there will always be hope. Come what may, I’m ready to experience and live within my purpose, because that’s a bigger high and passion than any of my addictions from the past could ever possibly offer. The fact is none of us deserve it, but God loves us so much that he sacrificed his only Son for us in order to mend the rift that original sin caused between him & mankind. He willingly gives us the gift of grace and forgiveness; all you have to do it accept it and take it. Sounds so simple. Yet quite profound and difficult because as humans we want to earn it or work for it. That what religion teaches. You can go 5 times a week to church, pray a thousand rosaries; memorize the entire bible or whatever religious rituals you were taught – ultimately meaningless, if your heart doesn’t have love. (Not to mention, that sounds exhausting) As humans we will always fall short. We will always be “sinners”.

It’s an act of surrender, of acknowledging you have no control over your life and that you choose to turn over your will to him. It’s a daily thing for me. I can’t do this journey alone; I’ll need all the love and support from the people God places in my journey. And vice versa, I want to help others along the way. It’s not just about me; I’m just a piece of the bigger puzzle that is God’s amazing story. But I can’t help others cooped up into my apartment isolated and afraid of the world. Jesus continually taught his disciples to not be afraid. I need to step out into the light. God has been preparing me for years and has brought enough healing into my soul to no longer live in shame or tied to my past. We all have mistakes and we will continue to make them; but he helps us evolve and not continue with the same destructive patterns. His love and new identity upon me is the only thing that matters, any other label the world wants to give me is irrelevant. All other labels are just scales that gradually fall off and have slowly lost their power on me: gay, narcissist, pretty boy, loser, introvert, alcoholic, drug addict, sex addict, weirdo, outcast, etc. Each day for the last 8 years I’m slowly but surely living more freely, which is what Jesus Christ promises to those that follow him. Freedom from the invisible chains that hold us down and an opportunity to serve others through him while we are here on this earth. Ultimately we are spiritual beings created for eternity; the longings of our soul will never be completely met on this earth for this reason. Yet, Christ wants us to experience that freedom now; not until we die. Life doesn’t have to suck, there is magic and wonder to experience in our time here on earth, despite the difficulties and chaos that seemingly dominate this mad world. The devil, who I spoke about on the previous post, may control the world, but he has no control on Jesus. Satan will ultimately lose the fight. Jesus also stated:

John 16:33 “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

---

So winding down, phew, where was I?  Spring of 2008, Valerie arrived to Miami.  Her stay was full of adventure and shenanigans. We had a blast; laughing and bickering as usual like brother and sister. Here we are, two full grown adults sometimes breaking out into wrestling fights. She was usually the instigator, she never learned the lesson. She always ended up losing.

Here’s some pics from her visit

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

That week that Valerie came to visit, my roommate Lolita wasn’t in town. I related to Valerie everything that had been happening the past few months in detail; although I had already briefed her initially in December. She came with me to the small church on the beach that I was attending. At the time, she was starting to go through her own spiritual awakening, touched in part by what I was experiencing. She came with me to church on Easter Sunday, where a special service was held at an outdoor amphitheater. Along with other Miami Beach churches, there was going to be a baptism in the ocean afterwards. A week prior I made the decision to become baptized. I had been mulling on it for a few weeks ever since I heard Pastor Mario talk about it. I thought to myself, what’s the point? I was baptized as a baby by my parents. But it didn’t really count, did it? I didn’t have any say in that decision.  There was no personal heart connection to it. Now as an adult, I felt convicted to follow Jesus Christ. I already had accepted him in my heart for a while now. This was just a public expression of what was stirring in my soul. I finally comprehended what he stood for and the sacrifice he had paid to save my life. For anybody who chooses to believe in him. I decided to no longer be a slave to darkness, but a child of light.

Stay tuned for the final installments in my “Encountering the Divine” series. I’ll fill you in on what happened for the rest of 2008,  the additional prophecies that came to pass, and I’ll reveal those that haven’t yet. Then you’ll fully understand the reason it’s taken me 8 years to tell this story…

 

There's something in the air tonight
A feeling that you have that could change your life
There's something burning up inside
I reach out for you and our hearts collide

With heart on fire I reach out to you tonight...