FGBMFI Central Valley Convention – Turlock CA Banquet

Play Audio Testimony – Is He Real – from May 3, 1986

While reading from a book about the life of Smith Wigglesworth, “A man asked Smitty, ‘Smitty, when you’ve gone home, who do you think this mantle will go on to?’. Smitty replied, ‘I believe, I don’t know, it’s up to the Holy Spirit’.”

“And God be my witness, as I sat there, that light appeared in our kitchen, and a voice came forth and said, ‘I have passed this mantle on to you’.” T 41:50

The Testimony Of Jim Sepulveda from Modesto, CA, USA

‘Jim, if you own anything of value, please made out a will,’ my doctor told me after severe pains in my chest sent me to the hospital. Tests revealed an enlarged heart, a damaged main valve, and two main arteries blocked by cholesterol. I would need double bypass surgery, and a valve replacement.

I was thirty-five years old. I was terrified, and far too young to die! I came from a very large, but poor family and was the youngest. I spent time with my older brothers, and one in particular who worked in an auto-wrecking business. When I was five years old, I went on my bicycle to this company, and asked if they would give me a job. They guy laughed and told me to come back next year. I did, and he told me to come back the next year. Finally, when I was eight years old they employed me.

I wanted to be a businessman. I did not really know what one was, but I did know kids from the other side of town who had fancy clothes and toys and big cars. They told me that their fathers were businessmen, so that’s when I decided I would be one too! I worked in the wreckers’ yard until one day, when I was about 12, I found a box of panel beating tools. I began to work on these old cars, knocking out the dents. I soon became an expert, and I would ride my bicycle round the neighborhood looking for cars that had dents in their fenders (wings), and then ask the owner if I could fix it for them. A lot said no way, because I was too young, but others were happy to let me have a go. I would go home on a Saturday and give my mother the money. She would get mad at me because she thought I had stolen it.

By the time I was 15, I was an expert paint sprayer. Again, I had found an old compressor, and began mixing colors and spraying the cars. It did not seem to matter what colors I mixed, they always came out lime green! I then began my own business in my father’s garage. By the time I was 16 I had pictures of my customized cars on the front covers of magazines such as Hot Rod, and many others. At 17, whilst still at high school, I was employing three grown men.

One day a young Jewish boy brought me his new convertible, and asked me to paint it a color that no other car had ever been. He did not mind how much it cost. It was so successful that I won lots of custom car shows with it, and it was on the cover of lots of magazines. Eventually this led to my being taken into his uncle’s company, and working my way to the top by the time I was 32. I was then invited to join a new company, and to make it profitable within four years. I did it in six months. I was still working for them, having become very successful, when I reached the age of thirty-five and I collapsed.

Six weeks before surgery, God began intervening in my life. I did not know my wife, my mother-in-law, and their church were praying for me! I was at home watching television one evening, when suddenly a warm feeling came over me. I wondered if I was getting a fever as beads of sweat came from my forehead. Then, very clearly into my mind came the name of a local town about thirty five miles from where we live. I asked my wife, Sharon, if she knew of anything going on there that night. She told me there was nothing going on there. She went out of the room, but again these feeling came over me. Sharon came back three times, and each time I asked her whether she was sure there was nothing going on that night. She was getting upset with me, and was walking out of the room when she stopped, and a big smile came over her face. She said there was something going on but it was unlikely I would want to go. Evidently there was a healing service where they prayed for the sick.

My wife had a church background, but had not been to church for years. As for me, I had been raised a Catholic, and thought people who went to healing services were a bunch of holy rollers whom I would not go near for anything, not even money. In fact I laughed to myself at even the hint of any idea that I would go to such a service. But, even as I did so, I found myself saying to Sharon, ‘Would you like to go?’ I am not sure who was the most surprised between us. Had I really suggested that?

We drove to the auditorium where the service was to be held. There was a large crowd of people going towards the front entrance. I insisted we sit up in the balcony, at the back, just in case there was anyone there who might recognize us. To say I felt uncomfortable would be an understatement. I kept looking at my watch, fidgeting a bit, looking at my watch again, and not believing how slowly the time was going. In the end I turned to Sharon and said, ‘Let’s get out of here.’

What seemed to be a simple thing to do proved impossible. As I tried to get up, a warm feeling came over me again, and I could not move. My legs were paralyzed, and I thought I might be having a heart attack. Then I began to sweat, especially as the man on the stage called people forward. As he touched them they fell onto the floor. This was something weird, and again I tried to get up to go, but my legs just would not move. Suddenly the speaker at the front stopped, and looked up. ‘The Holy Spirit is telling me there is a man here who is scheduled for open-heart surgery. If you will come down now, I believe the Lord is going to heal you.’

He looked around, waiting for someone to respond. He surely could not mean me, and anyway, I still could not move. No one came forward and so he spoke again. ‘The Holy Spirit is telling me that He has a work for this man. Everyone bow their heads with me. Let us pray and see if the Holy Spirit might reveal the man’s name to me.’ He, and almost everyone else, bowed their heads, whilst I kept looking round. After about a minute, he slowly raised his hand and pointed his finger until it seemed to be aimed right between my eyes. ‘All right … Jim, come down now,’ he said.

At that moment it seemed like a breath of fresh air hit me, and I could move my legs. I turned to Sharon and told her I was getting out of the place, and that I would meet her in the parking lot. I walked out to the main aisle and up the stars, towards the exit sign at the top of the balcony. As I opened the door that warm feeling came around me again. A very clear thought entered my mind: What have you to lose?

Almost before I realised what I was doing, I had let go of the door, and was walking down the stairway towards the front of the auditorium.

‘Jim?’ was the man’s question as I came and stood in front of him. He asked if I believed in Jesus and I had to think. I had not been in church for 13 years, but I said I kind of did. The next question was whether I believed Jesus has died on the cross for me. I said,’ Yes’. After a few more questions, the speaker raised his arms and pointed at me. ‘Jim I believe the Lord is going to heal you now.’

Yet again, that same warmth went through me. My knees buckled and I fell on the platform. I felt wrapped in a warm blanket of peace and love. Then I began to see a red light appear toward the ceiling. It came down and touched my head. A pure warm heat poured down my neck and chest, right down to my feet. An even warmer heat came up my left side and stopped in the area of my chest. Then it felt as if two little fingers moved things around inside my heart. I felt physical movement inside me for about two minutes, then it stopped. Without conscious thought the words came out of my mouth, ‘Jesus, I love You. I know that You have healed me. I love You.’

My doctor was not convinced when I went back to see him, and told him about my experience in the auditorium. He was very concerned about me, and advised me to have open-heart surgery. We discussed the situation at some length, and then a thought came into my mind. ‘Catheterization. Do it for the glory of God.’ I knew that this was a procedure in which the doctors made an incision in a main artery, then fed a catheter into the heart to take pictures, so that they could ascertain the exact condition of the heart. I put it to him, ‘Doc, listen. I don’t want that open-heart surgery. I want a catheterization. I want more tests.’ Finally he agreed, and several days later I was on the operating table.

It was one of those tests they do whilst you are conscious, so I was awake the whole time. Everything seemed to go well. However, I suddenly felt a searing pain in the middle of my heart. This pain ran across my shoulders, down my chest and side, and my heart began leaping inside my chest. As I began to lose consciousness, I could feel the doctors pounding on my chest.

‘Jesus, if it’s my time to come home, I’m ready,’ I thought. ‘I love You.’ I was engulfed in complete peace with no fear of death.

I opened my eyes, and I was standing in a field, surrounded by acres of green grass. Every blade glowed as if backlit by a tiny spotlight. To my right stretched a dazzling expanse of vibrant flowers, with colors I had never seen before. Above me the endless sky was a deep and pure blue. The air around me was permeated with love.

I walked over a hill, a short distance away, then stopped beside the base of a large tree. A light began to appear beside the tree. The blinding aura was too bright to look at directly. I squinted down toward the ground, and then saw a pair of sandals beginning to appear at the bottom edge of the light. As my eyes moved upward, I glimpsed the hem of a seamless white gown. Higher, I could make out the form of a Man’s body. Around His head shone an even brighter brilliance, obscuring a direct view of His face. Even though I could not see clearly, because of the dazzling splendor, I knew immediately the identity of this Man. I was standing in the presence of Jesus Christ.

‘Jim, I love you.’ His voice washed over me, indescribably gentle, tender and peaceful. ‘But it is not your time yet. You must go back, for I have many works to do in you.’ I stood in awe, unable to utter a sound. Within me I was protesting that I was never going back. I wanted to stay right there beside Him. Almost with the hint of a chuckle, He spoke again: ‘Jim, I love you but it is not your time yet.’

Then the brilliance surrounding Him reached out and engulfed me, immersing me in a total sense of love and peace. I do not know how long I stood transfixed, but finally I turned away and began walking over the hill. Then a blue mist of light began to come around me like a fog. It turned into a dark shadow, and everything went black.

Suddenly I opened my eyes, and realized I was lying on the operating table, covered with a sheet. I did not know until later that I had been dead for eight minutes. Everyone had left the operating room except for the main surgeon, and one of his assistants. They were at the back of the room, filling out a report on my death. After a few seconds, I sat up. The sheet slid down my lap, and I saw the two men at the far side of the room with their backs to me.

‘Gentlemen,’ I announced, ‘I am ready to proceed if you are!’ They turned and looked at me, their faces white. ‘Get the rest of them in here quick,’ the surgeon then said to his assistant.

They ran test after test on me. Early the next morning, the surgeon came to my room and announced he was releasing me from the hospital. ‘Come back this evening at 8:30 to my office, and we will go over all the results of your new tests.’

That evening I told my doctor what I had experienced during those eight minutes I ‘died’ on the operating table. ‘Jim,’ he said after I was done, ‘I am going to show you something you will not believe.’ Together we looked at the new pictures of my heart. Rather than being enlarged, it was now the normal size. Where there had been eighty-five percent blockage in two arteries, there was now no arteriosclerosis. The main valve was functioning normally.

‘We ran test after test on you, Jim! He looked at me and winked. ‘This is off the record.’ I saw a tear form at the corner of his eye, but he had a smile on his face. ‘According to these pictures, this Jesus you have been talking about has either replaced or repaired your heart.’

Jim Sepulveda traveled the world sharing his testimony and preaching, a man who really knew God. In March 1994 God decided it was his time, and at the age of 54 he died in Canada, on his way home from a preaching tour.

I believe it’s important to tell the whole truth of who we were before Jesus. I am in no way glorifying my past. Just being very honest about where I came from. I pray my testimony gives hope to the hopeless.

My earliest memories are full of humiliation, confusion, rejection and anger. When I was 5 we moved to Manteca, CA from the bay area. It was a very big change. At such an early age I didn’t understand why the people were so different. Later I realized that it was a neighborhood heavily infested with meth. The kids knew way too much and were quick to teach me. I was abused in various ways countless times by the older kids in the neighborhood, and when I wasn’t being hurt, I was robbed for my stuff. I used to let kids just take off with my stuff because I knew I really had no choice.

Around that time I started having night terrors. Terrible, demonic dreams that left me paralyzed with fear in my bed. I would wake up screaming nearly every night from the time I was 6 until I was around 11. CPS came to my house because the neighbors thought someone was beating me. I made my mom sleep with me all the time and there was never a peaceful night in our house.

I became a very fearful, unhappy, angry child. I was exposed to way too much way too early and it made me insecure and ashamed. I started hating school, and getting into trouble. In 4th grade I was expelled for the first time.

I had experiences with the Lord from a very early age and was filled with the Holy Spirit. I began walking in an evangelistic calling at around 8. I have a memory of leading a teenager to Jesus and I remember hearing songs about Jesus that my mom would play, and I would cry with compassion over what Jesus went through for me. But the enemy attacked early to knock me off course.

I know when I think back that the Lord was with me. When I was 5 I almost lost my life in a car accident, when I went flying head first towards the front wind shield from the back seat. My mom caught me by my leg or I would have went through it. At age 9 I was at the lake with some friends. One of them drifted out too far and started drowning. So I reached for him and he panicked and pushed me into the deep water and I remember being under the water for a long time. I didn’t know how far under I was. I just knew I was going to die. I remember thinking “Jesus!! Jesus!! Jesus!!” And the third time I called on his name I felt my left hand grab something. It was a branch that was hanging into the water from a nearby tree. I pulled myself up with it and it kept me from drowning. I truly believe that was divine intervention from the Lord! At 14 I climbed a bridge over a lake that was a train track. I was right in the middle of the bridge when I heard the train horn. I was too scared to jump and too far to run back where I came so I froze. I leaned against the small wire fence that bordered the tracks and the train passed inches from my body. I was with a friend and I remember her yelling for me to duck, and I look and a huge metal wire was hanging out from one of the boxcars and it nearly cut our heads off.

In junior high I was a nobody at school and home. I would make people laugh all the time and act like a fool when I was dying inside. I went to church but I didn’t have anyone to really guide me and walk with me. I saw a lot of hypocrisy and was even treated bad at church so I quit going. I saw church as a place a bunch of stuck up people met up to act Holy and socialize.

My home life was unhappy and there was a lot of strife between my parents and I tried to stay away from home as much as I could. I used to pray that they would divorce just so they could stop hating each other.

One day at school this really popular chick started in on me. She was pretty much punking me. I was used to that whole situation. But something different happened inside me. The more she talked and the more kids that gathered, the more angry I got. I was so tired of being me. I didn’t care what happened anymore. She pushed me and I lost it. All those years of humiliation had gotten to me. I beat her down. And that was the beginning of the change. I remember walking into class after it was over and my whole body was shaking. People’s jaws were to the floor. Like “Did Dana just really do that!” Some kids laughed and was like “good job!” Now I had a new way to handle things and got much attention for my newfound rage. By 8th grade I was expelled for fighting. It became a hobby to practice. Something to invest time and effort into. I was good at it and it made me somebody (I thought) . My friends changed, I started messing with gangs and drugs. It got pretty bad we moved to a new city after the gang unit had come to my house asking my mom questions because of some violent acts that had happened. I ran away all the time. Went from place to place, just worried about my “homies”, didn’t care about my family anymore. I felt they didn’t understand me and didn’t accept me. I figured I could make my own family. I took pride in being fearless on the outside. I would fight anyone, men, women,, even groups of people. The more ruthless I became the more I was impressed with myself. I invited a murderous spirit in my life daily. Anger felt better than humiliation. But on the inside I was a coward. I would run from emotions, responsibility, etc.

At 15 I went to my first keg party and was raped there while my “home girl” sat in the next room with some dude she just met. I know she heard me yelling. Years later I found out that guy and his homies had a bet going as to who could get the most virgins. Last I heard he was on the run for doing the same thing to a 14 year old girl. At 15 I also began using meth. My best friends parents were dealers so we got all we could handle. I was also put in a mental hospital after I had swallowed a bottle of pills and went and got into a brawl right after. I was on medication for years. All I did was mix it with street drugs and it made me more numb and heartless than before. I remember one time I laid in my home girls bed for 2 days convulsing and hyperventilating from an overdose and I refused to let them call an ambulance.

At 16 a rival attempted to stab me with so much force that it would have gutted me like a fish, but the Lord made my reflexes quick, despite me being sloppy drunk and I walked away with a small cut, and a torn shirt. At 18 I was set up and forced to fight 6 females. I did my best but was outnumbered. The last thing I remembered was looking up and seeing a 40 bottle headed right for my head. I remember the strange hollow thud sound it made as it met with my skull over and over. When I woke up, it was daylight, everyone was gone and I was laying in a puddle of my own blood. I was bleeding from so many places. Blood all over my shoes and shirt, my face and hair. I got up and could barely walk. I had almost made it to my homegirls house when an ambulance, police car, and fire truck all surrounded me. Someone had called them seeing me stumble down the street I guess. I wouldn’t let them take me at first. I thought I was too tough to need help. Then they pressed a white towel against my face and when they pulled it away I saw so much blood that it scared me. So I went to the Emergency room. Later on I found out that one of those girls was supposed to have stabbed me that night as part of a gang initiation. But she refused. As a result she was beaten by her own people. My mom didn’t get any sleep that night because people had been calling her saying they were going to leave me for dead on the train tracks. (Which were right by our house) So every time a train passed my mom was terrified that I was under it.

I remember one night I was in an orchard with some friends. I wandered off by myself, drunk, lonely and hopeless. I climbed up into this huge well and I tested God. I lifted myself in and out of this deep well, one hand on each side, tempting death, asking the Lord if he cared about me.

When I was 18 I also met my sons dad. My first love. I fell way too fast and thought he did too. The Lord gave me a warning in a dream and a vision about this man but I fell deep into the relationship anyway. 3 months later I was pregnant. I spent my pregnancy miserable and desperate. I would cry myself to sleep because he would stay out all night with his people. When he would come home we would box and we gave each other many black eyes and bloody noses. I remember tracking him down at a friends. I was 6 months pregnant running up on carloads of people just swinging on my man out of sheer pain. I was so co-dependent it was crazy. I wouldn’t let him go for nothing. During one of our fights the cops came. And they told me to let him leave. I went crazy and caught a case for battery on a peace officer and went to jail. So there I was, with a newborn baby, doing AWP because I couldn’t spend time in jail as a new mother.

I would leave him hundreds of times in an 8-year span, but always took him back. I wanted to be loyal, I thought my love could change things, change him. But I only enabled him to keep living crazy. I supported his drug habit. Then formed my own. We lived on welfare for years. He couldn’t hold a job, either could I. We were both hopeless and empty inside. I remember him holding a gun to my head one day all gone off that dope. No matter how much anyone tried to help us, we could never leave our mentality behind and look higher.

I remember seeking the Lord a few times during those years. I heard the Lord urging me to leave him. I knew as long as I stayed I would never submit my life to God fully. But I was so mad at God. I asked him why he would ask me to leave my man when he was supposed to be make families better, not tear them apart. So I would reach out to God, but chose my man over his leading, time after time.

I was put in the mental hospital again, (diagnosed with homicidal tendencies) this time I committed myself after I had beat a friend up and stabbed her in the face.

I was heavily addicted to pain pills (vicodin and morphine) and as long as he let me have my habit, I let him have his (meth). By now our son was older and starting to display social problems. He didn’t know how to talk to people, because all his mommy and daddy did was cuss and yell and hit each other. And he didn’t know what a loving environment was, only chaos.

I left my son’s dad for about a month because of his meth use and cheating. But what’s ironic is I began using meth again while we were apart. I ran into old friends. And when I was wired I didn’t feel the pain so much of being alone. I started doing crazy things, I was convinced I was bi-sexual at that time. I was just confused. I knew he was slanging so I called him one day to get some dope, and he came over. And we reunited. And became heavily involved in the whole dope scene. I became very cold and ruthless to everyone, but my son’s dad and I were like Bonnie and Clyde now. At first that dope made us feel so close. He quit leaving me all the time because he didn’t have to live a double life anymore. He was heavily into pornography and I became involved too. So he quit cheating on me for awhile. He gave up his homies because he knew I was more “down” (deceived about the meaning of loyalty) than any of them. I wanted to be loved by him so bad that I would lie to myself constantly just so I could bare the abuse and lies. He knew I would die for him. I remember we were at the dope spot getting into our car one day and two guys ran up on his window and one had a gun in his waist. With no hesitation I jumped out of the car, unarmed and got in the dude’s face. I was going to have him shoot me instead of see my man get killed in front of me. That’s another time I knew the Lord was with me. Because those guys didn’t do anything to us.

We isolated our self from regular people and hung around other addicts. We lost everything. Almost lost our son. I remember one Christmas we spent in a drug house, smoking dope with 10 other people! That was a very low time. Our family took Lino for Christmas but we weren’t invited because we were out of our mind.

One night I found out about him cheating on me and pulled a knife on him, when I saw the scared look on his face I turned it on myself. The betrayal was too much, I stabbed myself twice in the belly. I was hospitalized and less than a millimeter away from piercing my intestines, which would have poisoned me and killed me. I have 2 ugly scars to remind me how God saved my life yet again.

A few weeks after that I remember being in a drug infested motel fighting with my man. I had told him that it was over. And something evil took over him. I looked into his eyes and saw something else there. He told me “I’m going to finish the job” (talking about how I had almost killed myself before) and he took out a knife and starting jabbing it towards me right where my belly had barely begin healing up.

He then raped me at knifepoint. He was telling me when it was over he was going to kill us both and if I screamed he would kill me now. I believed him with all my heart. I saw the murder in his eyes. I was pleading with him and nothing worked. Finally out of desperation I pressed my head into the knife. Hoping once he saw blood he would snap out of it. It worked. The side of my head dripped blood and he jumped off me and went crazy, crying saying he was sorry. Whatever had taken over him had suddenly left. But the next night it came back. And my son woke up to his father on top of his mother socking her in the face. I told him he was dreaming and to go back to sleep. Awhile after that he had witnessed his dad come at me with a hatchet. I was able to roll out of the way and he split a hole down the middle of our bed instead. I remember rolling around on the bed with Lino’s dad, fighting, and looking to the side to see my little boy frantically hiding the hatchet in the bathroom so we couldn’t use it on each other. I will never forget the somber look on my sons face as he told me “Mommy, I feel violence in my tummy.” That’s a 5 year old discerning a spirit of murder. Another time I lost control and ran at my man with a kitchen knife. It was headed straight for his heart, thank God he turned and the knife plunged into his arm, and broke into 3 pieces. Right now he could be dead, I could be in prison and our son could be a ward of the state. Many other violent acts happened over the course of time. These things didn’t scare me enough to take my son and leave though. I was wrapped in a web of darkness.

We finally got clean. I was done with it. I wanted out. He lasted a little while but the addiction came back. I ended up getting knocked in the face and bleeding all over the place. I ended up in the hospital ER. After that, I used again. And shortly after that I left him. After 8 long years I left him for another man. My homeboy who at the time I felt was my savior. It was lust, not God‘s love. My son’s dad took Lino from me for 3 months out of revenge. I drank every day for those 3 months. I lived in an apartment with no electricity. I went days without eating. But as long as I was drunk and surrounded by people I could manage.

I was with the new man for about a month then it got bad. It seemed so comforting at first, but we were both straight out of a serious relationship and didn’t know how to even heal. So we hurt each other. I remember pinning him against the couch just punching him over and over in the face until his nose busted and bled. I was determined to never let another man make me feel weak again.

So I let him go. Got my son back. But I was a single mom for the first time and I couldn’t handle it. I was a coward. So I started doing dope again and taking off for days. Leaving Lino with my mom. I began to hate men and contemplated switching to women for good. I thought If I left men alone totally they could have no power over me, and I could be strong and protect my heart.

Then came the day the Lord snatched me up. I was riding the bus all over town, twacked out, going to all the homies houses, just wanting some comfort. I was overwhelmed with grief and guilt about my son. Why couldn’t I love him the right way? Why couldn’t I function normally in society? Why was I so violent and hopeless and dead inside?

With each place I went it got worse. I saw the same guilt and sorrow in my friend’s eyes. How could we help each other when we were all so lost? None of them knew the way out. But I did. I always had.

So I rode the bus home in tears. Wanting to die. I was already dead inside. I walked into the house and sat down at the kitchen table. I was totally broken, tired and desperate for change. I cried out to Jesus with all my heart. I gave up trying to be in control. I didn’t know how to do anything right and I needed someone to show me. So I asked God to raise me all over again like a child.

I am now becoming who the Lord created me to be! I’ve been made new and am learning to walk out my freedom. When I look in the mirror I don’t hate what I see. I can be responsible now. I’m a better mother, daughter, and sister. The darkness in my soul and eyes has been replaced with his Holy Spirit. God blessed me with real friends who will pray for me to show they got my back… not do dirt with me or cover for me but speak truth to me. A lot of people think you got to clean up your life before you reach for God. But I’m telling you the truth. That doesn’t work! Jail, rehabs, shrinks, medications, they don’t work you know why? Because Jesus is the one who changes us. So come to him just the way you are. Let him change you. You can stop doing certain habits or behaviors for awhile, but if your heart is still empty you will go back to the same behavior or replace it with something worse. Aren’t you tired of short-term satisfaction? You can fill your time and mind with what this world has to offer, but at the end of the day when you lay your head down, you know you’re empty and lost. Something’s missing.

The things you hate about yourself, God doesn’t even see that when he looks at you. When Jesus looks at you his eyes fill with tears because he truly loves you. No one can ever put ideas up in his head to make him change his mind about you or make him stop loving you. (unlike people!) When the Lord looks at you he doesn’t see all the bad. He sees you as the mighty woman or man of God he created you to be. Don’t you want to find out who you really are behind all the pain and anger and confusion? Realize that God is our father. A lot of times what we have experienced in a father is all bad. But the Lord is a real father. He can love you in ways no person ever could. He can fill you with peace, you don’t have to feel alone in life anymore. Satan comes to steal, kill and destroy. And he’s done all 3 of those things to you. From a very young age.

And all the junk we experience in this world causes our soul to be covered in these layers of shame, guilt, anger, sorrow. When we give the Lord our heart, he lovingly takes it in his hands and mends it. And the layers come off you one by one, and then you can see who you are truly mean to be! Then you can find the life that you were meant to have. Then failure and despair are no longer a part of you! If you want to experience the power and love of Jesus, know that you’re going to heaven, and be truly satisfied ask him into your heart. If you’re not sure what to say just repeat this out loud and with all your heart: Jesus, come into my heart, fill me with your spirit, make me new inside. Free me from every evil thing in my life. Teach me your ways so I can be who you created me to be. Show me who you really are. In the name of Jesus Amen. Now it’s time to get to know your savior. The way we get to know Jesus closely is through his Words (The Bible), prayer and being around other people who love the Lord. And if you need a friend hit me up. John 14:27 Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

Michelle from Stockton, CA gave this testimony to her 9CP Literature class on September 25, 2009:

You probably wonder why I have "Tingling Toes" as my title. Well it’s because three months ago I was diagnosed with Gillian Barre syndrome. I started noticing it when my toes and just about both of my feet starting tingling and feeling kind of numb. Then it started to get worst. I’d fall periodically at school. I couldn’t walk up a step without my legs shaking and feeling weak. If I was sitting on the ground I couldn’t get back up because my legs would give out if I tried.

Of course we went to the doctor when it first started happening and she suggested we go to a neurologist. Then the neurologist suggested we do an EMG and some blood tests. The EMG was horrible; they put needles in your muscles and shocked you, it was a way to check the reflexes but it was pure torture. You know how it feels when someone shocks you by accident? Well times that by ten an add a needle to it. The neurologist then suggested that I get a spinal tap. Which is, they stick a big needle in your back where I guess you have a sack of spinal fluids and take some? My thoughts were terrified and confused. Needles were not my friend. I am absolutely and utterly terrified of them. After, when I got home I cried but knew I had to do it.

The day had finally come when I had to get the spinal tap. We had to go to Modesto Emergency room to do it. I was nervous, terrified, and just wanted to get it over with. They took my weight, height, blood pressure, temperature, and gave me a wristband with my name and some codes on it. The next thing I know is that I’m in an ugly pastel blue gown and getting ready for an I.V. The thing was I’d never had an I.V. before, So my whole body went into full on panic mode. My palms were sweaty, my body temperature dropped, and the monitor that took my heart rate was beeping because my heart rate was so high.

When the nurse was finally ready to put the needle in my hand, I was squeezing my mom’s hand and yelling random things. The I.V. went through. It felt like a little pinch and then coolness traveled up my arm. I was so disgusted with the thing I had to hide it from my eyes but it’s hard not to look when you have a needle stuck in your hand. All of sudden they tell us they don’t do spinal taps at their hospital and that were going in an ambulance to Santa Clara. My mom, my sister, and I were shocked. An Ambulance? The word "Why?" was all we could think about. They told us they would arrive in the next hour or so. That gave us time to digest what they just said and to figure out what to do.

The ambulance arrived and the team moved me from my bed to their own gurney. The gurney had a heart rate monitor and a blood pressure machine and a place to hold my IV fluid. I was kind of excited, even though this wasn’t a fun matter. I had always wondered what it was like in an ambulance, and now I knew. When they wheeled me out of the hospital into the ambulance my mind was on graduation. It was only a week away, but I knew sick or not I was going to walk for 8th grade graduation, and say my speech.

The ambulance truck was nice, they had lights, generators, and of course medicine and first aid stuff. I fell asleep as I watched the road through the back windows of the ambulance truck. I woke up when they moved me into the hospital. It was midnight and they were ready for my spinal tap, but I wasn’t.

When they put me in my room for the spinal tap, they put medicine in my IV. I started to feel weird and kind of loopy. Then I shut my eyes and fell asleep. I woke up with my vision clouded and I could see nurses all around me. But I felt a pain in my back, and I was stiff from being on my side for that long. The nurses tried to stop me from moving. Then I finally realized they weren’t done with the spinal tap! I started screaming and crying because the medicine was wearing off and the pain was unbearable. One of the nurses tried to calm me with a colorful sticker. I still remember thinking: "Yah, like a sticker will help me?"

Half an hour later it was done. I was flipped on my back and my eyes were all red and puffy from crying. I was not a happy camper, but glad that it was over with. My mom came in, and the nurses came back to take some blood, again! They took what they needed and returned me back to my room, which was pale and smelled like disinfectant. Normally a spinal tap only takes between thirty minutes to an hour, but mine took a total of almost three hours. I slept peacefully until they came in and said they forgot to put something on my blood tests, so they had to take even more blood. Great! When they were finally finished, I got a couple hours of sleep.

The next day they diagnosed me with Gillian Barre syndrome, and decided over ther next 4 days to give me forty hours of antibody infusions and Benadryl afterwards. When they first gave me the Benadryl, they didn’t tell me the side effects of it so there I was freaking out, with my body trying to fight the effects of it. My body eventually lost the battle, and my eyes rolled back and I was thrown into a deep, deep sleep.

The days went by, but not in a good way. They said that if the medicine wasn’t working, they would have to put me on a ventilator in the ICU for up to 8 months. The tingling in my body started to progress into my arms and I knew that it needed to stop soon. I walked through the hospital everyday even though it was tiring, because I knew it wasn’t good for me to just sit in bed all day. I still remember one night they had to redo my IV six times because my vein wouldn’t take the needle, and I definitely was not little miss sunshine about it. I kicked, screamed and continuously begged for them to stop. They didn’t allow me to eat for two days, because they feared that it was progressing throughout my body. It was horrible, and all I wanted to do was eat. When I was finally able to eat I remember that I had a soda and pizza waiting in the fridge and basically inhaled it. The next night the IV broke out of my vein and my hand was swollen multiple times bigger than my other hand. Just call me Popeye!

Eventually, after being in the hospital for five days, I was finally released. Getting outside of the hospital was so exhilarating. The fresh air, sunlight, food, and of course my bed. I was able to walk at my graduation, and I was so happy, and felt very blessed. I was a living miracle; I went from basically being told I would be in the hospital for eight months, to being released in five days. I had everyone at my church praying for me, and I even had people at another church fasting for me, and gave me a "Blessed" handkerchief. I prayed for myself, and I honestly believe that God was the one who healed me. This was such an important experience because it taught me that I was had a really great life and shouldn’t take it for granted. I learned that if you ever have tingling toes make sure you don’t blow it off as nothing, trust me on that!

Personal testimony of David Gawlik:

Praise be to our living God and His infinite grace and love!

Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven.
–Matthew 10:32-33, KJV

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is David Gawlik, I am an IT consultant and the designer and administrator of the buddyandveronica.com website, this website and many others.

In mid-April, 2009, Veronica McGlothlin sent me the itinerary for their trip to California to post in the site. It scheduled Buddy and Veronica to minister at Victory Life Center in Modesto, California, on Sunday, April 26th, 2009, and invited me to attend.

My first thought was, “This is great! I know where Victory Life Center is, it’s my friend Dan’s church and I need to be there. It will be great to meet the people I have been working for all these months.”

Initially, I had concerns about making the trip to Modesto, which is about 45 minutes North of me, because my health had not been good for the last 9 months. I was experiencing heart palpitations, a heart murmur and irregular heart beat on a regular basis. This condition would put me down for several days at a time. Leaving me with barely enough energy to roll out of bed, let alone make a short road trip. This was compounded by arthritis in my right leg and numbness in my right foot that left me favoring the leg and barely able to walk fifty feet without resting long enough for the pain to subside.

My mental and spiritual health were at a very low ebb. So low that I had contacted my attorney about drawing up a will and living will. I considered distributing DNR orders to the local medical centers and went so far as to inquire about alternative means to insure that I was not kept on life support or preserved as a demented vegetable.

During the previous months, God had spoken to me several times about His plan for my life. My reaction was, “Lord, I can’t do this.” And, I proceded to be stubborn and argue with God. Of course, God showed me that I cannot argue with Him, and I relented. Little did I know the extent of His plan or what was waiting for me in Modesto.

After arriving at Victory Life Center, my friend Dan led me to Buddy and Veronica and made introductions. We chatted for a few minutes before the Victory Life Center Praise and Worship team opened services. Buddy and Veronica took over with their Praise and Worship team and there was about 45 minutes of praise, worship, teaching and testimonies… then, they called everyone wanting prayer to come forward.

At first, I wasn’t compelled to come forward for prayer. So, I observed for some time. Then, a small, quiet voice spoke to me, “It won’t hurt to have them pray for you.” So, I wandered to the back of the line and waited for someone to get around to me. I remember my associate Kim grabbing my arm and leading up to the front and telling Veronica I was there.

Veronica came over to me and started to lay hands on me. I felt like I had been pushed in the chest, sent flying three feet and landed with my back to the floor. No pain or discomfort, just peace, I was totally at rest. Veronica followed me to the floor, laying her hands on my chest and prayed for me for some time. I remember very little of what she said, only profound harmony and peace.

I had no sense of time as I lay there, and eventually woke up. Awakened in more ways than I could possibly imagine. It took me a day or so to realize that the heart murmur was gone. Possibly, another day or two to realize that I was not favoring my right leg, could walk distances without pain and the feeling and sensation had returned to my right foot.

Praise God! I’m learning to walk again, on my previously afflicted leg, and learning to walk in Obedience, Belief, Faith and Divine Health. God is very real to me now and I can touch the word of God in my heart and feel the precious Blood of Jesus Christ flowing in my veins. To coin a phrase, I received a “Jesus overhaul”. What a way to wake up!

The prophet Jeremiah said: “… But his word was in mine heart like a burning fire shut up in my bones, …”
–Jeremiah 20:9

God has not been still in my life. This chapter is getting long, and there is much more. So, I will continue the testimony in later parts.

All Glory Praise to the King, in that name above all names, our Lord Jesus Christ!

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Avenues of Healing – Testimony of Dr. Tom Renfro

Dr. Thomas Renfro was diagnosed with Mantle Cell Lymphoma in November of 1997. Having been trained at the University of Virginia School of Medicine, Dr. Renfro understood the gravity of the diagnosis. Mantle Cell Lymphoma is considered to be incurable and untreatable. Of the many types of lymphoma, it is one of the worst.

At the time of his diagnosis, Dr. Renfro was an active member of The Freedom of Worship Church in Norton, VA. His church family would prove to be critical to him during the worst days of his battle. In fact, every time Dr. Renfro would find himself being overwhelmed by his experience he would turn to them for strength.

Thomas E. Renfro, MD was born February 7, 1955 in Norton, VA to Ed and Mildred Renfro. Growing up his parents were (and still are) active members of The United Methodist Church in Norton, VA. He graduated from J.I. Burton High School in Norton in 1973 and then he attended Clinch Valley College in Wise, VA (now known as UVA’s College at Wise). He graduated from The University of Virginia in 1977 with a B.A. in Biology. He then attended The University of Chicago to become a Respiratory Therapist. After working a few years as a therapist, he decided to go to medical school. At that time he was already married and had one son, Jason.

Dr. Renfro entered The University of Virginia’s School of Medicine and graduated in 1985 as a Doctor of Medicine. From 1985-1988 he completed his intern and residency programs in Salem, VA and was honored as Best Intern in 1986 and as Best Resident in 1988. After becoming board cerified in 1988 he returned to Norton to start his own practice. Eight years later, at the time of the diagnosis, the growth of the practice had allowed him to recruit three other partners (MDs), one nurse practioner, and a host of nurses and office personnel.

In June of 1997, the disease had taken its toll on Dr. Renfro’s body to the point he could no longer continue his practice. Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be placed on leave from the practice he had founded. After his healing on December 3, 1997, he spent most of his time and energy seeking physical restoration and spiritual growth. Finally, in November 1999, Dr. Renfro was released to go back to practicing medicine. Those things that he thought he had lost forever were restored by a God of loving grace and mercy.

Dr. Renfro began preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ in March of 1998. Since that time he has been able to preach in over 100 churches, pray for thousands of people, and he has seen the story of his miraculous healing touch an unnumbered host of concerned people. In 1999 he recorded a television series called “Avenues of Healing.” He has been on several regional television stations declaring the love of God. Dr. Renfro wants people to know that when ‘all hope is gone’ there is still Hope!