Debbie's Testimony of Deliverance I am a believer, who struggles with past abuse issues and many new changes. I started coming to Celebrate Recovery in the fall of 2008. It's been a great help to me so far. The people are very caring, accepting, and non-judgemental. I haven’t worked on the 12 step program yet. So, I don't have that testimony to give. But I'd like to share my testimony up to this point. I grew up going to church as far back as I can remember. We looked like the perfect Christian family. Nobody knew the abuse I went through. The abuse started when I was at least three years old. Since God was often the only One there for me, I developed a close relationship with Him when I was very young.

From that young age, I always knew there was something different about me, but I didn't know what. God knew what was wrong, though, and one day He would heal me. I just didn't know that day would be July 21, 2008. Even when I was three, God was orchestrating my healing.

At age 12, I was saved. I'd always felt drawn to having a ministry of some kind. In the 80's, at a different church, I started a ministry of going to the juvenile detention center to talk to the kids. During that time, I went to the pastor and told him what I went through in my head each day. When numerous prayers for me to be healed weren't answered in that church's timing, I was told I was possessed. That pastor told me the only way for me to be free, would be for me to kill myself. I was told to stay away from people, and people were told to stay away from me. So, I stayed away from most people for the past twenty six years. I'd always been terrified of people because of all the abuse in my life, but after that, I was terrified of church people, too. I'd been rejected by a church, and felt rejected by God, too. Those were the lowest times in my life.

In 1991, I started into therapy, seriously wanting to know what was wrong with me. Six months into therapy, I asked the question that changed my life forever. I asked, "Is it normal to see other people in the mirror?" That's when I was referred to a psychiatrist. So, I asked her my list of questions, "Why did I end up places and not know how I got there?" "Why could I be somewhere familiar, even at home, and not know where I was?" And then, "Is it normal to see other people in the mirror?" She diagnosed me with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from all the abuse. Then she said I had MPD- Multiple Personality Disorder. She said the other people I saw in the mirror, were my personalities.

MPD can develop in children under the age of five, who have suffered severe, repeated abuse or trauma. It's a coping mechanism; a way for a small child to survive. My first personalities were created when I was just three years old. More personalities were created all throughout my life. At age three, when the first personalities were formed, I went away into hiding, and the personalities lived the next forty-eight years for me, so I didn't have to.

At age three, when the first personalities were created, they went to live in their own inner worlds. So did every one created after that. Reality had proven to be too ugly and scary for them.

I'd always felt that whatever was wrong with me, was a curse. But in 1998, when God began healing me and integrating the personalities, I began to see MPD differently. I began to see it as a blessing; a gift from God to help me survive. I'd been told that integration may not work for me, since I had over 200 personalities. But God began the healing. And I fought it every step of the way. All I'd ever known was life with MPD.

I'd been told that the integrations would be the worst thing I'd ever have to go through in life. It was the worst thing, yet, also the most awesome thing. I was consumed and held by God's prescence through it all. Step by step, He was healing me.

In June 2008, a friend who I'd told my story to, was encouraging me to find a church to go to. So, I wrote Suncrest, explaining my story, and was graciously welcomed to church by Greg, Laura and Mike. That, in itself was healing. Laura began bringing my son and I to church. I knew I was heading toward the final integrations, and knew I needed to be at Suncrest for that to happen.

On July 20, 2008, at church, I noticed something big was happening, but I didn't know what. Ever Since I was young, just being around people- triggered flashbacks, and whoever I was around would suddenly morph into my abusers. It was the only way I'd ever seen people. Yet, that Sunday, it suddenly changed, to where I just saw people as who they were; not as my abusers.

Then on July 21, 2008, suddenly, the MPD was gone. And I was just one person, for the first time in forty-eight years. God had healed me of MPD. There were no other people in the mirror, anymore. And suddenly, I was living in reality again; the first time since I was three. There's so many changes I'm trying to get used to, now.

Throughout my years of healing, people made it sound like being just one person would be awesome. But I tell people that being one person is not all it's cracked up to be. Living in reality is highly over-rated, too. There are many times each day, I still really miss it all. There was a huge grieving process for each personality that integrated. A time of mourning, just like mourning the loss of a loved one, took place. After all the integrations, it is even more intense. But God's grace is sufficient for me. I'm told it can take two to ten years to adjust to life after integration. So, I'll need alot of God's grace. I still have the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and dissociate, but in time, I expect those to heal, too.

People have asked me what it's like to not have MPD anymore. It feels like I've landed on another planet. Just about everything in my life is very different, now. I'm learning to feel more than one emotion at a time. I'm learning to live in reality. Learning to be just one person. And getting to know who I am. Learning to live life, after forty eight years of basically being gone. It's like I was in a forty eight year coma. The last time I was out, I was a scared, abused three year old.

Due to all the abuse, I never felt human; just sub-human. But one night in Celebrate Recovery, a song was being sung that said, "I am human." God is helping me to learn that I am human, too.

Over the years, I've told some people about my MPD. Some have always been fine with it. Some stayed friends awhile, and then left. Others wanted nothing more to do with me as soon as I said MPD. And two people literally ran away from me. They ran faster than I thought they could, too. When I gave my testimony at Celebrate Recovery the first time, I was terrified of how people may react. I expected people to run out of the room, but they didn't. They stayed, listened, and were very accepting and non-judgemental. That was very healing to me.

Romans 8:28 says, "All things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose."

God has brought everything in my life, together for good. I am in awe of the healing God has done in me. I am humbled by it all. I feel like God is restoring me to who I would've been had I never been abused. Celebrate Recovery is helping me heal, now, too.

I'd had MPD and lived in the inner worlds for forty eight years. I prayed for healing for twenty six years. I endured ten years of integrations and healing, believing one day, I'd be healed. Twenty six years ago, I wrote, "Lord, dream for me. For I'm too tired to believe. The way seems much too rough; too long to bear." The answer was always, "You will be free, and all will see, the Lord can make you whole."

It got to where, on July 21, 2008, I knew all I had left to do, was trust God enough that I could let go of the MPD. I didn't know if I trusted Him enough for that. I hesitated. But as soon as I let go, and fell into the arms of God, I was healed.

I guess I just need to get these feelings off my chest. I served in the Army from July '93 to July '07, almost 14 years to the day. I have three children from a prior relationship. I married their mother in December '04 and got deployed to Iraq in January '05. Shortly after I left, my wife went crazy and started sleeping around with random people and even got pregnant by some truck driver she met. Afterwards, she and her new boyfriend got in touch with the father and got the money for an abortion or she ended up just losing it.

I had to come home from Iraq on emergency leave in order to sign over guardianship of my kids to their great aunt and uncle. Then I got a storage building and tried to save all the belongings of ours that I could for when my tour in Iraq was over because my wife had defaulted on our mortgage and my doublewide was being repossessed.

After I returned to Iraq, my in-laws wanted to have the kids live with them so they got guardianship of the kids. While my kids were living with my in-laws, they were letting my wife (their daughter) come back into the kids' lives. My wife would come back in for a while and then leave again after a couple of weeks. She had met another truck driver and was going out on the road with him. She came back again during Christmas '05 and left again after another couple of weeks. Both visits that she was there, from what I heard, were disasterous.

I returned from Iraq in Jan '06 and stayed with my in-laws and kids. One of my children was displaying a lot of sexual behavior and to my shock, my in-laws were accusing me of abusing them! Especially since my mother-in-law herself had told me that the behavior was going on while I was deployed. I went to social services and tried getting advice on what to do. DFACS was notified and the children were all three taken and put into foster care just three months after my year long deployment. By the grace of God they were all put together in one home with a wonderful family.

I had already started divorce procedings and started trying to get custody of the kids. My wife and I both had a case plan which we had to accomplish in order to get custody. I finished my case plan completely before Thanksgiving and in addition had a polygraph and an examination used to identify sex offenders and passed both with flying colors. My wife refused to cooperate the entire time and never even started her case plan. I was given unsupervised weekend visits and was supposed to get full custody just before Christmas.

Then my in-laws decided they were going to try to get custody and ended up postponing court until Mar '07. I was awarded full custody and my wife got visits supervised by DFACS. Since I was now a single parent and my unit was getting ready to deploy back to Iraq again, I didn't have any family to be able to help with the kids. So, I got discharged in July '07.

The instructor position I was selected for was not awarded the contract so I ended up being without a job. I worked construction for a while and then got into installation for Knology TV and Internet. I eventually got a job at a nursing home as a maintenance technician. That's where I met my fiance who was working there as a CNA. We fell in love and everything went great between us and the kids. She quit her job and stayed home with the kids full time.

DFACS stepped out of the case and put the visitations under my supervision with their mom. The visits weren't being productive and all she would ever do is gossip to me and make empty promises to the kids. She was pregnant again and living with her boyfriend. We are actually still going through our divorce now because she keeps refusing to cooperate and get this settled. She was even three weeks late getting our son his birthday gift because she kept forgetting to bring it with her to the visits. She didn't even call our youngest child on her birthday because that was around the time she was giving birth to her new baby girl. When I finally did hear from her after a month of no contact I told her that I was ending the visits with her until we could get it settled in court. That was June '08 and she has had several opportunities to settle this and has ignored each one. She has also broken up with her boyfriend and is moved back in with her parents and is now raising her new daughter in the same situation which destroyed our marriage and caused behavioral problems for the children.

Since I got custody of the kids, I have gotten them treated for their behavior and my fiance has nourished them and taken their education to new heights. The daughter that had the behavior has not displayed it for a very long time and has recently been accepted to a gifted students program at a school in town. My son has been recommended for it and my youngest daughter is scheduled for an entrance exam for them.

I have been struggling through temporary assignments and have recently been laid off again. I've been out of work for a week now but thank God my fiance had given me the courage and opportunity to go back to school and expand my education. I am now finished with my third quarter for Industrial Maintenance at the local technical college.

Some men my have given up or given in instead of taking on three children knowing that it would end a long, secure military career just six years from retirement. I have gone from one job to the next trying to find where I fit in. I have suffered and celebrated time after time for the last two years during a never-ending rollercoaster ride of emotions. I have kept going when others would have given up because every path I have taken, in one way or another, has led me towards a greater purpose and a better life for my kids. God has put suffering in our life in order to make us stronger so that we can appreciate what we do have instead of complain about what we don't. I believe that he will lead me to a new career when he thinks I'm ready for it and I know that my divorce will end soon so that I can marry my childrens' "real" mother who has stood by us during the turmoil and stayed true and faithful to us.

I was born in 1966 to Eric and Carolyn Frye in Andalusia, Alabama. In 1968 my father accepted a preaching position with a Southern Baptist church in New Mexico and we moved to the west. My father and mother several years later, having moved us to Arizona to serve as pastor/missionaries on the Navajo Indian Reservation, raised my brother, Mitchell, and I to respect and love God. During our time in Arizona a very close friend of mine by the name of Perry Edwards had accepted Christ and shared his testimony with me. Through early experiences with my parents' belief in Christ and my friend's acceptance of Him, I came to realize that I needed Christ in my life. In 1973 at the age seven I accepted Christ Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I have never known a time that I was not aware of Jesus’ love for me, and attribute this primarily to my father’s and mother’s unconditional Christ-like love for me and those around me. As I continued to grow older, stories of Jesus and great Biblical figures of repute abounded in our home, Sunday school, and worship services. There was never a lack of spiritual devotion demonstrated to my brother and me by our father and mother. Their example as faithful Christians paved the way for the Holy Spirit to impress upon me the need for Christ to work through me as a faithful follower.

As I matured toward adulthood, I began to realize that God had a great work for me to do. But, the prospect of service in and for Christ was frightening, so I began to rebel against God in everything I had been raised to believe and respect. I started down a path that avoided thinking about my potential in Christ.

In my young adult years I began to physically avoid church participation and I fell away from walking with Christ with any consistency. The study of God’s word and prayer became less frequent and eventually disappeared altogether. I saw the world through the eyes of one who desired material riches. But, I could never bring my desire for wealth and the action that it required together to produce any kind of positive results.

I wandered aimlessly in my spiritual life for several years, but God was working even though I refused to listen and heed His desires for me. During this long period of uncertainty, I married my wife Rhonda, had three children and moved my church membership from one Salt Lake City church to another one. As time progressed and my children began to grow I realized that my family needed the influence of God and Christ Jesus in their lives and we as family began to attend church regularly. During this time a great thing happened. My daughter accepted Christ as her Lord and Savior.

With this miraculous event I began to look upon my spiritual life in a new way. God opened my eyes to a need for study and devotion in His word. As these studies and devotions progressed I became reacquainted with God. My ears and eyes came open to Him again and a renewed life in prayer began. This went on for several years.

In 2005 and 2006 God did some more miraculous things in my life that again changed the way I viewed Him, Christ, myself, and others. First, I was led to intensely seek the character of Christ Jesus in the Bible. The Holy Spirit began to make Himself known as I made my way through several self-studies that revealed to me what Christ experienced while He ministered on earth; How He treated His disciples and those around Him, His experience in death and His resurrection were prominent in my study. I found an insatiable appetite for God’s word that to this day has not been satisfied.

Second, I began to feel God calling me again to serve. I wasn’t sure in what way I would serve, but the call was there and I knew that I must begin fervently seeking God’s will for my life. Although prayer had been present in my study of God’s word my focus changed and I began to actively seek His will fully.

Third, I was impressed to seek out the spiritual gifts that God had so graciously provided to me. Through the counsel of my pastor at the time, Dr. Roger Russell, my father and mother, my family, friends, and some tools that assist people in identifying spiritual gifts, I discovered that God had placed in me the gift of exhortation. I began, and continue today, a study on those Biblical figures that God had given this gift, so that I would grow in my understanding of God’s direction for me in ministry.

Fourth, and again fantastic, my wife and my two sons were led to Christ. For the first time in my wife’s and my marriage our family became a cohesive spiritual team with Christ Jesus as our coach, mentor, friend, and head. As we came together spiritually my calling became clearer. I was to preach the living Christ Jesus to the lost; churched and unchurched alike. The support from my family in my calling to serve has been like nothing I could have imagined in our early family life. God revealed Himself to me as a God of grace, graciousness, and perfect timing.

God has quashed any doubt about His abilities and made Himself clearly known to me through the miracles He has performed in and around my life. His only begotten Son sacrificed Himself for me on the cross and rose again to live eternally as my advocate at the right hand of God the Father. Jesus’ blood on the cross has cleansed my sins, He lives today, and I have eternal life with Him, because He died for me. I know and accepted Him as my Lord and Savior.

Where I wandered without direction, I now have an eternal purpose and certainty in my life with a direction that fully serves God. It excites me to think about those I might witness to who will discover what I have about Christ Jesus and the gracious God we call Father. God has and will continue to use me for His purposes and my prayer is that He will impress upon you His desires for you in your life.

It was July 15, 2003. I had been up for about 5 days now. For the past three months I had been high. A drug they called "Ice" had been beckoning my name since that first hit. My roommate was sleeping. There was a knock at the door. It was someone that came by regularly; he really had no home and we often shunned him away, but this time I let him in. He proceeded to take out some marijuana and roll it into a cigar paper. At first I was hesitant. During my days of doing "ice," i told everyone I refused to smoke that sort of thing because it made me too nice. This would ruin the facade of being hard core I had kept up since I moved into that place. Reluctantly, I agreed. A short time later I felt strange. As if I did not trust this guy. And it was nagging at me to get him out of there. I called a dealer and confidant we had been in touch with. I called him "Tiny Tym." He talked me into driving over there. He sensed my panic and felt that maybe I needed to re-up on the ice and I would be fine. We smoked and smoked and smoked it until the early morning hours. Around 4:15 a.m. we went out to the steps and looked at the moon. He was someone I looked to like a brother. He expressed to me how he felt like he was old. And he was a bad person. I reassured him that he had a big heart and that he was not bad, but he kept insisting on this.

Around 7:00 a.m., he and a friend asked me if I wanted to take a drive with them to Rockwall. The friend's girlfriend lived there. Normally, I stayed indoors as much as possible when I was high, but this time I agreed. I even consented to driving them in my car. Within minutes of leaving, I realized I was not in the shape to drive so I pulled over and let "Tiny" drive. The entire way I felt very strange. I had this sense of "reading between the lines" of everything they were saying. In some strange way, I was enlightened on the events that were going to take place over the next few hours. A tape was played . . . there was a song "Third Wish," which I had heard many times before. It was a song about someone losing their life in the drug world, and coming back for revenge. And for their third wish they wanted all of the pain to stop. As soon as it ended, I screamed for them to pull the car over. The worst feeling I ever had in my life came over me at that moment. It was only then that I realized there was a shotgun in my trunk. I just knew this friend of his was going to kill me.

I looked up and we were stopped on the side of the interstate and the sign which was about fifteen feet ahead read "Fate City Limits-Population 373." It was at that moment that I began pleading for my life. I begged for them not to hurt me. Someone I had trusted for 3 months who was supplying me with free drugs, suddenly was my worst nightmare in a sense. But strangely he was giving me a message. He was telling me in some sort of distorted way (at least from my perception's point of view) that I had made this choice in my life and now I was going to have to suffer the consequences. I pled with God at that moment. I remember saying over and over again, "Lord forgive me!" This was not something I expected to say.

One month earlier I had converted to Wicca. The entire ritual ceremony of being consecrated, five fold kisses, athames, and oils candles and such. Somehow I had walked away from God after being raised in the church . . . My own father was a pastor until I reached the age of 13 or 14. This idea of being a solitary "witch" seemed to allow me to accept all of the wrong I was doing and continue on the path of destruction feeling that if I harmed no one else, I was O.K. In earlier times, I would have cringed at the thought of being around anything of the such. But in this world of drugs and madness, it was O.K.

Tiny was actually the person who gave me a gift of the Bible about 2 weeks after my "ceremony." I felt in my mind during all this madness, that he was somehow trying to help me by showing me if I did wrong I would have to pay. Somehow strength rose from within me and I allowed them to drive a little further. Until the friend in the back . . . whose nickname was "Wood," said - "There's no cops in Rockwall . . . you can yell forever and they'd never hear you." I pretended to be OK and said I was ready to drive again. Tiny let me back in the driver's seat and as soon as I took over I pulled off at a small fruit stand that was abandoned on the side of this narrow 2 lane road. I turned the car around and said "We're going back." I kept thinking . . . this will not be my Fate. And there I was, literally . . . in Fate, TX. They got very angry and made me stop the car. I braced myself for what was about to happen. They demanded that I open the trunk and the guy in the back kept calling me all kinds of obscenities. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for my final breaths. I remembered Christ's final words on the cross and I repeated them out loud. When I opened my eyes I had a peace over me and I looked at Tiny . . . I begged him to come back with me and not stay with that guy but he said I have to stay . . . but you go and get help. With one foot on the gas and one on the brake, I looked into the rearview mirror and there they were walking in the opposite direction, a rifle on their backs.

I cried to God for the entire drive back to Arlington . . . trying to figure out where I was going to go. I made the wrong choice again. I went right back to the apartment where my roommate was and was preparing to forget about what had happened. I thought maybe if I got high enough . . . I would forget. That wasn't God's intention for me though. The entire day I was paranoid. I kept thinking in my own distorted way that these people were going to kill me. I cried and cried, tried to sleep and woke up more paranoid than before. The night went on and suddenly I became this nice person to everyone around me trying to tell them that they were killing themselves spiritually. I had been so mean to everyone before and they literally thought I had gone crazy. In my mind, though . . . I was perfectly sane. I saw raw truth and it scared me to death. Even though no one else understood . . . I KNEW this was real. My roommate and I got into it and at 11:45 I left everything, got in my car and drove . . . with the intention of driving back home to Arkansas - safely to my father's and I figured I'd get back and pretend it never happened. That wasn't in the plan either.

Somehow I got lost and ended up going in the opposite direction. As I drove I looked at the exit signs . . . 15 . . . 14 . . . 13 . . . 12 . . . and at each one a moment of my life flashed before my eyes . . . the wrongs I had done, the people who had died. I knew at any moment my life was going to end. In a panic I pulled off at exit 3. I pulled into a restaurant and it was closed. Out of nowhere, a cop car appeared. He asked me if I was O.K. and I said, "No, Sir . . . I'm Lost." And that was exactly what I was. The next thing I knew . . . I was telling him I was sorry for lying but that I had been on a 3 month drug binge and I needed help. He asked me to sit in my car and he would call an ambulance. I did as he asked. I remember the car being so hot . . . I couldn't breathe. I had never been so thirsty in all my life. My clothes which had fit me well 3 months before now hung off of my body as if they were made for a man 3 times my size.

The ambulance got there and I remember the 2 of them well. They were dressed in white and burgundy and gold. The gentleman helped me in and asked if I was OK. And I was actually smiling. I felt safe. The lady held my hand and told me it would be OK. I remember telling her I wanted to be a nurse one day and she said, "You will be." I kept asking for water, and they told me they had none. They took my vitals . . . I distinctly remember looking up and seeing all zeroes on this machine that was supposed to show a pulse and blood pressure and such. They told me the battery may have been messed up but I never saw any numbers show up on that thing. The lights were bright inside and began to flicker . . . switching from almost complete darkness to a blinding light. I tried hard to remember all the personal information they were asking me . . . name, D.O.B., SS#. The man asked if I needed to go to the hospital or if I needed to get help. I told him I needed help.

He took me to a place called "John Peter Smith Hospital." When we arrived he took me to the 10th floor and asked me to sit in a chair . . . and no matter what . . . not to leave the waiting room, nor listen to the people that were begging me for money and drugs. I felt I was in God's Waiting Room. I wondered when the nurse would come out of that door and take me to my judgment. It scared me . . . I knew if I were to see God, I wouldn't be ready. So I took the elevator down to the first floor. Once there I realized I had made a mistake . . . I tried to go back up the elevator but the highest it would take me was the 3rd floor. I had my choices . . . the basement, which in my mind I believed to be hell itself - the first floor - the second floor - or the third. I knew I had blown my chance and would never see that 10th floor again. I looked around for a door out but they were locked . . . I made my way to the chapel . . . there was a phone there and I called for a pastor but no one ever came. I sat there for an hour or so praying and praying. I left and the only thing I knew to do was pull the fire alarm. As soon as I did, a police officer came. I was crying and confused . . . I told him I just needed help and that I didn't know what was going on or who I was or why I was here . . . I kept telling him how sorry I was and that I just wanted to make things right. I repeated "I'm sorry" it must have been a million times.

He took me back to the 10th floor, when I got there . . . the waiting room was peaceful. Before there were 30 or so people with distorted faces that reeked of odors. This time there was one couple in there besides myself. And I finally located the water fountain . . . I must have stood there 10 or 15 minutes drinking as much as I could. I made a call to Tiny who said he was coming to get me . . . not to go back with the doctor . . . just to go back downstairs and wait on him. At that precise moment the doctor came to the door. I walked to the trash can and threw my car keys in them and proceeded to walk back with the doctor. We interviewed for 30 minutes or so . . . her asking me many questions. She was about to release me before she asked me one more question . . . She asked me if I ever felt like I was going to hurt myself and I told her yes. At that moment I was admitted voluntarily.

I questioned my fate . . . I wondered what was going to happen next. I kept hearing of a place called Millwood - that all the people that seemed evil ended up going to. And then another place called Potter's Garden - that all the people who were so nice to me seemed to be taken off to. These were later found out to be psychiatric hospitals. But at the moment to me . . . this was heaven or hell. I spent 3 days and 3 nights in a place that could in my mind be the closest I could come to Hell. I felt the heat, sensed the anger of people around me; they sneered at me and I felt they talked about me; I wouldn't go to sleep for fear that I wouldn't wake up. Boils had appeared on my arms. I'd cry and cry and cry wondering when God would tell me which one it was going to be . . . Heaven . . . or Hell. Every time Id get upset, I would go to the chair by the fire extinguisher . . . and take paper and pencil and write the 23'd Psalms over and over and over and over. Finally, after all the agony and voices and paranoia . . . they told me I would be able to leave soon. I told them I was alone in Texas . . . had no family there . . . so I was preparing myself to go to a homeless shelter. I was willing to start all over again from the ground up. I didn't want to burden family or ask anyone for help . . . I knew that this time I had to do it by myself. Out of nowhere my father came. He drove 6 hours to come rescue me out of this Hell I was in . . . the man that I felt I had let down so many times, the man that I thought didn't love me anymore was there in the midst of all of this to take me back into his home again and help me get back on my feet. When no one else cared but God, he was there.

After experiencing all of this there were moments that I wondered whether I should tell anyone. I knew they would think I was crazy and sometimes I even thought I was crazy myself. Over time God showed me what all of this meant. I literally had to be born again and start again like a baby up. One year later I am happily married to a wonderful man, am financially stable, work as a home health care aide for the elderly, and have received grants to go to school . . . FOR FREE!

What may seem like an illusion to some is a reality to others. You just have to open your eyes and see all the things that God has put before you. Without Him I don't know where I would be today . . . I may have never left that city of Fate.

As a child, Victor went from troubled, to bad, to worse. By the time he was 17, he had dropped out of school to become a gangster. He was addicted to alcohol, smoking, vulgarities and pornography while pursuing a life of crime. One day Victor met a girl who invited him to church. There he met Jesus Christ and surrendered his life. Victor has never been the same again, as his life continues to undergo an amazing transformation.


Victor King’s Life Transformation

Victor King was a born in Singapore in 1980 and grew up in a Christian family. Despite hating to go to church, he was forced to attend by his parents. They sent him to a Christian school but that didn’t help. When he reached high school, that’s when he was influenced by his friends and got involved in a gang, smoking and skipping school. Things were turning from bad to worse as this became a lifestyle of bondage for him.

Victor started stealing, vandalizing, drinking and getting into fights. His folks found out about it and tried to talk him out of it, but it didn’t work. He was very rude, hot-tempered and vulgar. His teachers, the school staff, relatives, good friends and even counselors tried talking to Victor, but none of them could get through.


The Street Life . . .

Victor was expelled from school because of his bad attitude and poor attendance. He became a dropout at age 17. It didn’t really matter to him that he was a dropout. Rather, it gave him more reasons to become a full-time gangster.

Victor frequented pubs with his gang members daily. He became a very heavy smoker and he got hooked on alcohol. He was full of obscenities and got addicted to pornography. He started womanizing and stayed away from home most of the time. There were times he got involved in armed robberies. Most of his friends were drug addicts and ex-convicts. This troubled life took control over him. Victor was so lost in his sin, he became the worst guy in his family. No one could change him, not even the army.

After he was drafted into the Singapore Armed Forces, many people thought Victor would change for the better, but unfortunately, he did not. He got himself into the army prison (detention barracks) for going A.W.O.L (unauthorized absence) and for his bad attitude. Victor was also brought back to the police station a couple of times. His lifestyle kept pointing him to the prison, but he would always escape without getting caught.


Preserved By God for a Purpose . . .

Victor’s slavery to the devil came to an end just a few years ago. He had had quite a number of girlfriends in the past, and most of them were unbelievers. Five years ago, he got to know a girl who was a Christian. She brought him to her church. The Lord Jesus touched him and he started to break down. Victor suddenly felt so in love and loved, but he didn’t know how or by whom. All he knew was that this love was something beyond human experience. That day he received Jesus as his Lord and Savior.


Life Transformation . . .

Victor’s life was not the same after that day. As time went on, Jesus delivered him from so many things. Nine years of heavy smoking ended, six years of alcohol addiction was gone, and as time went by, God supernaturally took him out of the gang, delivered him from vulgarities, anger, womanizing, pornography, filthy lust and many more bad habits. The Lord made Victor see women in a different way.

He became a new creation. And Victor was also healed of a 10-year urinary bladder problem. Amazing grace! What man could not do, Jesus did. The people who knew Victor were shocked at the changes in him. The Bible says, with man it may seem impossible, but with God, all things are possible. It also says that sin shall have no dominion over us for we are not under law but under God’s grace.

The Lord is still working in Victor King’s life. He has felt the power and the manifest glory of Jesus in his transformed life.

There is hope in Jesus Christ.

Have you every felt lost? Have you ever felt like something was missing in your life? I have always believed in Jesus, but in my childhood, I would never spend any time praying or reading scripture, I use to spend most of my day watching TV or playing video games which was laziness in every aspect including spiritually. I was addicted to sexual pleasures of the flesh for years. The ways of wrong were in my daily activity. I was spiritually blind and did not see the errors of my ways. I was disrespectful to my parents. In my speech there was filth and profanity. I did not have the Lord in my life. When I was nineteen, a serious revelation in my commitment to God occurred; I realized that I wanted a stronger relationship with my God. At first I was crushed emotionally thinking it was too late to develop a deep relationship with God. I viewed my self as such a wretched sinner, and I felt that I deserved hell. I condemned myself. I knew that in every way I was guilty. I wondered if God would forgive me. I hated the actions I committed in my past.

My spirit was crushed and burdened, Godly sorrows flooded my heart, pain consumed my soul, and I felt in every way hopeless. The thought of not honoring Jesus Christ’s sacrifice on the cross hurt, but then it hit me - God's mercy is everlasting and He wants us to come back to Him.

I cried out to the Lord Jesus Christ. I said that I forgave everyone that ever that wronged me and asked Him to forgive me, asking Him for a heart of flesh, to remove any stony areas in my heart, and to give me a heart of purity. Soon after things changed. Through the Scriptures a deep love for God soon developed and I began to get to know God and our Lord Jesus Christ.

I developed a hatred of sin in my daily life. I am in no way perfect but through much sincere prayer and through Christ which strengthens me, I sin much less and stay away from things of the flesh, and am spiritually minded. I have, by the mercy of the loving Lord Jesus Christ, become alive in spirit and have received the Holy Ghost. Thanks to Jesus Christ who has entered my life, my nature is one of peace and I have become more caring and respecting of others around me. Jesus Christ changed me.

I want to help others know truth; I am forever humbled that God's grace came upon me. Jesus Christ guides me in the ways of truth and has strengthened my spirit. "I once was blind but now I see." Our Lord Jesus Christ wants to come into our life and help us, but we must open the door of our hearts and call upon Him asking Him to be a part of our lives and help us. It is the realization of how truly hopeless we are without Jesus Christ that allows us to truly reach out fully to him.

THANK God our heavenly Father for our Savior and Lord Jesus Christ.

Please keep my identity anonymous. I am a Christian converted by God from satanism. After leaving a comment online about a Christian video, I started receiving mail from a satanist. Since then we have corresponded back and forth. He sends a satanic hymn, and I send him scricpture and do my best to witness to him. I pray the Lord opens his eyes. The following includes my testimony and was my first letter. Dear satanist that left me a comment that I deleted:

Perhaps the Lord sent you here for a reason. I'll be praying for you. You don't know why but I hope one day you'll see before it's too late. I used to be a satanist myself. By the way, you seem like you're a lot nicer than I was then.

When I was four years old my parents were avoiding each other. I have flashbacks from before then, but that's all I can remember in terms of their relationship to each other. When I was five my parents were getting a divorce. All I knew was that my dad had just become a Christian and now my mom was moving out. So I hated him for it. And not only that, but I listened to the lies of the devil and hated the God of my father as well. I set my rebellious heart fiercely against Him. From ages 5-16 (until I moved out of my dad's house), I attended church - twice on Sundays, and on Wednesday evenings. I hated it. I had hateful eyes towards the people there. I purposefully shut my ears to the truth. However, there were a few people there I couldn't help but like. They were few and far between, but they were genuine and real, down-to-earth people that took an interest in me and liked me, even though my hate for the church had to be written all over me. Why they reached out to me I didn't know. But bottom line, I hated the hypocrites and to spite them I rebelled against God, never wanting to spend a second with them in the next life. And where were all the hypocrites going to end up? Heaven? I don't think so. Little did I know I was headed to hell where all the hypocrites were going to be too! I lied to myself constantly, making a discipline of hardening myself to anything Christian; resisting any temptation to be moved by anything I had heard and had been stirred or touched by. Oddly enough, the Christians were the only ones trying to save me. I don't think an atheist, satanist, or buddhist ever cared that much. I was never going to allow myself to become a Christian - it would be the farthest thing from me. I took pride in myself and lived for me, self-exaltation, superiority, self-indulgence, etc. . . . self-styled.

I thought it was ironic that I went through so much depression. Later I acknowledged to myself that I was probably bi-polar. I wouldn't let it show because I didn't want to show any signs of weakness, even though I think I was the most insecure person I knew.

When I was six we lived next to some satanists who killed my neighbors pet rabbit and told the little girl about it. I still thought they were cool. Cops were there almost every weekend. They lived there for a couple of years and then moved. When I was in the fourth grade my older sister started a bible study with my older brother, her boyfriend, and four others; two people from the church, a gangbanger hiding from his gang, and yep, an ex-satanist. I wanted to know all about their past that seemed so glamorous to me. The ex-satanist, now preacher, was a pastor's son who watched his best friend get taken over by demonic possession. About a week later his friend died in a car accident on his way home from a ritual. The gang-banger lost his faith and stopped coming - I never heard what happened to him. I always wondered if his gang ever found him. I continued on my rebellious ways, still unsatisfied with life and running into depression. I was 8 when I almost got arrested (a subdivision board had mercy on me and didn't file charges-the police were involved). The same year I was almost expelled from school for property damage. When I was 12 I finally got arrested. I almost when to juvenile hall for that one. Inwardly and outwardly I was evil. Yet somehow I thought I was wiser and better than anyone! I should be dead or in prison right now. Anyway, I married my high school sweetheart when I was 20. I bought a house at the same time. I was high every day for the next two years, and drunk frequently. On the weekends I would wake up and put whiskey in my coffee. I was wretched yet self-righteous. I justified everything I did and in my head I was always right, and if somehow I couln't justify it I shoved that memory aside. I was happier than my wife because I made sure I won all of the arguments. I felt I was doing more than her because I brought home a bigger check. Most fights started because I thought I did more around the house, even though in all reality she did a lot. I just ignored it. And I didn't even stop and think for a minute that she was tired from working so much and worn out. On top of her stressful job, I had destroyed her self-confidence at home and made her feel worthless. I never hit her; I just made her feel like nothing. My wife loved me anyway. All in all I thought we mostly had a good marriage.

I could only keep the depression down for so long before it would flood me again. Sometimes I would lose all emotion and become apathetic. One night that was the case. I had just been through a low spot and had finally lost almost all feeling. I was pretty numb. I had what I thought was a moment of clarity. It was 2:00 A.M. and my high was wearing off. I took a vaguely honest look at my life. I admitted to myself I was a scumbag . . . too big for the bag anymore. All of my years before seemed wasted. I couldn't figure out the past puzzles that my mind wouldn't let me let go of. Like when I was four or five and was hitting my older brother over the head with a wooden hammer while he just sat there, holding the square block in his hand, just sobbing. (He wouldn't do anything else and neither would I. I couldn't figure out why he just sat there. Still, 20 years later and I still couldn't figure it out - he was four years older than me. Worst of all I thought, if my dad didn't catch me in the act what would have happened to my dear brother? Now I know that the Lord had intervened and stopped me from the evil thing I was carrying out.) Or what about the other many other mind-bending past mysteries? But I was in agreement with myself that I had had enough of myself, as did the rest of the world. I cursed the day I was born. I was going to do what I had thought about since I was a little boy in grade school. I finally had the guts, had seen behind every appealing promising trap, had sucked life dry, no longer felt responsible for anyone’s feeling I might hurt. I felt totally alien to the world. I felt as if I wasn't supposed to have been born, yet somehow was. I was named in honor after a miscarried cousin, somehow I felt I had been cursed or reincarnated. I was never going to write a suicide note, either. I didn't want to leave some sappy, self-pitying note for my family or friends. At the same time I didn't want anyone to have one of those puzzling memories haunting them, too. I tried to justify and explain it every way I could. I wrote a three-page note. I then decided I would not leave a note. So, I decided to stop wasting time and to get on with it. I very methodically took the hose off of the vacuum cleaner. I went quietly outside and taped up the hose to my tailpipe. I tied the back door shut and went inside. I thought I should have warmed up the engine because it was freezing inside. Then I realized it wasn't going to matter anyway. The fumes were surprisingly potent. All I had to do was close my eyes and take a nap. I was shivering too much to fall asleep, although I thought I would. I closed my eyes and felt a sudden tight, jerky, pull of despair within me. As if someone pulled a rip cord on the bottom of my heart and said "Man, didn't think it was gonna be like this. I never thought my life was going to turn out this way." A total sense of worthlessness and failure fell over me. For the first time I actually prayed and said "God . . . I'm sorry for the mess I've made." Next thing I know I'm thinking of how my wife reacted hysterically when she found her dead pet. Then I thought about what I would be doing to my wife. I didn't deserve her and she could have found a guy way better than me who would treat her right. And I couldn't help but see her going hysterical over finding me in the morning. And in my heart I knew she would snap. I don't think she could handle that. And I realized further what a jerk I really was capable of being. Ashamed and still alive, I turned off the engine and reversed my procedure. At 3-something A.M. I went to bed next to my wife.

While believing in a god, I started to live my life with a new positive outlook, yet I still lived in my sins. I thought I had gotten to know the God of the Universe and started to become kind of "spiritual" - I did a lot of searching. I thought I had lightened up on rebelling against God and started embracing Him. Yet I did not know Him. While trying one day to cross-reference something I had read in a book, I bought a Bible and started reading Revelations. I was instantly convicted and for the first time scared. For at that moment I knew I was an enemy of God and totally at His mercy. I knew then that the former sense of spirituality I felt was entirely false. I had no ground to stand on. I was afraid and knew that for whatever reason God had mercy on me and spared me from the plan I was going to carry out the few weeks prior. I knew at that moment that my life and the rest of my eternity were in God's hands. I felt very small at that moment. I cried out to God for mercy. I was face down saying from the depth of my heart that I was sorry for all the lies I had spoken about God. Shaking, I asked God to take over my life, that I couldn't do it anymore. My eyes were opened by God's grace and I knew the truth. The morsels of the gospel I had grown up with came back to me. I felt the love of God wash over me. I never thought God could actually love me with love as I have never known before. I read the Prodigal Son and cried. That God would take someone like me and call me His. Me, the guy who only cried a few times that I was aware of in my life - had poured everything out. I felt like a son loved by a Father he never knew before. One who made Himself known to me, and made my soul know His love for me. Something the devil tries to keep me from all of the time now. The fellowship that I long for. I knew Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. I knew God and forgiveness.

Day one of my new life. I burned about fifty books, which don't burn fast, threw out videos, some drugs, related devices, liquor, about half of my record collection - cds, etc . . . I decided to follow Christ. While I started out strong, I started to slip while new in the faith. Old ways within die hard and some never die at all. But Christ has given me grace and strength through it all. I've had my share of doubts, shaking sand. But Christ has always carried me through it. Thank God He won’t turn me away or let me be snatched out of His hand. He is the Father that does what is best for His children, whether they know it or not. And by His grace, He has brought me to Him. And I know my eyes have been opened, I knew reality as I knew it before was blindness. When my eyes were closed, and I was obliviously marching to a hell I thought would be cool while the devil was drooling right in front of my face and my eyes never saw it. I was on my way to hell, proud of it, never knowing how much the devil wants to murder you and see you fall from God's protection from evil. The spiritual death that happened to mankind was caused when the serpent (Satan, the father of lies, the evil one) tempted Adam and Eve to sin against God and they followed him and rebelled against God. Since then, man is naturally alive to sin and dead to God. This is the way it is. Man follows the devil, most times unknowingly, deceived into thinking that they are actually living for themselves, and/or following their own god. Or born-again man, by God's grace, follows the one True God; being one God in three persons; that is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. God, who has defeated the evil one by taking the death that we deserve upon Himself, in the body of Jesus Christ, who is the Son of God, and came from heaven, sent by His righteous Father, to be obedient to the Father, who laid His life down for the sheep (the lost are astray and are blinded in darkness under the dominion of the devil). By His mercy our eyes are opened, and we have a Savior of our souls and will be saved from our sins.

Christ came to save the sinners and heal the sick. He loves the hurting and comforts the afflicted. He heals the lame; He saves the dying. He spared Himself not, that we might live who have believed in His name. He was wounded and bled out for our sins. He took on Himself every lash from leather whips (put together pieces of rock and bone) which is what WE deserved. He took our pain and punishment on Himself. He gritted His teeth and out of love for us took every lash that tore His flesh to His bone. And when they spat on my Lord and tortured Him, they spat in His face and made him carry His own cross to die on. He was beaten so badly, he collapsed under the weight of it. They drove nails through his hands and feet. To breathe He had to pull Himself up on the cross by the nails in His hands to push up the diaphragm to take in air. While He was dying He was mocked. He said to His Father "It is Finished." Death could not hold Him and He took His life up from the grave on the third day as He said He would. He said our names would be written on His hands and by His stripes we are healed. He did this to save His children from the coming judgment. Mankind is already judged. Christ is our only justification. He said for the weary to come to Him, and to take on Hid yoke and learn from Him. He who Has the Son has the Father. He who does not have the Son does not have the Father.

I was born into a non-Christian family and at times my parents were hostile toward Christ. And yet God sought me. I was depressed much of my teen years, thinking often of ways to commit suicide. God lead me and spared me. Without Christ I would not be alive today. How he could love me so much to spare me is humbling. God reminds me that I have been born three times, and am indebted three times. God always used underhanded ways to mentor me. He brought people into my life. When I was 3-5 years old, my mom was ok with taking me to summer VBS. Two ladies there first told me about Christ and that was when I was convinced that Jesus was God. In my elementary years, I tagged along with my sister who was invited to afterschool Bible Studies where God brought Alice Gronas to teach me. My parents were indifferent to Christ but not opposed at that time. For a few years in elementary years, I participated in a mailbox Bible study. Mrs. Ken Perolez took time to write me and to grade my Bible study papers.

In 7th grade the low self esteem and depression started to grip me. I would get straight A's and feel utterly empty. In 8th grade, I attended Crossroad's youth group for about 4 weeks. Although I never did fit in and eventually left, Mr. Dewitt talked about the importance of reading the Bible. That was where I committed to reading the Bible every day, which I continue to do to this day. My parents became more hostile towards my faith in 10th and 11th grade as I attended First Church of God's youth group. My sister was invited by a friend and she invited me. God brought Pastor Randy Hood to bring up topics that started the healing from being suicidal. I would continue to battle depression for the next 10 years, slowing winning small battles. The Lord also mentored me through radio host James Dobson to give me a vision of truly Godly family. In my 20s Pastor Doug Estella was a real discipler, friend, and ally.

God would use me in youth ministry from 19-29 years. Still knowing the sting of my teen years, I was able to be there with them. The tables are turned now! And if God allows, there will be lasting impact in a few of these kids, who then may impact others. I was so arrogant and foolish at times, yet God was so patient with me and still used me. Indeed God does draw straight line with crooked sticks.

I'd like to encourage all those who deal with younger people. A little bit goes a long way. And most of the times, they will not come back to thank you until they can't reach you any more. So if you ever feel that you are treading water in vain, take heart. God is so good.