I come from a traditional Italian Roman Catholic family, so religion was a huge part of our upbringing. My mother’s sole primary general education, along with all her siblings and her eldest son of 9 years, had been acquired through a Catholic school system in Sicily, Italy. Attending a Catholic school system was not only traditional in Sicily, but it was also mandatory by tradition. When my family and I migrated to the United States in 1977, having left our home country and being unaware of any Catholic school system, my mother was adamant that my siblings and I would immediately attend Sunday Mass at a local Catholic church in Buffalo, New York. My parents however, would never attend. As a child, I never understood why she thought it so important that her children attend Sunday Mass or why she forced us to attend CCD (Confraternity Of Christian Doctrine) class. I remember distinctively questioning my mom as to why she was so adamant that her children became educated practicing Catholics, while she showed no such commitment.
Please understand, my mother was still very much Catholic and her faith has never faltered. Her marriage to my father was somewhat arranged and forced upon her by her traditional family values.
You see, in those days it was believed that once you were engaged to a man it was the equivalent of being married under the eyes of God.
Prior to her engagement she lived a very sheltered life under the constant protection and eyes of her family. She would tell me stories of her teen years in Sicily and how much fun she had engaging in activities with her siblings and friends. She said she was never allowed to do anything alone without at least one or all of her siblings present. Sometimes she wasn’t even aloud outdoors on her front porch without her father by her side.
Hearing these stories made me wish our family was just as close or even partially as close as she described. If you ask her she would tell you that although their intensions were good, she believes that her family’s constant watchful eye was unhealthy. She was very obedient and faithful to her family, their traditions, her husband and children under the Doctrine of Catechism.
My mother was 18 years of age and had no interest in men nor marriage at the time that she was introduced to my father.
My father whom lied about his age to her entire family was 32 when they engaged.
Soon after their engagement my parents moved into a very small apartment in Italy. They were very poor and didn’t have much to live off of. My mother quickly began to discover the many lies my father had told her and her family regarding his background. She also discovered his abnormal ungodly behavior. She had confided in her eldest sister coming to her with concern and fear that my father was not some one she should marry. My aunt believed my mother and made it her mission to reveal the truth about my father to my grandparents in the hope that this would relieve her sisters commitment to my father.
Unfortunately, aside from the beliefs my mothers family harbored on engagement as stated above, they also believed that once you are engaged it was for better or worse just as in marriage.
This meant that my mother was morally and physically committed to this engagement. Being obedient lead my mother to premarital pregnancy and according to tradition she had no choice but to marry my father despite her disapproval of him.
My mother unemployed and pregnant, spent most of her time at her parents home where she felt safe, supported, welcomed and loved.
They now had 3 children, myself being the youngest and only girl. Although things were tough on my mother, she found security and stability within such a godly family near by to support her through her trials with my father.
I’m uncertain of what it was that propelled my parents to migrate to the United States but when they did things changed for the worse.
My mother no longer had a second home as she had in Italy with her parents. She and my father rented the upstairs home of my uncles two family house in Buffalo. With my uncle, his wife and 3 children residing in the first floor of the house, my mother thought she would be safe here as well. As it turned out she wasn’t as safe as she had hoped to be.
With less family around to keep a close watch, my fathers behavior and alcoholism increased in severity.
My youngest brother had arrived amidst the abuse my mother was enduring. My father lost many jobs, friends and eventually we moved to Massachusetts.
At a very young age my siblings and I had began to become accustomed to feeling like outcasts in society due to my fathers uncontrollable behavior.
I was 5 when we moved out of New York to Massachusetts and this was were my mother enrolled me into CCD.
I recall being so upset about the move because we always had family around. Here, there was no family.
With no outside distractions or intervention, I began to take notice of my fathers behavior.
One night in particular that has always haunted me into my adult years was the night I heard my father raping my mother.
I did not understand what was happening but I understood enough to know by the sounds of what I was hearing that this was not normal.
My mother seemed to have been in a lot of pain. She was crying and pleading with my father to stop.
She kept crying out, “I don’t want to please stop”). I heard her cries over my fathers grunting yet calm voice, “Come on just lye still and let me do this.” The sound of him struggling to restrain her was what initially woke me out of my sleep. Hearing the grunts and cries,
my instincts had me calling out to my parents, while my fear kept me frozen and seated upright in my bed.
I was in a bedroom directly beside my parents bedroom. I shared that bedroom with my youngest brother who woke in his bed at the sound of my calls.
He was so young he has no memory of this at all as far as I know.
I called out, “I’m thirsty, can you get me a drink?” I remember feeling so anxious, fearful yet, compelled to do something to make whatever was happening in my parents bedroom stop.
It didn’t stop until he was finished and I never got my glass of water.
I spent the rest of that night curled up in a ball in my bed so frightened, confused and worried about my mom.
I realized later it wasn’t the first or last time this happened.
As I grew older their were plenty more incidents of violence and alcoholism in our home to witness. There was nothing ungodly or inhumane that my father wouldn’t or hadn’t done. He did everything from exposing himself to stealing from markets to beating his wife and children.
This left me with the inability to focus or concentrate on anything other than fear of what was to come. I struggled in school and had difficulty making friends. I used art and my imagination as a release. I remember going to the back yard of our apartment to get away from whatever sadness was happening in our home.
There was this huge valley in the back left side of our apartment that I would sit at the top of and imagine I was somewhat of a Snow White. I would sing and imagine that something magical was happening. As I got older I would rely on my creativity as an escape.
I danced, sang and decorated my bedroom with images, ribbons as well as barrow my families clothing to express my self through fashion.
I was never a rebellious child by any means. In fact, if you were to question my mother on my behavior she would say that I was an extremely well behaved most obedient child. She tells a story of a very quiet, soft spoken, little 4 year old girl who would come to her mother with her little hands out in front of her whispering, ” I’m sorry mama I know I was wrong, smack my hands.” Though I may have been obedient, I was also extremely inquisitive. She would also tell you that it wasn’t until I hit 16 years of age that I suddenly became very rebellious and that I would not listen!
At 16 I had enough! I had enough of being good, quiet and well behaved while my mom, my siblings and I had been forced to live a secretive life of verbal, physical and mental abuse. I had enough of watching my mom endure this and wither away to nothingness.
First, I began to plead with my mom to leave my father. She was alone in her struggle, a married, yet truthfully single mother, tired of trying to make it work without any support system other than her 4 children. She wasn’t ready to take on the financial burden, family ridicule or Catholic disappointment of divorce. I then began to embark on a severe case of depression and withdrawal. It started with my skipping classes. l felt extremely anxious and unable to concentrate. I remember feeling as if I was floating through the hallways invisible to everyone. My mother was advised to seek counseling for me. With the suggestions from the school councilor she did just that. One visit and my mind was made. I despised it! I was not going back their or back to school. I dropped out of high school and I would sit in my bedroom alone for hours replaying visions of how other families and friends behaved and their relationships. I wished our family could be something like that. I began to contemplate suicide. When my mother caught me in the cellar of our home in Massachusetts with a steak knife, first she yelled at me until I just broke down and then she listened.
All she could do was to plead with me to listen to her and do as she has done. I never once blamed her or God or anyone but myself.
Finally, I realized that I just had to move on with my life just as my mother did. Day after day she did what she could and became blind to the rest of it. I figured maybe this was the only way.
I stayed away from home as much as humanly possible. I would spend as many nights as I was allowed to spend over friends homes.
I enrolled in night school and made some friends who were into alcohol and drugs. At this point I thought well, why not do what everyone else does. I smoked marijuana and drank excessively. Again, I dropped out of school. I woke up one day after binge partying for several days without end and took a good look around me.
This was not me!
So I went home and went to work.
I continued to stay away from home as much as possible. I prayed so hard and for so long for just one good friend, and to be saved.
I knew I needed a hero, I knew all along I could not get through this alone.
At 18, I became very independent and I met a man who was interested in me, (so I thought). Meanwhile, my father’s behavior had grown from aggressive, dirty, manipulative and violently abusive towards all, to distinctively targeting me in the most uncomfortable way imaginable.
My mom had also hit her limit on obedience and finally dismissed my father from her life but for me it was to late.
I was an adult so, I took it upon myself to remove myself from everything and anything related to my father. When I met that man I quickly, there after, met his family. I was determined to make his family my family.
He and I started dating and all I could think was,
“YES! He is my ticket out,” (so I thought).
To be honest with you, I wasn’t even attracted to him in any way. I was attracted to his family.
One day he and I attended a carnival and for the first time in my life I realized there was plenty more trouble to come my way if I continued to make decisions on my own.
We were walking the grounds when he said to me, “look down and don’t look up at all. Just keep looking down.” I’m telling you I just laughed aloud in disbelief. He had to be joking.
He repeated what he had said yet again and that’s when I knew.
He wasn’t joking and I need help because even though I knew this was wrong I had every intension of continuing my pursuit.
As destiny would have it we walked into this tent that had a huge sign outside of it that read, “Are You Saved?”
Wow! That was my reaction to the sign. I walked right in without any hesitation. At the time I had not a clue what it meant. All I knew of for certain was that I defiantly needed saving.
I got saved that very day but I didn’t really know what that meant until many years later. Just as I didn’t understand what it meant to be Catholic. Being saved just sounded important at the time.
Next thing I knew I had moved into his mothers home and allowed myself to have unprotected premarital sex with this man. I became pregnant and felt so convicted because I knew it was wrong. Somehow, I always knew when something was wrong.
Eventually I bore my son and with him came Jehovah witnesses knocking on our door. I let them in and talked with them. After confiding with my soon to be mother in law, I decided to take on a bible study with the witnesses.
I became pretty dedicated to the organization but something wasn’t right. Why wouldn’t anyone celebrate birthdays or Christmas?
Well of cores they had an explanation but it just wasn’t enough for me. Something wasn’t right. It didn’t seem reasonable to me that we should be punished or have to with hold something that isn’t intended to be evil. You see the thing of it was that I could understand not participating in Halloween but Christmas and birthdays?
The problem with my disapproving discovery was that it lead me to further distance myself from my true calling.
I began to disbelieve everything and everyone.
Still lost confused and conflicted I married my sons father.
In order to avoid conflict I will just say he wasn’t a very Godly man then. He became heavily into drugs and it made him crazy until it made him sick. I wasn’t a very Godly women but I always felt for some reason that I was being excused. I thought maybe it was because I knew my faults and tried my best to correct them. It was a difficult year of marriage before we separated.
Upon separation I had lost my identity yet again and fell into a depression that lead to my relinquishing custody of my son to his grandmother. Losing my son to the battle of depression, I turned to moderate use of drugs and alcohol.
When the alcohol began to get out of control I immediately recognized it and stopped drinking to burry my emotions. I went on to yet another relationship with another man and bore a second child out of wedlock as well as adultery.
This man was also struggling with a lot of personal issues from alcoholism, drug abuse, to having been a victim of rape by a Catholic priest. After struggling with abuse and depression for far to long, as the advisory would have it, that relationship ended and I turned to Satanism.
They say your darkest hours are just before dawn.
This is the most difficult part of my testimony to write about because it was all around the darkest most difficult part of my life.
It was nearing the end of an 8 year commitment to my second child’s father. I was on the verge of losing everything including myself and more so my soul.
I was feeling so empty, so alone and so trapped. I felt as though I had lost all control and or connection to the world, I truly did not know who I was and did not recognize the sound of my own voice.
There was silence in my home.
It wasn’t a peaceful calm but an empty never ending abyss of nothingness.
I was invisible and numb again. After working in nursing, developing an injury and trying to hold my family together for years through abuse, I gave up and began to isolate myself yet again.
Recognizing this, I focused desperately on holding on to the little bits of myself I had left. I turned to the internets most popular social media site prior to the invention of Facebook to
express my inner most lost self through images and graphics as a means to reinvent and find myself.
I had been so let down by the real people in my life for so long that I stopped praying and started imaging my life as an artist or a magician.
Since I have always returned to the feeling of being invisible wouldn’t it be great to have control and power in such a state of being? No one could hurt me. No one could take me away or damage me. I could do whatever I wanted without feelings of guilt and I may even gain the power to control things.
With that in mind I began writing again. I posted poems on Myspace that people read, liked and commented on. My poems were dark cries for help disguised in mystical phrases and parables.
These poems granted me a lot of attention and praise that I was lacking in real life. I felt loved or admired by not only distant friends and family but also by complete strangers that I had addictively befriended for their love, admiration or approval.
Meanwhile in reality I was so alone and so isolated from the world.
I joined this group called Demons From Hell simply because I loved some of the members’ animated photo art. I didn’t think nothing of the name of the group or what it signified. I assumed it wasn’t real, after all its just Myspace. I suppose because I had not been myself or even knew who that was anymore, there was no longer a feeling of this is wrong. All I felt was numb and the need to immerse myself into art and creativity in order to find myself.
Art had always been my release. When ever I was feeling down I turned to art, music and my imagination.
I need to stop for a moment and ask, are you seeing the pattern here yet? Everything up to this point I did independently yet I was always dependent on something. I was blinded by my own grief to see it. The devil uses this sort of thing to lure you in. If you are not guarded with the Holy Spirit residing within you, the devil tempts you in such cunning ways that are unrecognizable to those who do not have a personal relationship with Jesus. I didn’t know that then.
At a time when I felt that everyone I’ve ever loved had let me down and abandoned me, I was lured into the devils hands using the one thing that had never let me down. The one thing I loved and could always rely on to lift me up from hardship. Satan had used the art of expression to entice me into his grasp and it worked like a charm.
I didn’t know it then but, Demons From Hell was a group created by atheists and wiccans. I wasn’t certain of what the groups intentions were until far after I had joined. At first site it was just a place were people who felt they didn’t fit in anywhere else were welcome to express themselves in whatever creative form they wished.
This was the appeal from the start.
As time went on I began to develop relationships with other members of the group and quickly became highly acquainted with its leaders.
This was something I longed for. A supportive family of sorts who had great respect for me as an individual. Their beliefs didn’t matter to me so long as it wasn’t harming me, themselves or anyone else I was open to learning more. As I learned of its members beliefs I kept my participation private from my real life family and friends. I assumed I had to because they wouldn’t understand. I spent more and more time with the group online to the point where it became my first priority. One member in particular really caught my interest when he attempted to cheer me up on a bad day.
I thought to myself, if a complete stranger could be more interested in my well being than the people who were currently in my daily life then there must be hope for me yet.
This drew me in further on a personal level. I began to ask questions about their beliefs and became highly intrigued by their moral codes more than anything.
Their moral codes were of such high quality and respect for one another that it didn’t matter to me that they didn’t believe in Jesus.
I began to question my own faith and beliefs.
Having spent so much time with this new online group of friends my confidence and feelings of purpose was growing. What I didn’t know was that I wasn’t finding myself I was transforming into something else. I was completely unaware of this for years.
As my relationship with a certain leader developed It began to get more serious and more real everyday and very quickly. Before I knew it I was having a conversation with him on my home phone while my boyfriend was at work and my daughter was in school.
In my eyes this was harmless as I didn’t hide anything from this man My relationship with my daughters father had previously dwindled away to a sort of roommate living condition.
I was planning on telling my daughters father about this new developing relationship but I was afraid.
As I said above he was abusive towards me and although we both agreed to separate soon, I knew that this could trigger a violent reaction. Needless to say he learned about my new friend quicker than I could disclose it.
He became very violent and abusive to the point where I was forced to leave the home and obtain a restraining order.
To make a long story short I continued my friendship with the leader of the group and underwent custody battles with my daughters father for a few years.
The next few years was torture on myself as well as my very young daughter. I fell further and further into what I regarded as my only support system which was the group and the leader.
At one point because I had no where else to go I reunited with my mother who was in her third marriage. This was a huge mistake as my mothers husband was also extremely abusive.
After years of fighting my daughters father and struggling to obtain and maintain a safe roof over our heads, I reluctantly relinquished custody of my daughter to her father. Upon hearing the news of this horrible event the leader of the group had introduced me to Anton LeVayes Bible.
At first read, I dropped it frightened me and I stopped reading immediately. With the understanding that the denunciation of all Gods was stated as being a requirement of admittance into this lifestyle of atheism, up until then everything seemed harmless but this. Something about this didn’t sit right with me. It didn’t seem so harmless however, it didn’t stop me from further inquiries.
I asked the atheists more questions and moved further and further away from everything good I had ever learned about Jehovah God and Jesus. The leader I was telling you about had a strange yet interesting screen name so I inquired as to what it meant. He wouldn’t say anything more than Vassago was a founder of lost things. I began to place the pieces of the puzzle together and learned that Vassago was actually a fallen angel or a demon. When I learned this I went straight to Vassago with more questions. The answers although dangerous were intriguing. Magic and mystery played a big role in my enticement. I began to feel so free of any inhibitions that this feeling had lead me to believe I was imprisoned prior. Imprisoned and poisoned by religious rules that were designed to make me feel as though I was inadequate and unworthy or incapable of anything good. I then began to despise religion and acquired a great admiration towards Vassago the imaginary character not the actual man behind the name but I didn’t realize it then. Vassago, the founder of lost things found me.
The thought of being imprisoned for so long and finally feeling set free gave me a false sense of empowerment over things I couldn’t possibly control. I became obsessed with the idea that I could also be imprisoned yet, be in total control at the same time. This would inevitably give me an advantage over all men. Vassago encouraged these thoughts in me so that when I felt comfortable and confident I turned to him to enslave me and be my master.
We then embarked on a sexually based highly sinful relationship.
Later Vassago didn’t always want to be known as or play Vassago. He wanted to be both entity and man. He proposed and made plans to meet with me in person, introduced me to his family, all the while still playing, man, master and Vassago. It was getting pretty serious and the more real it became the more I began to feel that old feeling of this is not right. Imagination was one thing, but reality was yet another all together different scenario.
Though I never denounce the name of the God Head, I did experiment and dabble in the dark arts. Immediately warned by that constant protective voice, I put a screeching halt to any practices that I felt might be harmful. Eventually I stopped all communication with Vassago and went straight to The founders and leaders of the real satanic community. Though I didn’t whole heartedly identify myself as an atheist, I was not ready to be rid of that false sense of empowerment. For years soaked up as much knowledge about the occult as possible. For years I heard that little voice telling me no.
What happened next was undoubtedly Gods saving graceEverywhere I went the protective voice in my head became louder and louder and insisted on my attention. People, sinners, people I saw as weak foolish hypocrites, would always say things like God bless.
It was as if I was surrounded by constant hidden messages directed towards me. I kept trying to ignore the messages I was receiving until I no longer could. I met Tom, Tom is a Christian who grew up attending Catholic school. He is unlike any Christian I had ever met. He never once excused his faults or flaws and never once lost his faith in the face of adversity. I immediately felt connected to him and could not shake the feeling. One day Tom text me God Bless and I responded by cursing God. He didn’t tell me as much until later in our relationship, but he was very disappointed and disapproved of my response. He told me later that my response to his text had him contemplating never speaking to me again but God had other plans for us. He had invited me to his house and he didn’t have much of anything to brag or be proud of other than his radio and his Bible.
His dedication to his faith was so prominent in his everyday life that it constantly inspired multiple conversations on the topics of Christianity, Jesus, the Catholic faith and the King James Bible. Just about everything we discussed lead us into a conversation on various scripture. Tom attended his Christian services just about two to three times a week. If he was not attending service he always had a Christion radio station blaring in his home 24/7.
I began spending more and more time with Tom and eventually I moved in to his home. Soon Tom had discovered a program that would come on the radio every weekday morning at around 5 am.
He encouraged me to listen with him but I was still a little hesitant.
I began to confide in Tom telling him about my family, my childhood and experiences with religion. I remember telling Tom it wasn’t that I didn’t believe in God or Jesus but that I wasn’t sure that everything in the bible was true. I also told him that I didn’t believe in people attending any religious congregation because in my experience it seemed that those people were the most violent and disappointing people I have ever known. All Tom would say in response to this was that we are all sinners and that is exactly why we need to draw closer to God. About a year later after my mom had finally left her abusive husband and was feeling alone, lost and weak. Tom suggested that we drive to North Carolina and move her into our home.
Throughout my struggles in the years past prior to meeting Tom I would talk to mom about how difficult it had been living alone. I told her that I don’t know how to continue on and she would always tell me to go to church. I of course would argue with her that her husband was a member of her church yet he was still very abusive so how was church going to help me if everyone who attends is crazy.
My mom would say you don’t need to worry about that and not everyone in church is like that. She would say you just need to go so that you can reconnect with God on a personal level. You need it and you will feel better she said. So when Tom and I drove to North Carolina my mom along with Tom convinced me to attended my moms Catholic church before we left North Carolina.
I was so nervous and my initial fear was that I would not be inspired but feel abandon by God. I was so wrong. Something quickly came over me and I literally felt compelled to drop to my knees to speak to the lord in prayer.
I told him I was sorry, that I know he knows my heart and its not that I didn’t believe in him but that I needed a dad. I told him I’ve been so alone, so broken and so let down. Tears began to fall from my eyes when suddenly I felt this warmth, calm and comfort come over me.
As I lifted my head up and just before I opened my eyes completely I saw a white robe. I felt he wrapped me in it and said I am your father, I will never leave you. it was Jesus and he was hugging me, comforting me and reassuring me.
I have a father!
I have a father! There was no doubt in my mind that he had always been with me. When we left the church I was so excited I told my mom and Tom what happened. I felt so revived, so loved yet still I was unsure of my purpose. I knew that this was an extraordinary event and that it has to mean more than I knew.
Things resumed as usual except when we returned home I began to attend Toms church. I also began listening to that Christian program on the radio. It is called In touch with Charley Stanly. I fell in love with Charley he became my friend. I was having difficulty keeping up with it being that it came on so early in the morning so I found the website of In touch Ministries and downloaded the phone app. I decided I needed to rededicate myself to Jesus so not only did I get saved again but I was also water baptized. However, this didn’t stop the evil in the world from getting to me so I purchased a Bible and Tom and I began to study it using another book called Journey.
Journey is a study book Tom’s brother had gifted him that focused on making disciples of Jesus.
Just as we got to the chapter in the book that spoke about the God head and the Holy Spirit, the topic of becoming baptized in the Holy Spirit kept coming up everywhere.
It was all over Charley Stanly’s daily devotion recordings as well as discussed frequently in our church. Both Tom and I wanted to learn more about this so Tom spoke to one of the leaders in our church about it.
Markus, one of our church leaders, began to excitedly tell us about it and asked are you ready to receive the Baptism of the Holy Spirit?
We were very ready but none of us were aware of what might happen to me during until it happened. Before he laid hands on us and began to pray, Markus said to us I’m sure you have done some really bad things in your past and you think you might be undeserving of such a blessing…I had quickly responded with, “Naah I know I haven’t done anything that bad.”
When Markus laid hands on me and began to ask the lord for the blessing on my behalf, I was resisting the ability to speak in tongs. I would whisper or my mouth was moving but nothing would come out. We quickly learned that it wasn’t all of me that was resisting it was something else that was attached to me. Markus said to me don’t resist and I began concentrating on the presence of the Holy Spirit. Knowing something was wrong while the Holy Spirit was working hard I dropped to the floor.
Markus became extremely serious and used his voice to cut through whatever was happening to me to ask me if I had ever participated in any occult activities or practices. It took all of me to nod my head yes.
Next thing I knew I was feeling so many strange things that I still can not fully explain. I felt as though I was in a rem sleep where I had to focus on the voices surrounding me to hear them. I heard Markus along with two other women praying in declarative stern voices, saying things like she is a child of God, she belongs to Jesus!
They were also advising me in comfort to allow the Holy Spirit to heal me. Afterword I was feeling so convicted, I could not stop the tears and the feeling of sorrow for things I had done. I remained this way for days. All I could think of was this satanic book I had hidden in my dressing room. Though I hadn’t touched it in years other then to hide from anyone who might read it, I knew it had to be removed.
I didn’t know how to get rid of it properly so I told Tom about it.
We knew we had to do something but I think we both thought I may have been to vulnerable to be near it at this time because I just stayed away from that room for a while.
As I became stronger in my faith we didn’t feel the presence of the book could harm us so we just left it where it was until we figured out what to do with it.
Being saved literally saved my life and this testimony is proof. I am confident that if I had not walked into that tent so long ago I wouldn’t have heard the voice of Jesus guiding me through all of my life’s trials as it still does. I am also confident that when I was emerged into that pool in proclamation of my willingness to die of my old self I wouldn’t have learned the importance or being reborn. Had I not received The Baptism of the Holy Spirit I could not have been rid of my hidden demons. I might of never have been fully healed and I could not have been transformed and continue to be transformed into who and what God had intended me to be.
Since being baptized in the holy spirit, I no longer feel as enslaved as I once was by worldly sinful fleshly desires such as pornography, money, depression and so on. Of course as long as I live on earth these things will continue to tempt me and I will continue to fall into sin, but the difference is now that I know Jesus and understand Christianity I also know love. I know my purpose and I know who to turn to. I know who will lift me up, and bring me clarity. I know I’m safe, never alone and that I can encourage inspire and lift you up to God in the name of Jesus.
Before I go on from here I want to tell you that the satanic book was burnt. I also want to tell you that though it has been difficult to relive and reveal my past through this testimony, I wrote this for you.
I know that the world hardens us and that we place blame because we sometimes feel this is the only way to live, survive or thrive in this world. But our God and our savior brought us here on this page to lift us up from whatever emptiness dissatisfaction or hardships we may be facing because he loves us that much. He has given us each individual gifts and talents to enjoy in the most positive way.
You can learn with immeasurable confidence how you can use your gifts and talents in the most enjoyable positive way that will not only increase your satisfaction and fulfill your soul with joy and light, but also continue to grow and influence many others through the infinite love and power of Jesus.
All you have to do is ask. Do not think or worry just ask Jesus to come into your life right now. You will see for yourself that he will do the rest and he will not let you down.