The Prodigal- Jon’s Story

Posted in January 2008

This was written by Jon, a friend of Luz Leigh. Jon is a quadriplegic who lives in Florida and has caregivers who see to his needs a portion of each day. Jon’s sister and her family live in his home with him. This story was originally written about 2 years ago and except for a few grammatical corrections, these are his words. With Jon’s permission, the corrections were made for clarity and did not change the intent of the story.

Although I have only known Jon for a short time, I have come to see a very loving, caring, dedicated Christian man. He wants to encourage others, never drawing attention to his disabilities. Jon uses an on-screen keyboard. These are used by individuals who need an alternative to the physical keyboard. Using two fingers, Jon types his words, At the time I met Jon in early 2008 he had just celebrated his 39^th birthday. Almost 17 of those years he has been paralyzed. Now read what Jon wrote about his life….his testimony.

      It all started when I was 2 or 3 years old. My dad was involved in a car accident. His truck was T-boned by another car. He was ok, just was in the hospital for a couple days for observation. I can't remember much, I just remember him sitting in a wheelchair waiting for us to pick him up. He looked like he hadn't shaved for a week.

      I would pray for him all the time, Even though I had not had the salvation experience. See, he slipped a disc in his lower back and fractured a vertebra. I don't remember when actually, I just remember him walking around like Bella Logosi in The Mummy. Always dragging one leg.

      Well I went to a private Christian school. Dad busted his rump, just so he could afford it, because the public school education system was bad and getting worse. He also wanted us kids to have our mom at home. My parents also didn't want us kids to be latch key children. So dad worked from before dawn until 7 or 8 at night. 

      Now I remember sitting on his shoulders and playing with his flat top haircut as we walked to church. Which we did a few times. Our church was just down the street and across a major highway. Now it wasn't very major, but to a little kid it might as well been freeway. I was involved in couple of children’s activities, but I was so shy, I just liked my couple friends and kids in the neighborhood.

      I would go everywhere with my dad. I was a daddy’s boy. It's like momma’s boy, except I was my dad’s shadow. Now don't get me wrong. I loved my mom immensely, but if dad was available, I wanted him. I been like that all my life. When I was a baby, if I had an earache or something, I wanted dad to rock me. Please don't think bad of my mom; I just wanted dad. 

      When I was about 6 years old or so, I got mad with some kid at church; for what, I don't remember; but instead of dealing with it, I left the church grounds without telling anybody. I was going home. It was around 8 o'clock at night. Another case of my temper getting the best of me. Everyone was looking for me and calling me. I just ignored them. Well my parents found me when I was half way home. I lost my temper and my dad helped me find it. 

      Same kind of thing happened when I was 4; not same kind of incident exactly. I had lost my temper, but that time I screwed myself. My dad was replacing the asphalt in driveway. .well when you put asphalt down you set it on fire so it melts down and also bonds to the old stuff. 

      My dad had an old, heavy tamper. Little genius that I was; I saw dad trying to put the fire out, I thought. So I threw a handful of sand on it. Not a good thing to do. Well dad tells me not to that. A few minutes later I did it again. This time he popped my bottom. Nothing was hurt except my pride. Well I took off running, with my eyes shut. Right into dad’s open truck door. I busted my forehead open. At the time it wasn't funny, but now, looking back it makes me laugh hysterically every time I think about it. Don't think that my parents were bad people. I did it to myself with my temper. I had a stubborn streak a mile long, still do. I just have more patience now, (like I have a choice?)

      I had a great childhood. My dad use to let me sit in his lap and put my hands on steering wheel as we drove around town. I'm sure some people that are reading this are saying, HE SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT! Well hey, it was my childhood and I loved it! By the time I was 7 I was big enough for me to drive with him sitting in passenger seat while I would drive to the dump. I learned to drive just by watching my dad. 

      That was including vehicles with a stick shift too. His work truck had a column shift. When I was 15, I was helping my sisters learn to parallel park; I never officially learned to drive a stick shift vehicle, I just did it; And they still can't drive stick shift vehicles. 

      At the age of 5 or so, we had a man come to our school and share the message about the crucifixion, death, burial and resurrection, of JESUS CHRIST. It was the Wednesday before Easter Sunday and after I got back to the classroom, my teacher gave an invitation to invite JESUS CHRST into my heart. I wanted that more time more than anything. I guess that God has had his hand on me for my entire life. 

      When I was 5 or 6 a friend in my class had an accident with his dad’s gun. He was playing with his dad’s shotgun while he was at work; he dropped it and it went off, and it blew his shoulder apart. His mother was one of my dad’s customers. So I went on a service call with my dad, to his house, and visited him for a couple of hours.

      I have always been a compassionate person. My dad, at that time, was a television repairman, and back then people made house calls.

      I was almost molested by a young girl in the neighborhood, because I'm a helpful person. She said she was looking for a cat. She said she saw it in my next door neighbor’s back yard. They coincidentally were not home. Well, I did kiss her a few times. My dad fortunately started yelling for me; or more had happened; I was only maybe 3 or 4.I still started thinking about sex too early. Maybe it all started way back then. (My attraction to sin)

      When day I was about 7 my dad takes us out to sandy, dirty piece of land out in the woods west of town. We walk about and look all over it, and he asks us if we would like live out here one day. We all say sure. Not really thinking he is serious. Now I love being out in the woods, but I had no idea he was serious about it. He had a back still and I figured he needed to be near the city. Little did I know how much it would become over crowded with sidewalks, traffic lights and stop signs; and now it's all paved. 

      He bought 5 acres. So for about the next 4 years my dad and mom, with a little help from my uncle, built a nice 2 story house, separate garage and a convenience apartment behind it. He built the apartment for my grandmother. After a few years my grandmother moved to FORT MYERS, FLORIDA. and so now we had a good guest house, for when company came for a visit. 

      My 10th birthday was my first birthday in the house my dad built. We even started going to a new Baptist church. We were raised Baptists, but really I guess we were non denominational; because my attitude was, GOD did it before and he can do it again; NO BIG DEAL! 

      That was just the way I felt. I remember all the Old Testament Bible stories I had heard in school, and I wasn't surprised by the miraculous. One Sunday morning my dad woke up very excited…. the reason? He had woke up and without even thinking about it, he sat up straight in bed, without any pain in his back. See for years he had to roll onto his side, and push himself into a sitting position using his arms; and my mom had to put his pants on, up to his knees. She also had to put his socks and shoes on for him. Then he would go to work.

      The doctor tried to make stop working and stay in bed, but he told the doctor that he would hurt whether or not he worked, so he would rather work. My dad couldn't stand not doing something.

      Now I suppose the reason my parents didn't tell anybody about his healing, except friends, because Baptists didn't really believe that miracles happen, I guess; or maybe I just was never around when they talked about it. I didn't tell people just because it wasn't that big of a deal to me. I GOD SAID IT, I BELIEVED IT, THAT SETTLES IT! In my opinion. 

      Well my dad and I did a lot of work on the church; my mom was the treasurer/bookkeeper and when we started attending that church it had a bare concrete floor and about 4 rows of mismatched chairs. My dad was in prison ministry, mom would buy the prisoners children gifts at Christmas time; not with her money; she managed the churches money. I'm not saying my sisters didn't do anything; just I was a kid; I wasn't concerned with what my sisters did. I JUST DON'T REMEMBER! Well I was baptized when I was 11, in that church. That church was a big part of my life. I'd seen it grow from just bare floors and walls, to carpeting and many members.

      One day a very large man was baptized in our baptismal pool and his weight broke the drain and the water went all under the stage. .My dad volunteered to fix it. He crawled under the baptism tank to replace the pipe. From laying on his back and with his head turned at a strange angle. He got a pinched nerve in his neck. He was in severe agony. 

      He went to chiropractor every week with no improvement. He decided to accompany my mom to a women's AGLOW meeting; because he had a doctor’s appointment later and he was in such pain he needed something to occupy his mind. I guess being Baptists we were never taught about healing and miracles. But we weren't against them either; and Baptists aren't very keen on women preachers. 

      The guest speaker asked people if anybody needed healing? My dad reluctantly got in the line. He kept stepping back, letting people go ahead of him; until it finally became his turn. He told me that after the lady laid hands on him, he don't even know what she said, until she had him remove his neck brace and move his head around. He was completely healed. He went to the chiropractor’s office that afternoon; and he poked, prodded and twisted. He said to my dad; I DON'T UNDERSTAND IT, BUT EVERYTHING IS BACK IN PLACE! 

      That Sunday us kids didn't go to church, but my parents did. When my parents got home, they told us that the pastor said that healing was from the devil when my dad’s friend stood up and announced that my dad’s neck had been healed.

      That was when I started going kinda wild. Our family and a few other families left that church and started attending an ASSEMBLY OF GOD church, (We were given the left foot of fellowship.) I wasn't rude or nothing. I just stopped attending church on a regular basis. Then year after year, I did more and more bad things.

      At the age of 12 I tried chewing tobacco, at age 14 cigarettes, at 15 I had a couple very minor scrapes with the law, and at 16 marijuana and alcohol. I started becoming very daring. Running with worldly friends. Not what you call bad people. Just getting drunk, smoking marijuana and staying out all night and partying. No drug or alcohol poisoning or nothing. Just being stupid or acting the fool. I came close to being killed or seriously maimed a few times. 

 Got in a car accident and was knocked unconscious because I wasn't wearing a seatbelt. My friend and I pulled out of a convenience store just near an intersection. The speed limit at the store was 20mph, but after the intersection was 45mph. I made a joke about ramming speed and slouched down in the seat. A girl was coming in from the other direction and she turned right in front of us. Well all I remember is yelling an expletive and the next thing I remember is waking up crumpled up on the floor board of my buddy's truck. He had a sprained wrist from pushing the steering wheel through the windshield. A friend went through the back window of his buddy’s truck when he was playing around and slammed on his brakes. 

My friend and I were riding our 3 wheelers through the woods, we pulled out onto a dirt road and my friend was hit by a truck. When I was in the 8th grade, a buddy was riding in his brother’s jeep. He was horsing around; stuck his head out and hit a sign with his head; he spent about 3 weeks in the hospital;

      When I was 15 I had a long time friend come for a visit, I took him out for a ride on my 3 wheeler. I was riding on top of a long hill about 30 or 40 feet high. I just been on it the day before, so I wasn't expecting it to be being cut up with a front end loader. The dirt was being loaded into dump trucks and hauled away. Long story short, I was traveling at about 20 mph, showing my friend about and wasn't paying attention. I didn't have any brakes; I suddenly saw that I was about to ride off about a 15 foot drop off. Thinking quickly, I gunned the throttle and pulled up on the handlebars; that was just enough to make me land on 3 wheels at the same time. The bad part was, my friend pushed down on my shoulders and stood up, pushing me down on the gas tank. My back was messed up for a couple weeks. 

      Not long after that I was flying along going at least 50 mph. I wasn't stopping for paved roads. Just zooming across them. Well there was a Ford van coming down the road. I was downshifting furiously and stomping on the brake pedal that I had tied up, because I didn't have any brakes. Well to shorten the story. My front tire missed the van’s back bumper by 3 inches. I was certain I was about to die. There was a girl in the passenger seat of the van. I could hear her screaming at the top of her lungs, seeing me coming down the road toward them. And I was still traveling at about 20mph. I should be, by all accounts, dead! Yet all my life, God has been watching over me. Satan has been after me a long time. 

      I used to live in, WEST PALM BEACH, FLORIDA. Then we moved up here to OCALA FLORIDA, I didn't know anybody, yet, I somehow got ahold of marijuana easily. Again I started the party lifestyle. Except I also started learning to be a mechanic. I was a very good at one. I was well thought of; as a mechanic. I also got heavy into cars, working on them and racing them.

      I shared a house with a friend when I was 19. I gave away my virginity at that time to a 18 year girl. That was a big mistake. Because when we broke up, I even went a little more wild. She had not been a virgin; I had been one; and I fell in love. So now I really didn't want anything to do with girls after that. Just cars, work and partying. I was training to be manager of the shop I was working at. I wasn't hired as a manager. GOD just showed me so much favor with people, along with my natural eagerness to learn things! 

      One Saturday right after spring break, we decided to go to Daytona Beach. On Palm Sunday, March 24 or 26 1991, I was at Daytona Beach with some friends. We were throwing a nerf football back and forth, in and out of the water. Four friends were in the water; and a guy and I were on the beach. After a few minutes; that guy and I decided to run into the water. There was a little wave coming in and I decided to dive under it; just to get my hair wet.

      Well, I don't know what exactly happened, but it my hit head on something and I bit my lip. Hard enough I tasted blood. I could move my arms and fingers and talk still, but I just barely touched the sand, and didn't have the strength to lift myself up or anything. Here’s the strange part. I was not panicking or nothing, cuz I was face down. A strange peace was on me. I was on in water maybe 15 or 20 seconds when 2 of my friends grabbed me under the arms and dragged me to the beach. I have NEVER been an excitable person, and this was no different. People were touching me here, to see what’s paralyzed; I could still talk and use my and fingers. (I was thinking; people, leave me alone, I'm ok! (WELL BESIDES THE FACT I'M PARALYZED FROM THE CHEST DOWN.)

      Well 7 hours later I had a brain stem stroke. Whatever wasn't paralyzed before, was now; and now I can't speak. I have regained a little movement in my arms and fingers; and now I can eat and swallow and sit in the wheelchair without a headrest. I'm a heck of a long way from where I need to be, but thank GOD I’m not where I use to be. I was saved at the age of 7; around 11or12 I began backsliding, until the accident; I can honestly say. I'd rather be paralyzed with JESUS, than completely whole without HIM.

      I spent 10 months in 3 different hospitals. I was in Hallifax hospital in Daytona Beach, for 4 months; 2 months of that time, I was in a coma. One day the nurse was giving me a bath. I had been on a respirator and because she was bathing me, she disconnected me from the respirator and put a mask pumping pure oxygen on my open trach. She noticed that I wasn't having any trouble breathing so she talked to the respiratory doctor and from that moment on, I was never on the respirator again. 

      I didn't like the respiratory doctor because he didn't talk to me, he ignored me and just talked over me and talked to my dad. My dad knew I didn't like him. When he would want me to breathe for him so he could listen to my lungs; I would stop breathing. 

      Then about 2 months later; I went to a small hospital in AUBURNDALE, FLORIDA. In that hospital they removed the long trach from my neck and put a little plastic trach in my neck called an Olympic button. It covered and closed the hole, but a person could still access my lungs for suctioning. You may be wondering what suctioning is. I have no voluntary cough, just a reflexive one. Means that I can not cough on command or clear my throat; so, from time to time I need the mucus sucked out of my lungs, with a suctioning machine. While I was there I became mad, really mad at the situation. Not at any one person, but I blamed God. One day my parents said something about God and I said; I don't believe in God anymore! Now, that really wasn't true, I just needed to blame somebody. I could no more stop believing in God; than I could've stopped believing in the wind. One day I broke down and started crying uncontrollably. One nurse and an occupational therapist hugged me and repeatedly wiped my tears. This went on for a couple hours. I was there for 2 months. 

      Then it finally seemed that things were changing for the better. A male nurse was talking to my parents about a small rehabilitation hospital near my home that his wife worked at. Well my parents made all the necessary arrangements. I would come to a rehabilitation hospital only 45 minutes from my home. Less then 24 hours from that time I was scheduled to be transferred. The Florida governor LAWTON CHILES tried to abolish Medicare. Now everything was straightened out eventually, but for me and many many Medicare patients, we were scrabbling for help.

      I was sent to TAMPA GENERAL REHAB. I know many people talk about how great that place is; but in my personal opinion, that place sux! All they did for me was warehouse me; the same day I was admitted, they told my parents that when the funding runs out, I will be discharged. Talk about government bureaucracy! Then when I finally was discharged, they told my parents that they wouldn't be able to care for me; put him a nursing home. My dad said, WATCH ME! and he put me in the car and brought me home.

      When I got home there was already a hospital bed set up and a manual wheelchair there. I was just so glad to be home; I had been in 3 different hospitals in exactly 10 months; and I came home the day before my birthday. Guess when my birthday is? Christmas day. I later learned that my dad’s brother tried to get my parents to put me in a nursing home. (Some family huh?)

Well basically that is what it took to get me back in church and serving the Lord again. Now I know that just going to church no more makes you a Christian, than a bath and red ribbon will make a pig into a poodle. The 2 greatest gifts were; coming home and a little yorkie-poo puppy. My parents gave her to me the day I came home. At first I named her precious. My dad kept saying; that’s not a name, that’s a description, not a name. Well I ended up naming her RUNT; she was the runt of the litter, the only female and the only one of a different color. All the puppies were black males and she was a champagne colored female.

      About a week later, my parents took me to church. It wasn't a big church; only 20 or 30 people plus children. Kind of small but friendly. I knew just about everyone there. The pastor was my parents’ lawyer, as well their friend. I remember his wife and him having supper with them one Friday night as I was getting ready to go out. My mom told me the next day, that I had made a big impression on them because I was not ashamed to show affection to my parents, in front of them, like their son. LIKE MOST TEENAGERS! I've been that way all my life. Polite to strangers and elders. Heck I even say yes mam/sir no mam/sir to kids younger than me. 

      I've been paralyzed approximately 17 years now, since the accident; I think. (I'm a man and we men are terrible with dates and for asking directions.) One weekend my parents had been invited to a friend’s home in North Carolina, for a break. He and his family use to go to church with us, when I was a teenager. It was his wife and him that invited my mom and dad to the women’s’ AGLOW meeting where my dad’s neck was healed.

      Anyway! They even told my parents that they would pay for their airfare; and my mom was scared to fly. But it was chance for a small vacation. When they got back my mom had constant irritable cough; she couldn't get rid of it. She finally went to the doctor, but it was too late. She contacted viral pneumonia. She had to have her lungs drained of the fluid that built up. The worst part was; the viral pneumonia caused congestive heart failure; all because airplanes recycle their air. (Now that’s just my opinion). My dad started doing everything. He wouldn't let her do anything, from the dishes and the cleaning, to taking care of me. 

      I one day asked my mom why hadn't Dean visited me. Dean was my best friend. My mom tells me to wait til my dad gets home. So when my dad gets home I ask him. He tells me that was Dean killed on his motorcycle about 6 months after I got hurt and my dad didn't want to upset me while I was still in the hospital.

      One day my mom tells me that she and my dad are going to have a house built on the lot next door. My mom met with the architect to design it with a wider hallway and doors. My dad had his own business; so he left at 4 in the morning, and come back around 11 in the morning. Then he and my mom would eat lunch; take care of any business that needed to be done; then my dad would get me up in the wheelchair and we would go out the garage; listen to some talk radio while he got things done for the next day. It wasn't the ideal situation, but looking back, it was great. (I guess what they say is true; you never miss the water til the well runs dry).

      Then about 4 years later my dad comes in from a doctor’s appointment and tells us that he has been diagnosed with colon cancer. I didn't know how serious colon cancer was. Now I don't mean that cancer wasn't serious. I didn't know colon cancer killed so quickly. My dad and I use go outside after he and my mom were finished eating lunch. We would stay outside til just before dark, listening to talk radio and getting ready for the next morning’s work. Then dad would put me in bed and he and my mom would eat supper while I watched tv. Then he would come back to my room and feed me. Thank God, my dad was in business for himself; so could set his own hours. 

      It's not all bad news. I have made some progress. I used to not even have the strength to click a computer mouse or eat and drink, I couldn't sit in my wheelchair without trunk support or a head rest. Now I don't need support of any kind and I can drive my electric wheelchair with my left arm. So I have much to be thankful for. 

      Now I have to just take it day by day. It's frustrating when I think about where I was physically and now. I have help doing just about everything; but praise God, still have my mind and it's as sharp as ever, maybe sharper! You know the doctors, when I was in a coma still, told my dad that I would be a blind vegetable. Now that my mind is not clouded by drugs and alcohol, I have almost a photographic memory. I wish I could tell you that everything is fine now and that I'm walking and talking now. I'm not though.

      I do get depressed quite often; saying why God why? and when God when? But after I calm down, I realize that God is in control and I am going to spend eternity with him; and that is a long time. You're probably wondering why I call this The Prodigal. Well because I was always a good kid, I didn't get into real trouble; then I started doing things like first trying chewing tobacco, then looking at pornography, then trying to be cool I started smoking cigarettes; then I tried marijuana, really crappy quality marijuana; but then my friend bought some quality stuff, after that, I was hooked. Now, I never tried cocaine or harder drugs, yet I really got into drinking alcohol and partying. I just want people to understand. No matter what you have done, you have never gone so far that you are out of God’s love. 

      I'm not going to sit here and blow smoke up your butt. Life doesn't become great just because you're a Christian. Yes, I do get mad at God; then I think about it and it's not HIS fault. My mom kept putting off going to the doctors, making excuses; saying it's not that bad. My dad finally went with her making her tell everything, but the damage was done. And dad was an extreme workaholic, never letting his body rest. And if I had been behaving myself, I wouldn't have been at the beach that day or messing with drugs. I get asked a lot why I always say, I'm chatting on the computer. The reason is, it won't change anything, and I won't let satan know he has gotten to me. Satan can't read your thoughts, but he can read your computer screen. I just know that this life is just temporary; eternity is forever. 

      The only thing that makes a person become a Christian is repentance of your sinful ways and acceptance of JESUS CHRIST (YESHUA HA MESHIAC in Jewish), as your Lord and Saviour. God father, the creator of the universe, sent his only naturally born son to die in your place. To pay for the sins you committed in your sinful nature. Now you ask, so you have to be perfect? Absolutely not! That is an impossibility. God know we make mistakes. The blood of JESUS CHRIST washes away the penalty. See God is absolutely perfect and the penalty for sin is death; but JESUS paid the price for us; all he asks is that we accept him as Saviour. 

      I'm not a preacher or nothing like that, I just don't want anybody to have to spend a eternity separated from God, in hell. I would rather that you think that I'm a complete fool, as long as you spend eternity in paradise with God. Satan thinks he finally has won! But now I'm not afraid to proclaim my faith to anybody. Satan should have left me alone, I was backslidden and had no plans to change. 

The following was submitted by my friend Tommy, who uses the pen/screen name of Baachus.

Easter Holiday

Written by Baachus - February 2008

      As I sit and think about the approaching Easter Holiday, I think about how the Christian world and peoples celebrate this holiday as the day our savior gave his all........I think also about how that same man Jesus will come back.

      It is also the Passover, which commemorates the time when the angel saw the blood on the doors of his people, and would pass over them and then go to finish the task that he was to do. But what is important, is when he saw the blood, the blood that was a symbol of the times when a savior would come to this world and shed his own blood, that we could pass from death unto life. Eternal life......promised to us by a faith in a loving and kind God that so loved the world that he would give his only begotten son, that we could be partakers of this holy promise.

       I tried to think of some scripture that would be good to write at this time. We have all heard the stories and read the good words of God, about how Mary on the 3rd day went to the tomb and the man that was buried there was gone..........this man, called Jesus...the son of God...a living God that is as much alive in people's hearts today as he was at that time a long, long time ago 

      .I also want to remind myself and all that are sitting and reading these humble words, that this same man, Jesus, that overthrew death a long time ago, will soon come back to receive us again unto himself... As he said "wherever the carcass is there shall the eagles be gathered together".

      In the days of Jesus, the Jews would ask "is this man Elijah or is that man Elijah' because they know that in Old Testament prophesy Elijah would come before Christ.

In Mark 9:11-13…..

11) And they asked him, saying, why say the scribes that Elias must first come?

12) And he answered and told them, Elias verily cometh first, and restoreth all things; and how it is written of the Son of Man, that he must suffer many things and be set at naught.

13) But I say unto you, that Elias is indeed come, and they have done unto him whatsoever is written of him...amen.

      Now Elias is the New Testament version of Elijah...but Elijah didn't come in the flesh but John the Baptist had the spirit of Elijah that was prophesied would come before Jesus came on the scene. As Jesus said Elias is come already.

      Now in Jerusalem, there are several gates to the city, but one gate in particular I want to bring out.  It is called the Eastern gate. When Christ returns the prophesy says that he will enter that gate and the scribes I think were believing that Elijah would come in also,

      In history the conquering armies that had held Jerusalem in the past heard these same stories but during the Turks reign in Jerusalem, they decided to prevent that from happening. They would wall up this gate. They bricked it up  and on top of that they put a muslim graveyard at the front of the gate because they knew no priest or holy man of God would cross this ground. This was all done to prevent the inevitable return of Jesus to the city 

      .But all they did was bring to pass another prophesy that states the gate would be sealed until the time of Christ's return. That's just like the world today. The enemy is doing everything in his power to prevent that event from happening, but his efforts are futile. This same Jesus that arose on that morning and the angel told Mary that "he is alive"..."why seek him among the dead.” Praise the lord........He is risen and his return is coming........to fulfill his promise of salvation...amen.

      I can just see that day now....The trumpets will sound...the sky will break open and we will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds with a host of angels. He will set foot on the Mount of Olives and as in the Old Testament days when Joshua and the people marched around that city of Jericho and the walls came tumbling down.  I can see this walled up, bricked up gate that was there to prevent him from entering the city....I can see those bricks begin to shake...........just like in the days of Paul and Silas when they were imprisoned in that jail. They would sing praises to the King and those walls would begin to shake and those walls came tumbling down.....and Paul and Silas walked out unharmed 

      .I can see my King and Savior and the people that have served him here on this earth faithfully, beginning to praise and worship him. Those same walls that are in front of this gate will start shaking furiously, and then brick by brick they will come tumbling down.............................And my Savior,...my Lord,... my King,......will enter and answer all the questions that I have in my heart that only he can have the answer to. Oh what a sweet day that will be...................Praise the Lord.......please come soon my Lord.

      And on this Easter day that is soon upon us.......I would wish that all his people will take a moment and think about those gates...and each person see in their mind...by faith....those gates come falling down. Because they will! And our Lord and Savior will walk into that city. To the amazement of the whole world.....saying truly...we have crucified an innocent man...amen.

       Have a blessed and happy Easter Holiday...amen...bacc (Tommy)