Ok, so, I am driving down the road to bring my daughter to dinner for her birthday and see this billboard sign and it catches my attention. Understand that most signs don’t because they are terrible, but this one is a white sign and on one side says LUST and the other side says LOVE in red letters with the words “I am second” in white on a black patch in the center with the website www.iamsecond.com in the corner. I struck me because I really didn’t know what it was about and yet it was drawing me. I did not know then, but I know now that it was my spirit was that was drawing me to this sign.

It is a day later and I am at my computer and I remember this sign and go to the website. It is also plain, but it has a person on the right and a statement “I am second,” that you can click which takes you to a video of them speaking. Well, I was not prepared to hear the amazing testimonies of how God has changed these peoples lives and then to have them declare that they are second or say at the end “I am second” to God. I sat there and listened to several of them. The one I liked the most is the one from Stephen Baldwin where his cleaning lady told his wife she was not there to just clean the house but because they would become Christians and have a ministry. This is an amazing website. You have to check it out.

And it got me to thinking about how I am second. God is in control of my life and Jesus is Lord of my life and I am happily second to them. I can remember a time before them when I was living for me and how lust and pornography got me into trouble with the law on multiple occasions and was leading me down a very bad path. But God got a hold of me and shook me up because he has a plan and a ministry for me down the road. He has had many people like that maid tell me that God has things in store and for a while like Stephen I ran. But I am not running away from God anymore. On July 12, 1992, in a little church in upstate New York I made Jesus lord of my life. And then several years later, while having Jesus as lord, but still trying to be the one in control, I gave everything over to him and told him that I made a mess of things and that if he could do anything with this life it was his. Since then, he has moved me to Texas and given me a great job. He continues to inspire me in writing and also is developing some interesting contacts. I know that God has great things in store and I am excited. But the coolest thing is that I don’t have to worry about one thing. I just get to enjoy the ride because God is in control and “I am second.”

WOW! This story is amazing.

Our Hero is Coming Home

After nearly 14 years of equine rescue, I thought that I had seen it all, sadly . . .

I WAS WRONG.

After nearly 14 years of equine rescue, I thought that I had seen it all, sadly . . . I WAS WRONG.

On October 18th, Troy and I were contacted by those in charge of recovering a small horse that was found by hunters wandering in the high wilderness of the Cascade Mountain range. Evident by his halter and dragging lead rope, the bay Arab gelding was clearly not wild. Instead, while he was being transported to Bend Equine Medical Center for emergency treatment, he was kind and gentle, quietly submitting to those who were trying to care for him. Based on what little information that could be gathered, it was estimated that he had been wandering for several weeks. Even for a small horse, he looked to be about 200 lbs. underweight and was INCREDIBLY dehydrated. Once at the hospital, it was confirmed . . . his wounds were severe.

A leg wound on the back of his left front cannon was so festered with rampant infection that its rotten stench filled the room. A ‘makeshift’ bandage of green vet wrap had grown into the leg and effectively become a tourniquet, further adding to the suffering of this abandoned horse. Once the layers of caked blood, puss and bio-matter were removed, the tendons of his leg were clearly visible.

Even more troubling was the fact that his left eye was completely destroyed and hanging out of its socket. There was also a very suspicious looking depressed wound near his left eye. His head, neck, shoulder and front leg gave further evidence of the severity of his injuries, as they were heavily crusted with his own blood. As bad as his eye injury was, his head injury was much worse.

X-rays revealed the UNTHINKABLE. This gentle, little horse with the kind spirit . . . had been shot in the head. His x-rays clearly showed where someone had shot him three inches behind his left eye. The trajectory of the bullet traveled through the top of his lower jaw, shattering it, and continued to penetrate his skull as it exploded into nearly three dozen-inoperable-fragments of jagged shrapnel. Compounding his plight even further, his blood tests showed that he had lost fully HALF of his blood volume.

It was hard to believe, looking at him for the first time, that he had survived for an undetermined amount of time with a horrifically infected leg wound, a broken jaw, a destroyed eye and lethal blood loss, all with an exploded bullet scattered throughout his head. If this weren’t bad enough, he was also left to wander in a high altitude forest while dragging a lead rope. Any one of these things should have destroyed him. Yet, here he was, standing before me, blinking inquisitively at my presence with his one remaining eye. I was overcome with the thought that . . . it was a complete miracle he was standing at all!

It appeared that someone felt his leg wound was just too much for them to deal with; or perhaps they believed that it was a fatal wound. Somehow, they felt that loading up their friend and driving him to a remote location to be destroyed . . . was their best option. A ‘best guess’ is that they shot him in the head and fell unconscious from the impact. Bleeding profusely from his wound, it was believed that during this time, he bled out half of his blood volume. Thinking he was dead, the perpetrators left the scene. Miraculously, he woke up. Somehow summoning the strength to stand, he lurched to his feet and staggered away.

Even though his wounds are grave, he is not. He is continuing to make meaningful progress in his efforts to heal. And in less than one week, this amazing horse will be coming to Crystal Peaks! Because of the severity of his injuries, his recovery will be long and intensive. But the staff, volunteers and kids who come to the ranch are not only up for the challenge of caring for a critically ill horse . . . they can’t wait until he comes home. Instead of ‘waiting’, they are going to him! Since the moment it was determined that this special horse was going to become a part of our family, more days than not, I have driven my truck to the equine hospital filled with young ‘well wishers’ who are determined to help this wounded soul KNOW that he is greatly loved.

In these past days of spending time with our new boy, I have become very aware of something remarkable about him. He is courageous, he is a survivor, he has fought HARD to live, to keep going. Most horses would have perished when faced with just one of his symptoms. Yet, he survived what many would believe to be unthinkable odds. The more I ponder our gelding, the more I realize just how symbolic he is of a vast majority of people.

At some point in nearly each of our lives, we go through “horrible, unthinkable” times. We feel as if we have been lead out into the wilderness, perhaps by those we loved and trusted, badly beaten and left for dead. We stumble away, wandering within the desolation of loneliness, unable to help ourselves, unable to stop the ‘hemorrhaging’, unable to find our way home. The horizon begins to fade into gray. Death looms.

It is then, within our darkest night, our deepest wilderness, our greatest despair, when our hope is bleeding out . . . if we call on His name . . . He comes. Jesus comes into the wreckage of our heart, our blackest place, our wasteland of hopelessness . . . and He leads us home.

Like a soldier returning from battle, or a little horse from the wilderness, we too can fall into the welcome arms of the One who loves us. We, like the soldier or horse, might not look the same on the outside. When we come home from our ‘battle in the wilderness’, we might be scarred or disfigured, we might carry the marks of our wounding. Yet, as one of the little ones here at the ranch has so honestly and eloquently stated about his wounded four legged friend, “It’s not the outside (of a horse) that makes him lovable . . . it’s the inside that I love. It’s not what the outside looks like that makes him a ‘hero’, it’s the inside, it’s the heart . . . that’s what makes a REAL hero.”

Learning from my own experiences, I now know that it’s true, we can never be too wounded for the Lord to heal. We can never be too lost for Him to find. We can never be too broken for Him to love back to life. We can never fall so deep into despair, that His immeasurable love for us-each of us-is not deeper still. There is no such place of sorrow, no such wilderness of pain . . . that He cannot find us, help us stand up and lead us home. Because this little horse is so symbolic of this beautiful truth, we hope that you will be please to know that we have decided to name him in honor of those who have chosen to reach for the hand of the Lord and walk through their wilderness. His new name shall be . . . ‘Hero.’

Written by Kim Meeder

Abortion is a hot topic and there are many people with many esoteric reasons to support their opinion. However, none of them hold a candle to the story of T. Suzanne Eller. Below is her story from her website that you can see by following this link.

Dear friend. . .

Posted October 27, 2008

You ask me why I dare touch such a hot topic in today?s political scene. After all, it?s a women?s right to choose. It?s private. It?s not right to push your opinions on others, you say. Thank you for your questions, for allowing me to be the one to listen.

I don?t often talk about abortion, but friend you asked the question so is it okay that I share my story?

My mom was 15 when she found out she was pregnant with her first. A young naval guy on her base told her he loved her. She believed him. Nine months later she gave birth to a sick child. Cystic fibrosis. She was far from home now. ?You made your own bed; lie in it,? her mother said.

Her husband wasn?t faithful. He was abusive. She was fragile. She got pregnant again, giving birth to another little girl just in time to say goodbye to her first. When her little one died, her husband beat her, accusing her of not taking care of Pamela. What he didn?t understand is that at time they didn?t have the medical knowledge to extend the life of a CF baby.

He was gone for longer periods of time, some times months due to service. Other times, days, due to other women. She was not quite 20 years old, a mother twice over, without money, a phone, and at the mercy of an angry young man.

She fled one day, finding a place with a girlfriend, taking in jobs cleaning homes. She was as poor as ever, but safe and rebuilding her life.

He found her. He wanted to make their marriage work. He wanted her to come home. He wanted sex.

She said no to all of those. He made her give him at least one of them. It was violent. He left, this time for forever.

She found out she was pregnant. It was the worst of times; it was the worst of times. There was not ?best? in this situation. Her remaining daughter was 3. She was 20. At nine months pregnant she walked out of the house, her water broken, a dime clutched in her hand as she looked for a pay phone to call for help.

She gave birth alone later that night in the hallway of a naval hospital. No pink balloons. No birth announcements. No loving family surrounding her. It was a difficult birth: a 9 lb. 13 oz. baby girl. Daughter #3 arrived.

I was that baby.

When I look at her circumstances she had every reason to terminate the pregnancy. But if she had ended that pregnancy, she would have ended me. And generations after me: Leslie, Ryan, Melissa.

That?s why I quietly oppose abortion. It?s why I am grateful that my mother allowed me to choose whether my life was of value, instead of her circumstances or my conception or the hard life we had after that.

Because I love life. I love being Suzie. I love being a mom. I love traveling around the world to share my faith. I love hiking. I love being in the arms of Richard. I love everything that life brings, even if that meant that I had to go through the hard parts growing up, and there were many, to be here today.

Maybe you disagree and I hear you, but this is my story and I can?t change the facts to embrace the issue.

Thanks for asking the question. I love having this conversation w/you.

I am beginning a weight loss trek and will be blogging about it. This will mark the first post about it.

I went to the cardiologist yesterday and was surprised and then shocked. First, about four weeks ago when I was at my primary car doctor, I was weighed in at 371lbs and I was a bit bummed. Since then, my wife and I were fasting for God to move in our finances and stuff. Yesterday, I found out that I was 352lbs and I was excited that I lost almost 20lbs. Then the doctor spoke to me about my weight and the high concern he has because of my symptoms and family history. In fact, he said that if I can not get my weight loss under control in a month, he will actually have me go for surgery which he told me he never recommends. Well, that got my attention. Now, some of you may remember almost two years ago when I did weight watchers and lost just over 50lbs so I know I can do it as long as I put my mind to it and pray about it.

So, please pray for me and keep watching my blog for more information about my weight. I do not know when my next weigh in will be, but as soon as it is I will be sure to post my new weight.

I love the new Battlestar Galactica and have been a fan since the new show came on the air. I have a theory about what is happening with Starbuck and I emailed this theory to friends, family and those people who have blogs/podcasts that I subscribe to. I am totally psyched that Slice Of SciFi (www.sliceofscifi.com) has taken my theory and posted it as an article (BSG – Theory on Starbuck). Be sure to click over and take a look at the article and don’t forget to also click to dig the article (Digg The Article).

Thanks SliceOfSciFi for posting the article!!

I wrote this short story back in 2000 and somehow it when I was looking through my old stuff today it just jumped out. I hope you enjoy it.

The Diagnoses
By Patrick R. Aquilone

The doctor entered the room. There was a silence as Joe and Nancy had been waiting, praying that the results would be good. They had been through so much. They had plans for the future for their family. They had hopes of growing old hopes of being there for all the good and bad. All that they had been or would be came down to this moment. It would either change everything or offer a sigh of relief.

“Joe, Nancy,” spoke the doctor. He smiled and then it faded to a frown. The doctor had been there through it all for them. Through the cyst, the gal bladder, the pregnancy with all there problems, and much more. He had helped them struggle through everything, but this time would be different. “I am afraid that I have bad news. The test came back.” The doctor hung is head down. He knew how they would receive the news. “It’s cancer.”

Joe’s mouth dropped to the floor. His wife had cancer. He could not believe what he was hearing. He almost began to cry, but stopped himself. His heart had dropped. His face had dropped and his shock shown on his face.

Nancy turned and looked at Joe. In an instant, she knew all that he was thinking, feeling. She had been with him for so long that she did not need words. It was all there in his face. It was written like a book for her to read. She knew he was feeling her pain. She knew there was nothing she could do.

“What now?” Asked Nancy after a long pause.

“Well, we could try chemo,” the doctor placed the file on the counter. “But honestly, you don’t have long. Personally, I would make the best of what time you have.”

Joe could not believe his ears. His worst nightmare was coming true. It had taken him what he thought was an eternity to find Nancy and now she was going away. Not by choice or in an ill manner, but going away nonetheless.

“How long?” Joe barely managed to get the words out.

“If her body puts up a fight, maybe six months no more.” The room fell silent as the doctor spoke those fatal and final words on the subject. There was nothing more he could do.

Nancy could feel the warmth of the love in the room. She began to feel at peace. It was not the love of her husband or the doctor although both did love her. She felt the love of God. She knew it was all right. She did not know if she would be healed or taken to heaven. All she knew is that she was not alone. That God was with her and her family.

She looked at Joe who had hung his head and the smile grew bigger. “It’s alright.”

Joe raised his head. He was not sure he heard what he heard. He was not sure if this was just a ploy by his wife to make him feel strong and secure through this time. He was not sure of just about anything anymore.

“It’s alright,” Nancy reiterated. “God is with us.”

Joe managed to smile and as he did he could feel the love in the room. He too began to have that peace that passes understanding. He began to understand why Nancy was smiling. He too was not sure what was going to happen, but he knew that God was there. And he knew that no matter what happened, God would be there.

They left the doctor’s office holding hands Nancy, Joe and God.

I thought I would post a short story that I wrote some time ago. It is a bit rough around the edges as far as grammar goes, but I think it is good elsewise. Let me know what you think.

Soldier in the Army
By Patrick R. Aquilone

A man named Bob died and went to heaven.

After a short while, Bob was instructed by Jesus to go and speak with the Archangel Michael. Bob was a little confused at first, but he knew that he should follow what Jesus told him to do. So, Bob set off down the main street of heaven looking for the Michael’s office. As he walked down the gold covered street he saw several buildings of all shapes and sizes and representing all different styles of office functions. There was “Peter’s Rock” foundational office. There was “Jonah’s Dive” for the learning of how God has worked in your earthly life. Office after office he pasted as he walked down the street.

As he approached the end of the street, he found Michael’s office. The sign outside read “Michael’s Military Coordination.” Bob was puzzled by the sign, but quickly climbed the steps and entered the building. Once inside, he found himself in a great hall with only two doors the one he came in and the other he presumed was Michael’s office. He slowly walked down the hall admiring all the artwork on the wall. There was a great many paintings. Many of them seemed familiar, but there was something he noticed that was different about them. In all of the pictures, there was what looked like angels upon angels. The angels appeared to be helping the individuals in the picture. One picture he took special attention to. It was a portrait of Billy Graham, a man he recognized. However, Billy was only in the center of the picture. Behind him stood a great multitude of angels. He stopped and stared for a moment at the picture. Row after row of angels.

He stood for what seemed like an hour and then remembered why he had come into the building. He walked up to the door at the end of the hall and was about to knock when the door suddenly opened. A voice from inside the room spoke, “Come on in, Bob.” Bob took a small step back and then slowly entered the office.

The office was rather plain. It had a small desk with a chair on either side. There was no painting in this office, because most of the walls were glass or something like that. He looked around and then his focus came upon a rather average looking man he presumed to be the archangel Michael. Michael stood and smiled. “Please have a seat,” Michael spoke as he motioned to the empty chair on the opposite side of the desk.

Bob walked over and took a seat. He was not sure exactly what would be proper etiquette when meeting an archangel, but he basically managed to smile and say hello. Bob was a little bit nervous, but he was not scared. He knew that he was in good hands. He just didn’t know what exactly this meeting was going to be about.

“Bob,” Michael began, “Why don’t we start with you sharing your testimony?”

Bob looked a little bit puzzled. “I am sorry, but I am not sure what you are asking for.”

Michael let out a little laugh. “I am sorry,” Michael apologized. “I forgot. You were saved just hours before passing into eternity, correct?”

“Yes,” Bob spoke relaxing a bit. “A long time neighbor of mine, John Smith, came to my hospital room and shared the Gospel with me. I had heard it all before, but somehow it was different this time.” Bob began to speak with his hands and sound excited. “This time I really understood what he was saying and it made so much sense that I gave my life over right there, and a good thing too. I died that night.”

“Ah yes, John Smith.” Michael’s smile broadened and he spoke with a genuine enthusiasm. “I just love Christians like him.”

Bob was a bit confused by what Michael was saying. “Excuse my ignorance, but I thought you would have loved all Christians?”

“Yes, I do,” Michael responded. “Just some Christians make our job a lot easier.”

“Job? Easier?”

“Allow me to explain.” Michael stood up and walked around to the front of the desk settling down and sitting on a corner. “I am in charge of God’s army of angels. Our job is to protect people from the God’s enemy, Satan. We assign at least a legion of angels to every person on the planet. Once a person takes the step in faith to become a Christian they immediate receive additional legions of angels. Up to twenty legions can be on any one Christian at any one time. Anyway, these angels receive their orders from God through the chain of command and do whatever it takes to complete their mission and protect the person they are assigned.”

Michael stopped as he could see that Bob was getting confused. Bob took advantage of a pause in the conversation. “I do not understand. If there are angels protecting people that are not Christians, why is the world so bad?”

“That is a good question,” responded Michael. “It all comes down to free will. God gave everyone the free will to choose to believe or not believe in Him. If a person does not believe in Him or does not believe correctly in Him, that person is not a Christian. If he is not a Christian, that person is not asking for God’s direct protection on their life; however, that does not mean that God abandons them. God still assigns angels to keep that person from certain things happening in their life.”

“Certain things?” Bob questioned.

“Certain things vary from person to person, but it is whatever God tells us. Also, there are a lot of Christians out there that pray for those who are not Christians. Those prayers provide protection for those people even if they are still choosing to not believe in God.”

“Wow, I never realized that prayer was that effective,” Bob spoke amazed.

“Most people don’t. As a matter of fact, your friend John has been sending up prayers for you for the last five years. There are a great many things that you have been protected from because of his prayers.”

“Really!?!?” Bob was amazed.

“Yes,” Michael responded. “Do you remember about a year ago when you had some trouble walking into your bank.”

“Yes, I do,” Bob sat up in his seat. “I went up to the door and could not open it. I tried and tried, but it would not budge. I remember trying every door. I could even see people inside, but I was not able to get in. So, I went to the ATM and went about my business. Later that day, I discovered the bank was held up. I was really lucky.” Bob’s face suddenly changed as if a light bulb went on inside. “No, I was not lucky. I was being protected.”

“Correct,” Michael responded. “You see John was praying that God protect you in your ignorance towards God. Well, if you had walked into that office at that moment, you would have walked in behind one of the soon to be bank robbers and surprised him with just your presence. Satan’s plan was that that robber was to turn around and pull his weapon and shoot you. Instead, you were prevented from entering the bank and no one was hurt in the robbery.”

“And all that happened because John was praying?” Questioned Bob.

“Yes, it did, but it still did not override your free will. You could have chosen to keep trying and eventually you would have entered the bank and been shot. You just decided to go to the ATM instead. So, the prayers allowed us to kind of help you change your mind about entering the bank.”

“And I am glad it did.” Bob spoke matter of factly. “So, why do you love Christians like John more if they give you extra work because of their prayers?”

“Another good question.” Michael returned to his seat as he spoke and sat down. “You see we do not mind work at all. Christians like John are great because of two things. First, their resistance to Satan and his attacks allows us to free up legions of angels to go on emergency squads.”

“Emergency squads?”

“Yes, God knows everything so the sound is a bit misleading, but basically they are floating legions that can be easily moved from one assignment to another as God’s work in different people changes. Anyway, the second reason for loving Christians like John comes from his love of the lost people on the earth. He not only prays, but also goes out into his area of the world and will thwart Satan’s plans left and right by calling on the name of Jesus in the most desperate of areas. I love working overtime to stop one of Satan’s plans. So, that is the main reasons why I love Christians like John.”

“I never knew that John did all that.” Bob spoke a bit shocked.

“Oh yes, John has really shown the love of God through his life to many people in your town.” Michael clasped his hands. “Which brings me to why you are here. You are here to receive your assignment in God’s Army.”

“I don’t understand,” Bob spoke. “I am no soldier.”

“Everyone who is in Christ is a soldier in His army. Just some are soldiers here and some are soldiers back on earth.”

“I apologize for my ignorance again, but why would you need me as a soldier? It would seem to me that the angels that have been doing this would be much better at this then someone like me.”

“You see, the angels are great workers for God, but they lack one very important thing.” Michael pointed toward Bob. “None of us no what it is like to chose to not serve God. You see we have been with God since the beginning. We have always seen His glory and felt His love. We have no frame of reference for understand what it is like to live your life on earth not having those benefits. That is why it is hard for most angels to understand why people chose to not follow and serve God. So, we need the benefit of someone who has lived down there to help lead us.”

“Wait a minute,” Bob almost began to sound a bit scared. “Did you say lead?”

“Yes.”

“I have never been a leader. I have always been the follower type of guy.”

“That is what you were when you were on earth. You are no longer that person. Right now you are filled with the glory of God’s. You can be anything that God wants you to be, and he wants you to be in charge of a legion of angels.”

Bob swallowed hard. “Well, if that is what God wants I will give it a try.”

“Great,” a big smile came across Michael’s face. “Now, Peter has assigned you to legion 777074.”

“Peter?”

“Sorry, I forgot to tell you one more thing.” Michael stood up. “I am in charge of all the angels that battle for God and His will. I am like a Master Sergeant to put it in common terms for you. Christians who have stepped into eternity and now are in God’s army are all officers.”

“Why?”

“That is the way God set things up. He loves those who have had the ability to choose to love or not to love Him and yet chose to love Him over the angels who had no choice. It is all right because all of us angels completely understand and have no trouble following God’s plan for us. Peter, who was an apostle of Jesus Christ, is in charge of all the Christians in God’s army. He is like a General.”

“So, I am like a?”

“Lieutenant.”

“Wow!” Bob was surprised at what he was hearing. “So, what legion do I have again?”

“Legion 777074 which happens to be one of the five legions assigned to your neighbor John Smith.” Michael smiled. Suddenly an alert began to sound. Michael checked his desk and looked up.

“Something wrong?”

“Yes and no. Your new assignment is about to share the Gospel with someone you know and we are sending all the emergency squads in for support. If there is one thing that Satan hates is a believer sharing his faith. This could prove to be a good experience for you.” Michael motioned as he began to head to the door. “Let’s go.”

They both left the office and were off to hopefully see another person birthed into being a Christian.

I am excited because I spoke with my good friend last night smokin-man (you can see him on my friends page) about a new project that I want to do and he is on board to do it. I don’t want to give anything away about it just yet, but I will say that it is a comedy music video that I think everyone will get a kick out of that I will post on YouTube when all is said and done. So, keep watching

INTRODUCTION

Inspiritional stories whether fictional or true can so touch us and help us realize just how much God loves us and the world. Today, I am presenting an inspirational story that my wife was sent this in an email (author unknown and modified by me) and I thought it was a great depiction of our God and his son Jesus. So, I am posting it here for all.

THE MYSTERY VIRUS

The day is over, you are driving home listening to your radio when the news comes on. You hear a little blurb about tribal a village in India where some villagers have died suddenly, strangely, of a virus that has never been seen before. It’s not influenza, but three or four people are dead, and it’s kind of interesting, and they’re sending some doctors over there to investigate it.

You don’t think much about it, but on Sunday, coming home from church, you hear another radio spot. Only this time, they are saying it is not three villagers, its 30,000 villagers somewhere is the back hills of India. The story hits the television news that night. CNN runs a short story on it; people are heading there from the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta because this disease strain has never been seen before.

By Monday morning when you get up, it’s the lead story. For it’s not just in India, but also in Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Iran. You’re hearing this story everywhere you go and they have coined it now as “the mystery virus”. The President has made some comment that he and everyone is praying and hoping that all will go well over there. But everyone is wondering and talking about it. The most dominant topic is how are we going to contain it?

That night the President of France makes an announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing has been seen. And that’s why that night you are watching CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest when they are interviewing a weeping French woman who describes a man lying in a hospital in Paris that has contracted the virus. It has come to Europe, and panic strikes.

As best as they can tell, once you get the virus, you have it for about a week before you know discover it. After that you have four days of unbelievable symptoms, and then you die.

Tuesday morning brings the news that Britain has closed its borders, but it’s too late. Cases have already been reported in Southampton and Liverpool. The President of the United States makes an announcement, “In light of the rapid spread of the Mystery Virus, all flights to and from Europe and Asia have been canceled. If you have loved ones that are overseas, our thoughts and prayers are with them. However, until a cure for this virus is found, they cannot return home.”

Within four days the United States is plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are selling surgical masks by the truckload. Talk heard at work, the grocery store, the schools and everywhere is else, is “What if it comes to this country.” Some televangelists are calling the virus, “The Scourge of God” that is supposedly cleansing the heathen world. And everyone is walking around on pins and needles.

Monday night, you are at a special church prayer meeting that is interrupted with someone running in from the parking lot and shouting, “Turn on a radio, turn on a radio.” While the church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to it, the announcement is made that two women are lying in a Long Island hospital dying from the mystery virus.

Within hours it seems, this thing sweeps across the country. People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote, but nothing is working. From New York to California through Oregon and Arizona from Florida and Massachusetts, reports are flooding in of people infected. It is as if nothing can stop or halts the virus’s relentless progress.

Suddenly there is hope on the evening news. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be made and all it will take is the blood of someone who has not been infected. The Emergency Broadcast system is enacted and everyone is asked to go to their local hospital and have a blood sample taken. That is when you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, emergency vehicles in conjunction with the National Guard and military are going up and down the streets escorting everyone quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospitals.

When you and your family get down to the hospital on late Monday night, there is a long line. They’ve got nurses and doctors coming out, pricking fingers, taking blood and putting labels on it. Your wife and your kids are with you as they take a sample of each of yours blood and say, “Wait here in the parking lot and if we don’t call your name in an hour, you can go home.” You stand around scared and anxious at the same time. You see your neighbors, and have a small chat about whether or not this is the end of the world.

Suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He’s yelling a name and waving a clipboard. You can’t hear him over the sounds of the crowd stirred from his abrupt arrival. He yells it again, and your son tugs on your jacket and says, “Daddy, that’s me.”

Before you know it, they grab your boy. “Wait a minute. Hold on!”

The man and the small group the accompanied him say, “It’s okay, your son’s blood is clean or at least we are pretty sure. We want to take him inside and run another test to be sure he doesn’t have the disease. But we think he is the one we have been looking for.”

Five tense minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses, crying and hugging one another – some are even laughing. It’s the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor who you notice is not smiling, laughing or hugging anyone walks up to you and says, “Thank you, sir. Your son’s blood is perfect. It’s clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine.”

Word begins to spread rapidly across the parking lot full of folks, people are screaming and praying and laughing and crying.

The gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and says, “May we see you for a moment? We didn’t realize that the donor would be a minor and we need…” He pauses as he is regaining his composure and fear strikes you like it has never struck you before. “We need you to sign a consent form.”

You take the clipboard and are just about to sign when you notice that this would give permission for them to take all of your son’s blood. “You can’t be serious!”

The old doctor looks down and adds, “We had no idea it would be a little child.”

“Yes, my son.”

“We were expecting an adult and we,” the doctor continued, “We just weren’t prepared. I am truly sorry, but we need all of you sons blood.”

“But-but … You don’t understand.”

The doctor raised his head to look you in the eye. “We are talking about the world here. Please sign. You son is our only hope!”

“But can’t you give him a transfusion?”

“If we had clean blood we would. Now, please sign the form so we can get started? “

In a small corner of a crowded parking lot with a great sea of noise, a silence falls upon your soul and for a long moment you just stand there. What choice do you have? If you don’t sign, then everyone in the world dies. On the other hand, how could you sign your only son’s life away. A numbness overtakes your heart as you finally and reluctantly sign the form.

The doctor asks, “Would you like to have a moment with him before we begin?”

You walk back to the room where your son sits on the stretcher. You walk in and sit down next to him.

“Daddy? Mommy? What’s going on?”

You take your son’s hand and choking back the tears as best as you can say, “Son, you know that your mommy and I love you, and we would never ever let anything, happen to you that didn’t just have to be. Do you understand that?”

The doctor comes into the room and says, “I’m sorry, we’ve got to get started. People all over the world are dying.”

You stay as long as you can bear to take. However, as you leave the room, you here the frail thin voice of you son cries out, “Dad? Mom? Dad? Why – why have you forsaken me?”

You rush back into the room, but it is too late. Your son has past away giving his blood to save the world.

The following week, they have a ceremony to honor your son. Some of the folks sleep through it because they don’t see it as important. Some folks don’t come because they would prefer to go to the lake, and some folks come wearing a pretentious smile and just pretend to care.

In the middle of the ceremony, your heart is pounding. Your son gave everything for the world and so many didn’t seem to care. You want to jump up and yell, “MY SON DIED FOR YOU! DON’T YOU CARE?”

SCRIPTURE

Isn’t that what GOD wants to say? “MY SON DIED FOR YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?”

How much love did it take for God to watch his son be beaten suffer and die for us. How much love does it take for him to continually be putting his hands out and calling for us to receive Jesus’s gift at the cross. God loves us to much there really is no earthly way to measure it.

CONCLUSION

If you have never taken a moment to call on the SON who gave his life for you, please do so now (you can go to http://www.fireknights.net/ICB/index.php?arena=jesusfreaks&page=jesus and read about how to become saved by Jesus the Son).

I want to thank the great guys over at My Life Ministries (http://mylifeministries.org/) for encouraging me and hosting this blog. If you haven’t done so yet, hop over to http://mylifeministries.org/ and take a look around. Join the forums and become part of the family.

Also, if you have a testimony, email it to me at testify {at} fireknights {dot} net. I would love to hear it and I may just post it here on the blog.

INTRODUCTION

Welcome to the FireKnights Round Table Report!! The first thing, I bet, you are asking yourself is what is a FireKnight and why is this blog the Round Table Report. Good questions, and I hope this initial post will answer them and more.

WHO AM I

First, a little bit about me, I was born into a family that believed as long as you attended church during one of the two major services (being Christmas and Easter) then you fulfilled your requirements for God and could live the rest of the year for yourself. Amazingly, or perhaps it was because I was a teenager rebelling against my parents, I did not conform to this style of thinking and believed that there had to be more to God then one thirty minute service a year. So, I began to look into what it meant to serve God. Unfortunately, at the time, I was in a church that taught that the only real servants of God were the priests and priests were not allowed to marry or have relations with women. Now, I did not know a lot about anything, but I knew enough that I would want those things and therefore turned away from any type of service towards God. If fact, I did what most red-blooded teenagers do in America and I went out to party and have a good time. As it would happen, I am allergic to alcohol so the partying was not so much fun.

It was many years later before I was really interested in God. In the meanwhile, I was not such a good person and was, in fact, on my way to becoming a not so good man. For starters, I had been addicted to porn since I was 11 when I first discovered my father’s stash of magazines. This had given me a twisted view of reality that was warping my ability to have normal relationships with woman. I had gotten it in my head that all woman everywhere no matter what position of marriage or stature had wanted to have intercourse and that all it took was some “Nudging.” Well, you can imagine how bad this idea was, but in the state I was in I did not see anything wrong with it. The bad news is that it didn’t stay just an idea. I began to act this concept in a very bad way. I would go out “seeking” someone to “nudge.” Now, I had not gotten to the point where I would have directly attacked someone, but it was just a step away and the thoughts were already there. The enemy was taking me through the ringer, and I fell for it hook, line and sinker. To add to my twisted view, the feelings that I had even when nothing came of my actions were like a drug. I got a high, a rush, a feeling of euphoria that was lasting shorter and shorter each time prompting me to get more and more “adventurous” with my “nudging.” However, with each step for more, I was moving more and more towards, well to put it bluntly, rape. Sure, somewhere I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help wanting, desiring it and becoming willing to do anything to get more of that feeling. Eventually some of my actions got the attention of the police, as they should. I had been arrested and got out of everything I could with plea bargains.

That was until the summer of 1992. At this point in time, there was a guy hitting a mall parking lot and raping women at night as they left for work. They thought it was me, because after all I had a record and it was only a matter of time before I resorted to that type of behavior and even the police knew that. They picked me up for questioning and possible arrest. It was easy to prove that I was not the man they wanted; however, I was the man who had done exhibitionist stuff and they decided to press charges for that. I went and got a lawyer and she was concerned because the judge, to whose court I had been assigned, was known for the harshest punishments for any kind of sexual offense. I was terrified that I would go to jail and become someone’s “buddy.” On July 12, 1992, I entered a church with my wife. Outside, I had to put up a front to my wife that everything was all right. Inside, I was falling apart. I did the right thing by telling my lawyer everything, but that only lead to her telling me how little chance there was of me staying out of prison. The lawyer would try and comfort me by explaining that it would probably only be for six months or a year, but that only scared me more. That day in July of 1992, the pastor spoke on the physical death of Jesus Christ. He spoke about what it meant to be flogged with 39 lashes from a series of leather whips with metal claws at the end. How the average man would never heal right from a flogging. He discussed how they created a crown out of thorns and drove it into his head. Then he described, in detail, what it meant to be nailed to a tree and hung for all to see. Those who were crucified eventually died of drowning, as their lungs would fill with liquid as they struggled to breathe. Furthermore, it took the average man three days to die on a cross, but that Jesus was so beaten (remember he had been a carpenter and walked everywhere) that he only lasted three hours on that piece of wood. Finally, he talked about the fact that Jesus would have done that all if only I was the only one who ever believed in him. That he loved me that much. I could hardly believe it, but it is true. Jesus Christ took my sins on his cross and paid my debt so that I could have eternal life with God. Three days later (according to the Jewish day which seems to baffle most today) Jesus rose in the flesh as recorded in the scriptures breaking the bonds of death and sin over us.

At that moment in time, I could actually see Jesus being nailed to the cross with my sin. I could feel his love and his presence. I found myself in tears as I thought of the Son of God hanging for me. The pastor asked if there was anyone who wanted to receive the gift of forgiveness of sins that Jesus achieved on the cross and through his resurrection. I raised my hand and was lead in a short prayer committing my life to Jesus. I experienced the greatest high that I had ever known to that point in my life. I could feel the very presence of Jesus and God within me and I knew they were doing something from the inside out that would profoundly change me.

Two days later, I arrived at the courthouse early. I was nervous. Everything I experienced on Sunday was still fresh, but I also knew that in some way I deserved what I was about to receive. I deserved to be punished and sent away. I didn’t know the ramifications of my actions, but knew what I did was wrong. As I waited in an empty courtroom, a little old lady came and sat next to me. She started talking about her case, which had something to do with a landlord tenant dispute. Then in mid-sentence she turned to me and said, “God loves you and he is with you today.” As I sat there gapping mouth, she returned to what she had been saying as if what she told me had not even happened. Some time later, I was called before the judge. My lawyer had worked out a plea bargain with the DA, but they were not sure the judge would accept it. In New York State, you have to plead guilty and then the DA recommends the sentence of the plea and the Judge usually accepts it, but the judge has the power to override the sentence and give one of his own. Since this judge was known to be harsh on sexual offenses, the DA, the assistant DA, my lawyer and the head of my lawyers firm were all present to vouch for the plea bargain, recommend the sentence and attempt to convince the judge adheres to their recommendations. The plea bargain had been that I would not go to jail, but have three years probation and mandatory counseling. The judge heard my guilty plea and then reviewed the bargain. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally announced that he was not accepting the bargain and would impose a sentence of his own. Everyone went to work as I just stood there. There was nothing I could do and even though everything seemed wrong, I still felt that presence inside me that God was with me. I trusted him even though everything looked bleak. After a lot of arguing, the judge announced that he was remaining with his initial decree and would be changing the sentence to one of his own liking. At this moment, I prepared for the worst as the Judge announced the sentence. He reduced the sentence to only one-year probation with counseling and no jail time. You could have heard a pin drop in that courtroom. Everyone’s mouth was wide open. Later my lawyer said that was the first time in that judge’s courtroom since he had been on the bench (some really long time, but I forgot the length) that he reduced a plea. He was known for extending and adding to pleas, but that was not what happened with mine. I informed my lawyer of Jesus and how he had made the judge change his mind. She did not readily believe that it was Jesus, but did acknowledge that some kind of higher power was looking out for me.

Following this, God miraculously removed my twisted mind and gave me a new one. He also changed my heart so that I could love not only him better but also my wife and my future family.

And God didn’t stop there. He continued to do many miraculous things with me and through me, but I will leave that for another post so that I can describe what a FireKnight is and how I got charged with starting this whole thing.

THE FIREKNIGHTS

For the longest time, I knew that God wanted to do something with me and the Internet. I was not sure what, but I knew that given my skill set and the desires within me to reach people with the love and power of Jesus Christ that it would happen someday. Originally, I had owned and created websites for two previous domains (www.creativediversions.net and www.ice-breakerz.org neither are up anymore) that most people have not even heard of, and the main reason was that these sites focused on what I wanted to get out of the Internet. By this I mean the sites were a collecting house for the creative ideas that I come up with over my years as a Christian. I, with all and great delusion, had assumed people would want to pay to have. Even though I was a Christian, I was still living a bunch of my life for me and not for God. Naturally, those endeavors went nowhere.

About a year ago, a man who called himself a “revivalist” came to our church and held, of all things, a revival. During the time that he was present, I discovered the Holy Spirit and his manifestations in my life when I let him in. Now, I had been a charismatic Christian for some time and was even baptized by the Holy Spirit, only I had not realized the key to unlocking the mysterious of the manifestations listed in the Bible (Healing, Miracles, Faith, Words of Wisdom, Words of Knowledge, Discerning of Spirits, Prophecy, Tongues and Interpretation of Tongues). That key was that I had to not be seeking myself or to have some strange power like the force, but to be seeking Jesus, God and the Spirit and be open to what they want to tell me. When I realized that, I began to have visions of things within my mind as I prayed as if I was watching a movie before my eyes. As I shared some of these visions, it was evident that I was hearing from God and that he was using me to begin to reach people. I cannot tell you how exciting and exhilarating that is.

During this time, I received a vision that God would bring back to me several times. It is the vision that has become the foundation of what FireKnights is all about. The following is what I saw.

A VISION

I was standing on the shores of a beautiful mountain lake. In the background, snow-capped mountains painted a gorgeous scene of blue and white surrounded me. As I stood on the shore, I noticed that there was something in the water. Upon further inspection, I found that there were pieces of coal and splintered wood floating. I don’t know if coal really does float, but it was floating in the vision. As I watched, I could see that there was a current in this lake that was bringing the coal and wood slowly around mixing things up as each piece passed by. At this moment in time, I was suddenly aware that I was not alone. Not to far from me, up the shoreline, was an old man who was working next to a small campfire. I walked over towards the man, and as I approached I knew this man was God. Furthermore, I could see that he was doing something with the coals. When I arrived at God’s camp area, I saw several pieces of coal on the fire. As I watched, periodically God grabbed a piece of coal out of the water and place it on the fire, and took a piece of flaming coal and returned it to the lake where it continued to be one fire. Whenever a new piece of flaming coal would re-enter the water, it almost immediately would come into contact with the pieces of wood causing them to be burned up and destroyed. I asked God what he was doing and he had the following explanation:

“The water represents the world and the wood the workings of the devil. Each piece of coal is a soul in the world. As some call on my name, I take them out of the water and place them on my holy fire to ignite my spirit within them for the calling I have for them. When they are ready, I send them back into the world to do my will and destroy the works of the enemy.”

As God spoke to me, I noticed that he was crying. So, I asked him why he was crying. He grabbed my left hand and we floated up high in the sky so that I could see the entire lake. From this vantage point, I could see that the lake was mostly black and dark indicating that there were not many who were on fire with God’s holy fire. So, I, being an educated and astute man, determined why God was crying and said, “I see you are upset because so many have not turned to you.” God looked at me, smiled and replied, “That does upset me, but that is not why I am crying.” He then raised his left hand and pointed to a point on the lake. As high as I was, I could see clear as day and watched as a piece of coal that had been on fire, went out. “That is what makes me cry,” added God, “when someone I have touched turns away from my spirit.”

Following this vision, I wrote it down in my journal, but I didn’t know what to do with it. My church was already become unreceptive to the visions that I was receiving from God because, as the Pastor told me, “It made people uncomfortable.” So, I kept this vision in my journal and would periodically be reminded of it and many times returned to the vision itself during prayer. So, I began to seek out what did God want me to do with this vision. It was at this time a preacher came to our church who was a renowned prophet and powerful teacher. He related several testimonies of the miracles he had seen and then asked the question, “Why does the church as a whole not see the moving of the Holy Spirit like they did in Acts?” This was a good question since Jesus himself said that we would do greater then he did and in most parts we don’t even see a simple healing taking place let alone the raising of the dead. He claimed the answer was “Because most people do not believe the words in the Bible.” When he spoke, I was reminded of the vision and knew that it was not a coincidences that the two were speaking about the same truth, and that truth is that most Christians are not on fire with God’s spirit and therefore do not see the miraculous moving of God’s hand.

Before I continue, allow me to explain a little about what I mean about God’s spirit. When I say that most Christians are not on fire with God’s spirit, I do not mean the Holy Spirit. What I mean is that most Christians do not hold out and stand on God’s word as absolute truth and let other concepts remain in their thinking to cloud out the ability to perform miracles. These Christians could be filled with the Holy Spirit and may from time to time get clear words from God, but do not hold to the very basic truth that God’s word is absolutely true. To illustrate this, let us look at a common example dealing with money. Let’s say, that you wake up on Sunday with just enough money to pay your tithe and nothing extra. You have very little food in the house and it is not enough to feed your family until the next payday. Logic, and all we have been taught in school, says to keep the money because God is a forgiving God and get the food your home needs. However, the Bible says that if we are faithful, including the tithe, then we will not go without. Which do you follow? (By the way, I will share a cool testimony on this later). That is what I mean when I say that most are not on fire with God’s spirit.

Anyway, I decided that I was going to do something about that. Over the next couple of months, I prayed and got the name FireKnights. Knight comes from the fact that we are servants of God and a knight is a servant of a king and Jesus is the King of Kings. Fire comes from the vision, but also is used in relation to passionately or boldly going after something. So, when we put this together, FireKnights are those who are passionately and boldly serving the King of Kings.

WHERE ARE WE GOING

Know that we have a grasp of what a FireKnight is, I bet, you are wondering what I am expecting we are going to do with it. Well, that is the simple part. Starting with this blog and eventually moving to a PodCast (or both), I want to share with everyone testimonies of the power of the living God moving in this world. These testimonies will be anything that demonstrates the power of God and the power of his absolutely true word. I am envisioning that as this takes off, people will send their testimonies to me and I will post them created a definitive place where any Christian can come, read, and be built up knowing that God does move in the world today like he did in Acts. I am also hoping to tie each testimony to the Scriptures to demonstrate how the living word was relied on to see the powerful moving of Holy Spirit. Perhaps this is a lofty goal, but I have a really big God who performs miracles every day. I hope that you have stuck through this long introduction (which will also be the topic of the first PodCast when I get there) and are on fire with God’s spirit with me about this. However, even if you are not, or maybe you think I am a little nuts, hang around and let’s just see what God does. He may surprise you

Until Next Time,

I want to thank the great guys over at My Life Ministries (http://mylifeministries.org/) for encouraging me and hosting this blog. If you haven’t done so yet, hop over to http://mylifeministries.org/ and take a look around. Join the forums and become part of the family.

Also, if you have a testimony, email it to me at testify {at} fireknights {dot} net. I would love to hear it and I may just post it here on the blog.