As a young man, I was drawn, pulled by a force that I just accepted as God, towards a specific way of thinking, a specific mode of behavior, and a specific direction in my life.  The first memories I have are unusual.  As a young boy of two to four years of age, I remember in going to bed, being taken at night on journeys by the special spirit beings (angels or witches), and being brought back into my home, where I would awaken in different rooms and places.  My parents would spank me and put me back in bed with threats of punishments.  But they didn’t bother me because I loved going with the people who came to me.  The journeys were wonderful, and I loved being with the beings that escorted me.  I remember traveling to heaven or other spiritual locations, watching the inhabitants there, and learning from them.  I used to sing in church by myself, or with my dad, and share bible verses to the church.  They called me the boy preacher.
I have always had expanded, detailed, long dreams, that were very vivd and life like.  As a young child I did dream about being with Jesus, and even about his second coming, running and jumping into his arms, and being with him, and other beings out of the bible.  
When I was four, I have always thought that one Sunday evening my mother took me to see the old silent movie, “King of Kings”, at a beautiful church, on a hill in Illinois.  The hillside was covered with beautiful flowers, and the church, white in color, was beautifully decorated, with stain glass windows.  I’ve asked my mom about it numerous times for several years, because it had a great effect on my life.  Finally, five years ago, my mother got tired of having been asked so often and explained to me that it never happened.  They would never have a movie in a Nazarene church in 1954, that there wasn’t any such Church on any hill in Illinois, and that they thought movies were of the Devil.  I saw this movie some years ago and, because I had already seen it, I knew it scene by scene.  So, how did this occur?  It was confounding.  I remembered every detail, everything about the movie, and yet I had never seen it?  Later on in my life the grandson of Samuel Golden, who produced this movie, was told to seek me out, as America’s top Dog Trainer, and came to see me several times.
I grew up inside several churches.  Wherever we lived, we went to church, both services on Sunday, Wednesday night, children’s activities on Saturday, every single event.  My parent’s friends were all church people, and all that I knew was related to and controlled by the church, and church dogma.    My parents used church for their social life; their bible studies were conducted by Church, and in special groups.  They never studied scriptures in depth, other than to read daily, and follow devotions written for the Nazarene Church by Pasters they knew, but only on a shallow level, as is the custom for “Christians”.  All that they knew about the Bible was what they were taught; selected scriptures, devotionals, etc., all church focused, church ordered, and church centered.  The Nazarene Church is a holiness Denomination that believes in the (somewhat) literal translation of the Bible, and living a life separated from others, who were sinners, and committed 100% to God through the Church.  They believed in a special process whereby the individual would become so Holy that God would sanctify them for Eternity.  The Nazarenes were a product of John Wesley and his followers.   I went to church, learned all their teachings, and graduated from High School as one of the elites chosen young people in the Church.
Yet, inside, I was being drawn by an inner desire to know God, the real God, and have a relationship with Him.  At five years of age, one night I dreamed about the “second coming” of Christ.  I saw the way people were responding, running in hysteria, scared to death, hiding, and yet I was drawn to him.  When Jesus came, I ran to him, jumping up into his loving arms, hugging and kissing him, and crying tears of joy to be with Jesus.  
I remember all the songs we sang, sitting in Sunday School classes, and Bible Study, and listening to my teachers, wondering why they didn’t know more and better, about what they were teaching.  I knew more about the Scriptures than they did, and often would help or correct them.  I grew up as a boy “preacher”, and when I graduated from high school, was surprised to receive the top child’s award in our National Church chain.  
As a child I was restricted from playing with the kids in our neighborhood, because they were sinners.  I never had a friend over to spend the night, or the weekend.  My father worked and didn’t have time to spend with me.  So, I grew up alone, by myself, and lonely.
As a young child in the fourth grade I was taken to classes at our church, taught by a missionary, where I learned how to memorize and compete with other kids, giving memorized speeches on probation and alcoholism.  I remember working hard to do this, going with my father to my speech tournament, and coming in second to a young blond-haired girl, who my dad couldn’t stop talking about.  He was enamored with her, and told everyone how wonderful she was, and how her speech was so much better than everyone else’s.   I made up my mind that day that this was never going to happen to me again; in the next competition, I won.  My dad, then, couldn’t stop talking about how sorry he felt for her, and how sad it was to see her lose.  I loved it.  I learned how to compete and win, to see others as the opportunities they presented for me to overcome, and beat them, which I used for the following years to become National and World Champion in several areas of endeavor, including Olympic Competition, where I excelled.
When I was in fourth grade, my dad introduced me to a set of Edgar Rice Boroughs’ Tarzan books, and I read them all.  I became immersed in the life of this man who lived with the animals.  I wanted to be Tarzan and spent my spare time climbing trees, swinging on ropes, and hunting for animals in the hills above our home.  I surprised everyone catching wild animals.  I also caught over 100 lizards and snakes in the hills, and my neighbor’s yards were full of them.  I loved animals.  I raised a Tarantula, numerous lizards of all kinds, and enjoyed all animals.  My mom had a friend who had a Gibbon Ape, and I spent precious time working with her.  During my Animal Control time I also was able to find and work with Chimpanzees, and some Apes, owed by residents in the City.  During my time in Dog Training, I went numerous times to the Wildlife Way Stations, and worked with wild animals that were turned vicious, and normalized them.  I worked with all kinds of large Cats, (Lions, Leopards, Cheetahs, Tigers, etc.).  During my dog training a man brought his grizzly bear to me, and I worked, changing his psychotic behaviors, so that he could once again return to, and work in the entertainment industry, to make TV shows, and Movies, like “The Bear”.
At the age of 11 I started working on my own, to make money, because my folks were dead poor and couldn’t afford to feed, cloth, or house us properly.  I started delivering hand bills for Reliance Dairy, and very quickly would take over the routes of other lazy, selfish kids who tried to cheat, lie, and steal.  I learned that working hard and being honest paid off.
High School was great for me, I was honored in Music, Speech, Drama, and sports my freshman year.  
During my freshman year I joined the Gymnastics team at School and figured out how to end up on the school Team. I figured out how to attend workouts at USC and Mt. Sac, a junior college, took the advice of their best Gymnasts, worked out accordingly, and achieved superior results. The day for team tryouts came, and four gymnasts from USC came and asked my coach for me.  They then spotted me, as I performed my routines, and I placed on the team, along with the Seniors.  I placed in the District, came in fifth in the state, and exceeded my teammates from then on.  After my freshman year in high school I was never beaten on the Horizontal Bar, my favorite event. The next year I went on to start my own classes at the YMCA and teach hundreds of students gymnastics until I turned 28 years of age, I placed first in National YMCA Championships my first year in College.  
At 17, one August Sunday evening, I experienced a major event in my life that has had a controlling effect on me as a person along the way.  At the age of 17, sick of the way the people who called themselves “Christians” acted at church, lying, being shallow, and spiritually disgusting, I went to bed at 9pm, and instead of going to sleep, I started speaking with God.  I was tired of the hypocrisy, the lies, and the falsity I faced constantly at church, the shallowness I saw in those who called themselves Christians, and I challenged God, “If you are really real, I want to know.  Show me the truth, because I just don’t see it at church.”  
I opened my Bible to Genesis and, starting in the first chapter, read through the entire Book…as I remember.  I fell asleep reading my Bible and was awakened in the middle of the night.  I opened my eyes and woke to a room that was filled with light.  In the middle of the room was a being, glistening in a white cloud, watching and waiting for me to gain consciousness.  His features were visible, and he shone like the sun.  His hair was golden white, he wore a white robe.  He was clean shaven and his face was very handsome.  Looking into my eyes he said, “Blessed art thou”, “Go and preach my Word.”  I don’t know how long it was there, only that I turned on my light and grabbed my Bible, and sat there, amazed and overwhelmed by what had occurred.  I went into my parents’ room and told them what had occurred, still amazed and beside myself with excitement.  To my further astonishment, they told me it was a dream and that it wasn’t real, that God didn’t do things like that in this time and age, and that I was mistaken.  No matter what I said, they had no interest, no faith, and no desire to even listen.  They just wanted me to go back to sleep and forget what had happened.  I didn’t.  
That next week, I went to see our church pastor, for round two.  They told me the same thing my parents told me.  My Pastor and the Churches Assistant Pastor both felt it was just a dream, and that I was deluded, and had mixed a fantasy into my reality, and maybe I needed psychological counseling.  The only person who believed me was my sister’s friend, Linda.  I was so excited, I wanted to set the world on fire with God’s Word; it was real, it was true, and so was God, who had sent an angel to speak those amazing words to me.  I continued reading my Bible, even went out and found people to testify to, and quickly realized that, at best, everyone thought I was deluded.
My first Mission
I went on a mission to Mexico with a group of my peers, selected by the church as the outstanding students in our denomination, in 1968.  We went by bus into Mesxico, and of course I was focused on the goals that had been pounded into me by my parents, to grow up and become a minister of God, which I did, only in a different way than I had ever expected.  When we got to Mexico, they explained our duties to us, studying the bible, cleaning the church, helping to cook and prepare the meals, and being good altar children.  Instead I went out, into the city with my bible, and began to share the word of God with the people there.  Instead of going back to the Church, I stayed in the City, and spoke with the people there.  After 4 days I went to Church with 23 people from the City, and we sat in the front rows or the Church.  They didn’t recognize me because I had traded my clothes with the Mexicans I stayed with, and I was dirty from sleeping in cardboard shelters.   After the service I went forward to speak with the leader of our missionary group, who was furious with me, and wanted to send me back home, saying I had betrayed my missionary work.  I explained to him that during the time I was gone I had led 20 Mexicans to first time conversions, and was holding bible study twice a day in the village we were at.  He didn’t want me to go out again, but to stay and do the work and bible study with the other missionaries.  I worked at the church the next day, and was bored, like all the other Missionaries, until at 4 pm the Church was invaded by 50 Mexicans, who came looking for me.  The Pastor came out to speak with them, and get them to leave, and a good friend of mine came forward and told him, “Senior Bob is a “real” Christian.  He follows the teaching of the bible and shares a real gospel.  He doesn’t hide from us in your building, he shares his clothes, his food, everything with us.  He is one of us, he is our savior from God.  You need to learn from him.”  The Pastor was furious, especially when I changed clothes right in the church in front of everyone and left with my bible.  
We were holding Bible study at noon in the village two days later and suddenly the man sitting next to me nugged me and pointed to the fence.  It was lined with the Pastor, and all my missionary friends.  They were standing there in a line, holding clothes, and when I looked up he was standing there with tears rolling down his cheeks.  “I have never felt so horrible Bob, here I am your leader and you are teaching me with you example.  Is it OK if we donate clothes to your friends, and join you for Bible Study?”  It wasn’t enough.  The Mexican’s made the pastor change clothes with the dirtiest Mexican, his size, that they could find.  He did it, and everybody clapped.  Then I handed him my bible and sat in the dirt under the rotten canopy where we held bible study.  Over five hundred Mexicans came out to hear him as he spoke, and then we went to lunch, being prepared for us by the Mexican families.  For the next week and a half, the missionaries that came with me did the real thing, and the affect was miraculous.  My faith was real, and it was the center of my life.  I believed in a living God, one who taught by inspiration to follow, and obey.  I did not realize at that time that the ancient founders of belief systems all over the world started the same way.
I joined the Army in March of 1970 and went through Basic training, which I loved, because I was in top physical shape, due to my gymnastics.  The Army taught me how to run and use my legs.  I went on to AIT training. At Fort Benning Georgia, in preparation for Airborne Academy, and then to train to become a Special Forces Soldier for the Army.  My goal was to become a Sniper and work behind enemy lines.  During this training I got a call to report to the Captain’s Office, where I received papers to report for Chaplains Assistant School at Fort Hamilton, New York, across from the Statue of Liberty.  This was a big heartbreak for me, and my Captain, because I was his number I ranked soldier in the school, and he couldn’t believe they were transferring me out.  
The Army was trying to get rid of this position, and close the School, so, throughout my AIT training in Fort Dix, New Jersey, they went out of their way to make sure that out of the 56 Soldiers enrolled for this school, as many as possible would drop out, quit, or go to Canada, etc., by pushing us beyond ourselves in every way.  What they did was cruel, inhuman, and wrong, and was done to break us, to make us quit, and stop us from graduating so we couldn’t go to Chaplain Assistant’s School.  I started off in a room with five other soldiers and ended up graduating in a room by myself.  The biggest problem with that was that every other day at 5 am we had inspection, and the DI would go over the entire room with a magnifying glass to find a speck of dirt.  If he found it I would have to clean the entire room with a toothbrush, and it was a “pain in the butt”.  Then they would put me on KP duty and make me wash all the dishes in the kitchen, clean the floors, scrub the walls, and go through inspection there, and then fall in for PT class.  They would wake us up to put on full gear, and packs stuffed with ammo, and run to a swamp, to wade through the swamp in the middle of the night, while they launched grenades at us.  One night a grenade hit my Helmut and blew it off.  I had a concussion and couldn’t hear for a week.  I have suffered with loss of hearing and tinnitus the rest of my life.  
When we got to New York, it was miserable.  Then we were introduced to a school to prepare us to do the work we were to do.  The school wasn’t hard.  It was just boring, and I was lonely and miserable.  It wasn’t hard to graduate, but I couldn’t wait to be assigned to my post.  During that time, living in an Army Barracks was very disappointing.  One night I went to the Chapel and sat down in a pew.  Since there was nothing else to read, I picked up a Bible, opened it to an unknown chapter, and started to read.  “My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me, and why art thou so far from my calling?”  It was the words of Psalm 22, written some 1300 years before Christ came and lived among us. It portrayed the story of Jesus at the time of his Crucifixion.   It described how he was stripped of his clothes, beaten, mocked, and ridiculed, while he died in intense pain.  Strangely enough, it was how I felt, what I identified strongly with in what I was reading.  How could God know how I felt, and what I was going through, and lead me to the exact, specific, unique scriptures that I needed to read?   The scripture went on to describe how this man was surrounded by strangers who beat me, stripped him, pierced his hands and feet, and nailed him to a tree.  They split his clothes and threw dice for them.   It made me realize that Jesus was a man, like me, with feelings like me, and treated like me, and it filled me with hope, and love, and faith in him, realizing that Jesus was just like me.  To this day and hour, I can hear the voice within me reading these words, the emotion I felt, how it broke my heart, and then the joy I came away with as I left that chapel.  I had no idea what God had waiting for me.  I only knew that Jesus was my brother, and I loved him.
The Fort Lewis Army Post was a large, city-like Army Base.  My barracks, lonely, unfurnished, with just a simple cot, cold, and quiet, became home for me.   I quickly became friends with the guys at my Chapel, and over the next few weeks and months developed a close friendship with them.  However, a strange and yesdynamic series of events occurred, which changed my life in many ways.  Because of my job in the Chapel, a singular building, situated on the Parade Field, on the North side of Fort Lewis, about a block from our Barracks, the usual group of “Christians” came and developed associations with me.
 One small group of enthusiastic, evangelical Pentecostal (Charismatic) Christians used the Chapel for their “hang out” and would come there to pray and have their Bible studies.  These guys were all drafted into the Army and came from different parts of America, and the world.  Some had returned to America from different parts of the world and were all stationed in and around the Chapel area on the Fort Lewis Base.  These twelve, who were brought together from around the world through no desire of their own, formed a group that studied the Scriptures together three times a week and worshipped together on Sundays with us.  
Therefore, while I liked these guys, I kind of felt they were cultish in their devotion to the scriptures, and a little too pushy.  Since I was primarily interested in dating the girls at P.L.U., I wasn’t concerned about the guys, until they approached me one day, while I was at work in the Chapel.  They wanted to ask me if I would come to their Bible study that night.  I told them that I would, but instead I went with my Chaplain, John Staples, to his house for dinner.  I was really amazed when, at 7 o’clock that evening, they showed up at the Chaplain’s house, and asked for me.  I went with them to their Bible Study, and we studied the book of Acts.  The next Bible Study date came, and I was in town, twenty miles away, eating pizza and beer, when they showed up and sought me out.  When I asked them how they found me, they told me simply that God told them where I was, and that it was easy to find me.  When I asked them why they were going out of their way to seek me out, they told me that God told them to, that God had a special “calling” for me, and that it was their job to help me.
These men really believed that I was their leader, and they were all there to help me.  These guys were so much more zealous than I was. Why would they need or want to help me?   But they did.  For some unknown and hidden reason, they were being guided and directed to come to me.  I finally resigned myself to become part of their group, learn with them, worship with them, and fully participate with them.  These men were aligned with the Full Gospel, Pentecostal movement, and taught the use of all the gifts of the Holy Spirit, as given by Christ to the early believers on the day of Pentecost.  From the first day, it was obvious that their faith and their diligence produced results.   There wasn’t a day that went by that our Bible Study didn’t grow.  We couldn’t walk down the street without someone coming to us to talk about our faith.  I purchased a new Bible which contained a commentary written by Fenis Dakes, and 46 years later, I still use it and carry it with me.  
At this time, because of our location, we had a ready line of soldiers coming to see my Chaplain with numerous problems.  He would read them the Army Regulations regarding their problems, and they left his office in worse spirit than when they went in.  I would simply ask them what their problem was and let them know about our Bible Study.  When they came, listened, and spoke with us, half of them became Christians, and we helped them in many ways.   
One night we were holding Bible Study in Tacoma, at a friend’s house.  Suddenly, we were interrupted by a man beating on our door!  I answered the door and a man started yelling at me, “Do you realize that the bright light over your house can be seen all over Tacoma?”  (Something I have now heard many times.)  I simply replied, “Jesus Christ is the Son of God come in the flesh,” which was a scripture used in the early church to exorcise spirits out of people.  The man flipped backwards in the air, landing on his head, and lay unconscious while we brought him in and laid him on the living room couch.  When he came to, he prayed with us, accepted Christ, and became part of our group.  He was amazed at the power we had over the spirits.  He told us he was the piano player for Antone Levoy, the Hight Priest of Satan, and could play the piano with incredible skill.  As he continued to come, we wrote a new gospel song every night.  Many are still being sung in Church today.
As we continued, more people came, and, growing into a larger group, people started bringing us people to pray over, and the prayers worked.  It became obvious that whatever we had, the spirit of it was becoming more powerful in us every day.
Over a period of time, I was reported by a Sergeant for using my job as a Chaplain’s Assistant to build my own church, which I was.  My Chaplain received papers on me, and I was reported to the Post Chaplain.  I was served papers, and put on confinement to my Barracks, my job, and the meal hall, awaiting a trial to be Court-Martialed.  My Chaplain went on vacation with his family for three weeks but came back early.  The day for the Court Martial Proceedings came, and I went into the Chapel.  It was filled with Chaplains and attorneys, set up like a Court, and I walked to the front row and sat down.  After a few minutes, my Chaplain arrived, and came to the front as well.  He then turned and asked to speak with me for a minute before the proceedings began.  I walked back to his office and sat in front of his desk.  He sat quietly, and then, to my amazement, he began to shake, and then cry.  “My wife has been having an affair with another man, my daughter is pregnant, and my son is on drugs.”  It was obvious that he was broken-hearted, and deeply disturbed.  “Here I sat, day by day while you have been doing my job, living the life I should be living, and serving the Jesus I want to know.  Tears rolled down both our cheeks as we knelt down in his office and he re-dedicated his life to Christ.  We walked back into the Chapel, and to my surprise, he explained the whole thing in the Chapel, and then stopped the proceedings, and requested that I be awarded status as the first Enlisted Chaplain.  
The next week, Chaplain Staples sat with me, and we put together plans for the first On-Post Revival.  John, as I now called him, joined our team as one of us, came to our Bible Studies, and walked the Post with us as we shared our Gospel.  Two months later, we had the Revival, and 4,500 Soldiers came forward, and made first-time decisions for Christ.  The Army sent reporters from the “Army Digest” to our Post, and they took pictures of me baptizing hosts of soldiers in Lake Louise, just outside our Post, and put it on the cover page of the January 1972 “Army Digest”.   We started being called the “Jesus People”, a movement that went around the world.   Three months later, the group was disbanded as all of us went back to our homes.  But the work continued and kept going.
After serving my 2 years in the Army and coming out of the dynamic situation where I had grown and learned so much, I went to Pasadena Nazarene College, to finish my education, and become a Minister.  I deeply enjoyed my studies, including Greek studies, and loved my dorm-room experiences, which were very different from the Army.   I joined the Male Chorale, and quickly established myself as their “Chaplain”.   That spring, we went on tour, which meant a lot of time traveling on the bus, and at different accommodations and churches every day.  It was a 21- day schedule, and the first week ended for us in El Paso, Texas.  We took an afternoon, and went into Juarez, Mexico, just across the U.S. border, to see the town.  About 20 minutes inside Juarez, we came to a street corner, where there was a large horse coral, which was being used to fight cocks; a man had climbed the fence, and was standing there holding his Bible, and was preaching to the Mexicans.  In return, someone picked up a stone, and hit him in the head with it.  The man fell to his knees, and I was up and over the fence instantly.  I used my body to cover the man, and facing the crowd I picked up his Bible, and began speaking.  “What is this, you are acting like Americans, not Mexicans.  Don’t you realize this man is trying to save your souls?”  I went on and shared the Holy Scriptures with the growing group of people.  Pretty soon someone brought me a man who was blind, with his cane, and I prayed for him, then a little girl who was crippled, and on, and on.  The crowd kept growing, and evidently the blind man and the little girl joined me, praising God for healing them, and on, and on.  Finally, my friends came into the coral and grabbed me, telling me we had to go, and that the bus was going to leave for America. We ran to the bus and got onboard.  
“Where did you learn to speak perfect Spanish,” one friend asked.  “I don’t speak Spanish,” I said.  “Have you ever healed anyone before,” they asked?  “Yes, I admitted, in the Army, at different times,” I said.  The whole group was on fire, filled with overwhelming excitement, seeing for the first time what they had been taught about the Bible come to life in front of them.  We went from church, to church, filled with the Holy Ghost, giving anointed services, praying for people, and sharing our vision.  The word was spread before us, and the crowds were phenomenal.  However, I went to the wrong college, and their administration didn’t agree or approve of my usage of charismatic, spirit-filled, Pentecostal- type evangelism.   They fired my teacher and stripped me of my position.  I’m sure that God was very pleased!
I got married to a woman who was the pastor’s secretary at one of California’s largest churches, whose father was the Head Elder in the church.  They were devout churchgoers, but for all the wrong reasons.  Their spirituality wasn’t there.
In THIS dimension of life, the Bible teaches that we exist on a plain that is filled with spiritual contrast, and are exposed to a complete variety of energies, both residue energies, and actual energies, from spiritual beings that have filled parts of this earth and universe with their presence from time past, and in our present dimension, both spiritual and physical.  These spiritual entities fill the “psycho-centric” (my own created description of the universe around us) space where we live, and infect us like bacteria.  When you meet someone, that person is a complicated mixture of energies and spiritual forces that have infected them, and as a consequence, developed behaviors based on the forces they have been attracted to, and become an actual part of their personality.  Unfortunately, for every good energy we experience, there is a corresponding negative energy that attacks and confronts us, because of the energy we possess.  These entities look to attack ready recipients.  
Jesus said the spirit you attract and attach to in your attempt to survive and succeed will become your leader, and then your God, and you will live to serve them.   Unfortunately for 99.99% of Christians, their spiritual life begins and ends at the Altar.  Like Jesus said, we have eyes but cannot see, ears but cannot hear, and walk around blind and deaf to the spiritual life going on around us, including that of the Holy Spirit.  Our spiritual education in the church is not lacking, it’s absent.  Christians of all sects using  different Bibles, translated for them, easy to read, put together by theologians for their religious organizations.   
I happened to be present at the Seminary where a group of chosen “Theologians” had gathered to put together the New American Standard Bible, and because I was taking classes on Bible History, Theology, Greek, and Hebrew, at the time I sat in on a dozen sessions, listening, and to the chagrin of several in the group, asking questions and added my ‘helps”, until they kicked me out.  What I witnessed was this group “interpreting” or dare I say, “mis-interpreting, “the word of God”.   These were my teachers, who would have down graded me if I had used their same tactics in class, creating their own interpretation of scripture for 1,000,000s of Christians world wide, with standards that were beneath them.  They used the excuse that they were more educated, and qualitatively more exalted than those they were working for.
I was seriously searching for a wife who would be a good pastor’s wife and believed that was hoping that marrying and incorporating her would enhance my abilities to become the evangelistic leader I desired to become.  Unfortunately, this man was very strong, with an analytical, skeptical presence, who controlled the church administratively for his own purposes.  
Two days after our marriage her father told me over dinner that “your life is over, and you now only live to provide for my daughter.”  The problem is he meant it, and he used every dark, evil, rotten process, procedure, and ability to follow through.  I was ready to accept a full scholarship to Dallas Theological Seminary, and he told me if I accepted, I would be going alone.  He stayed in contact with my wife closely and would contact me immediately if he disagreed with anything I did.  They went through my financial books, moved the furniture in my home, and controlled our lives.  He and his wife dominated and controlled their daughter, who had strong autistic behaviors, and lived for their approval, until they had destroyed everything I wanted.   I immediately went to work, 2 and three jobs at a time, 50 to 70 hours a week.  
I went through the LAPD Academy, did great, and set three records that have never been equaled or surpassed.  Out of 157 new cops, I came in third.  I did well as a young recruit, and even though I was very green, and had never been exposed to this lifestyle, proved myself, and excelled.  
However, my past life, and beliefs caught up with me.  I was too kind, too good hearted, and did things a different way that the others did.  I shot three people while I was on duty, and I also saved their lives.  One man I will never forget was a big, muscled, Samoan, about 6’2”, who was involved in a home disturbance.  When we got there his wife was bleeding from being hit in the face, and then the front door opened and he saw me and came right for me.  He was drunk, and wild, and he was running with his hand raised that carried a meat cleaver, ready to chop my head into halves.  I raised my 38 revolver and shot him point blank right in the forehead.  The bullet knocked him back on his back, and he lay there dazed.  Finally he looked up and said, “you tried to kill me”.  “You tried to kill me first,” I replied.  I grabbed a towel and compressed the back of his head which was bleeding bad.  The bullet had hit him square in the forehead, gone around the side, and out the back of his skull.  I drove him to the hospital, got him fixed up, took him down and booked him at the station, and let him know to call me for anything he needed.  We hugged, and I went back on patrol.  
I looked like a fresh, green, dumb recruit, so the guys liked to send me into tough situations, and then, when the group of thugs we came to stop responded by punching me, they would come to the rescue.  I ruined their fun many times by talking the gangs into stopping and walking away.   One time they sent me into a bar for a woman firing her revolver.  I walked in, put my gun on the bar, sat down, ordered a drink, and talked her into giving me the weapon, and giving up.  The guys didn’t like me, because I was too straight. A year later my partner and I made the largest drug bust in LAPD’S history, and it changed everything.  He went to the Police Bar, at the Academy, never came out, and was found a week later shot through the head nine times.  My Captain called me in and let me know I was next.  If he allowed me to go on patrol, I would not live through the shift.   Because of my excellent record they allowed me to quit, and leave with retirement.
I retired and went home, and when I went to sleep my wife hit me over the head with a heavy lamp and broke my ear drum.   Unfortunately, she was slightly autistic, prone to a bi-polar type of uncontrolled physical violence, where she would irrationally attack me, foaming at the mouth, and attacking without reason or restraint, or any concern for my welfare whatsoever.   In those days we didn’t know what Autism was, and we just did the best we could.
My father-in-law got me to apply for Animal Control. Out of 5000 applicants I came in first place, and spent the next two years as an Animal Control Officer.    Without realizing it, my father-in-law had hit on my past in a powerful way.  I coupled my efforts with the Department in a huge way, and for two years spent my time working with animals, mostly dogs, and loved it.  During this time I trained one dog after another, placing them and going on, reading one book on dog training and animal training after another, and developed a drive and desire to become a professional trainer myself.  After some time I entered and graduated from a school for trainers, and did just that.  Within 6 months I was the most successful in-home dog trainer in California, however, I had problems at home.  My wife was very unhappy, and constantly in contact with her parents, who were constantly leaving instructions for me.  Her dad was scared I would not be able to make the money he wanted, for me to take care of his daughter, so he monitored my money on a weekly basis, and even though I made more than twice what I did at other jobs, he wanted us to save everything.  It was so bad that when I would drink a coke my wife would keep tabs on how much each gulp cost us and harass me about it.  I tried to make my marriage work, and went to 4 different Psychologists, went to group therapy, and even the Church Psychologist, who was fired after speaking to my wife.  I loved my job, and hated my life at home.  I grew more successful, and have been very successful till five years ago.
Finally, I After 11 years I left home, and my wife divorced me.  I found another woman, who I fell in love with, and went on to create a loving home for 26 years, where I could raise my kids without the constant problems I had to deal with, with my first wife.  However, for the nest 18 years, my first wife, empowered by her father’s money, pursued me in court, and used everything in her power, including the church to harass me.  She did everything she could to keep me from seeing or being with my kids, to destroy my life, with my kids, and still does.  She is a bitter, hateful, angry, self-righteous woman who lives deluded, and thinks she is doing God’s will.   
For the next 10 years, I lived without the church in my life, or the Bible.  I was rather disheartened with Christianity, and those who called themselves by the name, but without love; just a superficial, legalistic stand, that left no room for God.
One evening I was returning home from picking up a dog for training, and as I passed a familiar site, one from which I can feel the spirits of the American Indians who lived there for thousands of years, something happened that changed my life.  I suddenly could feel a presence in my car that began to speak with me.  The presence began to ask me questions, and the first one stopped me short.  I had three children from my first marriage and leaving them had left a hole as big as Texas in my heart.  Now I was struggling to raise my second three children, provide for them, and raise them the right way.  I loved my kids more than anything in this world, and the presence hit me in the heart.  “How do you feel about your kids?”, it questioned me.   I sat there driving up the freeway, thinking several thoughts, and coming to the conclusion, “They break my heart”, I replied.  I thought that possibly this was the Devil, and he was here to harass me, saying something like, “You’re the worst dad in the world,” but, instead, the presence simply said to me, “That’s how I feel about you!”  In an instant I realized that this presence was none other than my father in Heaven…it was God’s presence…one that I had known, that I longed to know.  Then, He told me something else.  “You know, I placed you here on earth with your dad, because I knew that he would need YOU.”  I HATED MY DAD.  He had never been a good father to me, never showed me the personal concern I wanted, never went out of his way to love or support me, and had always challenged, threatened, and been rude to me.  I never thought that my dad might need me.  He and my mom had been so self-serving, so distant, so fake, and in a moment of time, God took me through years of time, showing me my dad in a way I had never seen or thought of.  I pulled my car over and cried.  I wanted to reach out and hug my dad and tell him how I felt.  “Your dad loves you very much; he just has never had a lot to pass around.”  Again, I was shuffled through a gazillion memories, and was shown what God meant, in a moment of time, sitting on the side of the freeway.  Such insight was mind-blowing.  I then did something that had worked one night several years ago.  I challenged God.  “If this is real, prove it to me”.  These words started a progression of events that God would use to change my life.
The next week, on Saturday, I had some clients come for training with their Doberman Pinscher.  After training, they sat down and asked me if we could talk.  I figured they just wanted to tell me about their dog.  As we sat down, they told me, “Last week on Thursday night (the night I spoke with God) at 6:30 (the time we were speaking), as we sat for dinner, we felt the presence of God.  He gave us a message for you and told us we had to tell you.  It is the first time we have ever felt a conviction like this in our lives.”  I relayed my experience, which confirmed theirs, and we both shed tears of joy together.  Then they gave me their message.  “God told us that you need to tithe 10% of what you make to him.  It’s his, and you need to be faithful, so he can bless you financially.”  Their message was a let-down, God wanted my money.  I almost felt it was retarded, but God did follow through!  He sent someone to me with a message the night and hour, I had asked him to.  This was proof that what I was experiencing was real, but the messages didn’t stop.  
I moved onto a property with a man I went into partnership with, but business was slow.   My oak stove needed a pipe to the roof, so, when we went to the summer fair at the fairgrounds, I stopped by the Country Stove booth, and asked how much it would cost to retrofit my stove with the piping needed to take it through the roof.  The gentleman I spoke with wasn’t real interested in helping me, until I turned around to leave.   I heard him call me to wait, and when I turned around, he was looking into space, motionless.  He then stopped, reached into his pocket, brought out a wad of money, and said, “Here, this is yours.”  “You don’t have to do that,” I said.  “I wouldn’t have,” he said, “but this money belongs to God, and He just told me to give it to you.”  “Did He say anything else, I asked?  “Yes, He told me to tell you, to tithe 1/10th of it back to Him,” he stated.  I chuckled, and said, “Yes, it’s a test.”  “Yes, it is,” he said, and walked away.  I went to his store that week and used part of the money he gave me to purchase the pipe I needed.  I tried to call him several times, but he was never available to take my calls, and, after a dozen attempts, I gave up.  Because business was slow that year, I went to work with my partner, who was in construction, and we re-furbished bank-purchased homes to re-sell.  That Fall, we were working in a three-story apartment building, re-doing everything from the plumbing, to the roof.  We re-painted the entire apartment building, inside and out, and re-roofed it as well.  On the last day, I went to work, after trying to call this man again, to pay my tithe, and was finished with trying.  I had tried several times over the past months and he never returned my calls.  I was finished with Church, and with this God stuff.  I went to work.
I told the guys, “Drinks are on me after work today,” I found a partial spot of piping on the side of the building, up near the roof, so I grabbed a ladder and a helper, climbed up, and started to paint the pipe.   I could feel the ladder as, somehow, it started to bend, then arch, and it threw me up, into the air, and forward.  I fell through the air, upside down, and arched into a back flip, using my years of Gymnastic work, and came down, 75 feet down, and over 100 feet forward, landing on my hands, and then bounced down the steps on my shoulders, and then back.  I woke up lying on the steps with all the workers standing, amazed, around me, looking down.  I started to get up.  “Don’t move Bob,” my partner said, and I replied, “I’m OK.”  As I started to get up, I noticed that I had broken my left shoulder in half and crushed the wrist on my right arm.  I held my right hand, which hung limp, with my left hand.  They were all in shock, so I walked over and got into my partner’s truck, and we drove to the hospital.  The doctors x-rayed me and told me they wouldn’t have anything to do with me.  “You will never use your right hand again and are going to sue whoever works on you”.  Then the doctor-in-charge turned and asked me, “Do you know a good hand surgeon who you can go to?”  I did; I knew the best hand surgeon around, who was one of my clients.  The doctor was called George, and we drove to his office.  He owned an orthopedic hospital, and I will never forget the drive.  The bones in my arm were twisted 90 degrees, and I was in excruciating pain.  They put me into traction and put my left arm in a sling.  I went home and came back weekly for three weeks.
 After three weeks, the doctor told me that the x-rays showed the slightest shade of Metacarpal bones between my arm and my wrist beginning to form.  The doctor put my right arm in a cast from the elbow down, and told me, “Bob, if you cut this cast off, I’m going to kill you myself.”  “Why would you say that,” I asked.  “Because I know you; you are crazy,” he said.  That was on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, and on Friday, two days later, I received a phone call.  
Answering the phone, I recognized the voice on the phone as the man who had given me the money from God.  I said, “Hello”, and he gasped in shock and said, “Oh, Bob, you were almost killed.”  Then he said, I am on my way, and hung up.  Twenty-five minutes later, without having any directions, he showed up.  He walked into our home and asked, “Are you ready for God’s message?”  By this time, I was used to receiving messages from God, because all year long, people had come to me with messages they were convinced God had given to them for me, and none of them knew anything about any of the others.  I was lying in bed, propped up, with both arms in slings, and my dad was standing by my side, the first time in years.  He walked up and slapped me as hard as he could, and I could feel my brain move inside my head.  I lay there shocked, and he said, “Get yourself straight before something worse happens to you.”  He turned to leave, and I asked him, “Where is your church?  He told me, and turned to leave, and then stopped, turned, and said, “I don’t care if you don’t like the music, the man who sits next to you smells like a cow, and you hate the sermon, just come to worship God.”  Those were the best words I have ever heard.
 I took my family and went to church on Sunday morning, arriving just in time for the morning worship service to begin.  They started off with praise and worship, which I wasn’t into and really didn’t enjoy, and from there the service went on in the same “praise Jesus” style.  Right in the middle, a man and his family came in, fresh from cleaning and feeding their cows, and smelled like cow shit so ripe it hurt your eyes.  Then the pastor got up and the man who gave me the money, they had the offering, and I paid God back his money.  Then the pastor started his sermon.  It was from the book, Habakkuk.  He started off his Sermon by saying, “There is a man in our Service here today who needs to commit his life to Christ…”  That was all I needed to hear.  I was ready to leave and wanted to stand up and walk out, but something wouldn’t let me.  As I sat there, I heard a voice saying, “Pick up the Bible in front of you,” and I did.  It then said, “Now, close your eyes, open the Bible, and put your finger anywhere it lands.”  I did.  It went on, “Now, open your eyes, Bob.”  I did, and to my amazement, my finger rested on the “H” of the book, Habakkuk.  I began to read, and as I did, I became convicted by the words that came from the book.  I stopped reading and checked.  The book was 2 pages.  I checked the Bible, and it was several hundred pages.  I had opened the book, and put my finger on the first letter of the book, which was only a single sheet, out of hundreds of pages, and the book illuminated what I felt was my state of mind, and the situation I felt represented my life at that time.  I was overwhelmed to the greatest degree.  I suddenly came back into consciousness of the church, and the pastor was closing the service.  I stood up and yelled, “NO”, climbed up on the pew where I was sitting, and, standing on top of the pew, walked from pew to pew until I reached the aisle and ran down to the front of the church.  The pastor was standing there, and, as I approached, questioned me.  It was like I was interrupting him, and he acted shocked and somewhat disgusted, that I had the audacity to stop him while he was speaking.  “What do you want?” he questioned.  I was surprised that he would treat me like this, someone who obviously was so deeply affected.  I was giving him exactly what he wanted.  But that didn’t matter, I wasn’t there for him, but being led by God’s spirit to respond as I was.  “I want to obey God.” I explained.  “Do you admit you are a sinner, and are you ready to get on your knees before God and ask forgiveness for your sins before these witnesses, and commit your life to the grace and mercy of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?”  
These were the very words I dreaded.  I was resentful of Jesus Christ, because I felt he had abandoned me.  Jesus had set it all up, eons ago, and I had been bought and paid for before I was born and felt like a pawn.  There was no logical reason for me to humble myself before him and present myself in humility as his pawn.  However, I knew God had come to me, that he loved me, and that this was HIS will for me.  God had gone out of his way to do this for me, to help me, and to bring me into connection WITH HIM.  “Yes,” I replied.  The pastor and these witnesses knew nothing about me, my past, my accomplishments, who I was, and it didn’t matter.  I was doing this in response to God, no matter what, as I am right now, and I consciously committed myself to OBEY God.  I bent my knees, and lowered myself, both arms in slings, to the floor.  As I did, I was filled with God’s POWER, and I began to cry, and laugh, and cry, and laugh.  At the same time, the lights in the Church went out and came back on, and the room began to shake.  The room was filled with a Pentecostal-like SPIRIT, and the whole church was moved.  The pastor prayed with me and blessed me.  It was over.  I was supposed to get up.  I couldn’t.  “Bring me a Bible,” I requested, and demanded.  I need a Bible.  They went into the church office and brought me a Bible.  I grabbed the Bible like a starving beggar and hugged it to my chest.  “Thank you,” I exclaimed.  I got up and was hugged by a hundred people, and walked out of the church, wiping the tears that just kept coming.  I went home, had lunch, and started reading my Bible.  
I read through the whole book in two months and started over.  I read it five times in the next year and started memorizing it.  However, more than that, I didn’t go home alone.  That voice that I had heard spoke to me constantly.  That voice that I had heard as a child, that came to my room, that was with me in the Army, and that I had searched for all my life, now filled my mind, and spoke with me throughout the day.  I never had to guess what God wanted me to do, he told me step by step.  As is written in Psalms 32, “The very steps of a righteous man (any person, male or female) are commanded by God.”  God, in response to our covenant with HIM, takes intimate, breath by breath, thought by thought, step by step, second by second care.  He, who has counted and named the hairs on our body, so deeply and in such incredible detail, cares for and controls our lives, leading us with his love and devotion, seeks the most intimately detailed relationship with us, to the point where it is no longer we who live, but God IN us, God THROUGH us, God WITH us, who lives.  As Jesus told the Apostles, “He who has seen me, has seen my FATHER.”  My love for, and devotion to God, as my source, my family, my primary connection, and my life, is my primary, all-consuming mind being, that controls, motivates, and fills my entire being, and life.  That’s just the truth.
During the next month, all my friends became Christians, including my partner.  They all came to church, and as they gave their lives over to God, and to the extent they were able to give the percentage of their lives that they decided to commit to God, they were blessed.  I had experienced such a phenomenal re-commitment of my life to God, my Father, through submitting myself to Christ, as my Lord and Savior, in letting go, in obedience to God, and accepting his covenant with me, I didn’t think that others, who were not ready or willing to do as I had done, might not experience the same quality or covenant that I had experienced or received.  Everyone experiences this in degrees, accordingly, as they are willing and able, prepared to do, and led by God’s Spirit and angels.
Christians are taught to believe in a Trinity, God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, but are in many respects AGNOSTICS, lacking FAITH, blinded by their self-absorbed, SPIRITUALLY immature, non-committed lives.  Their ears are deafened, in defense from the onslaught of the God the Holy Spirit.  Their hearts are hardened, to keep the voice of God from bothering them, so that they can live their lives as THEY desire, and not constantly have to keep the voice of God from harassing and convicting them.  It is NOT their faults, they are only HUMAN?  It’s the response THEY have chosen, to the “Spirit” of God constantly trying to reach out and into their hearts and lives.  It is much easier to be lazy, complacent, selfish, greedy, and self-serving, than it is to listen to the Spirit of God constantly interfering with your life.  Christ, when he was walking as a human being, had compassion and empathy for other people, and instead of condemning us, he loved us, and understood our faithless, ignorant, blind, deaf, wretched condition.  
I went home and spent every minute I could reading the scriptures.   The next Wednesday evening, I went to Bible Study, and, of course, it was about being filled with the Baptism of the Holy Spirit.  I knew what the pastor was doing, and what he wanted, but what HE didn’t know, was what God was going to do! Even though I could discern his intentions, I had the faith that, IF I would follow HIS lead, that GOD would be enabled to perform the work, in me, that he desired.  I went forward to receive the gift of the Baptism of the Holy Spirit, and he met me at the altar.  “Do you believe that God can fill you with the Baptism of his Holy Spirit?” he asked?  “God is capable of all things, and if he has it, I want it,” I replied.  “Then, if you believe that, you also believe that God can instantly heal your crushed wrist, and your shoulder.  Do you believe that?” he questioned me.  Obviously, this was a test that set up, which was completely impossible.  “I believe,” I started.  “Then, in the name of Jesus Christ, I declare your wrist is completely healed.  Do you receive this?” he asked me? “Yes, I do,” I said.  “Good”, he stated, “Let’s cut off that cast that’s stopping you from using your hand.“  He asked if anyone had a Dremel with them, and one of the men at the prayer meeting went and retrieved his tool.  I stood up and stuck out my arm, and he began to cut through my cast.  As he did, my arm began to burn like fire, and I could barely handle the pain.  I began to scream, “Cut it off, cut it off,” but what came out of my mouth were words in a different tongue, unrecognizable to anyone except those who were given interpretation by the Spirit of God.  The cast exploded and flew off my arm in a thousand pieces.  I was crying and laughing, filled with tremendous emotion, and everyone else in the room was on their knees, amazed and bewildered, watching this miracle in progress.  “Are you healed,” the pastor said?  “Yes,” I replied.  “Then go to the middle of this church pew, and pick it up over your head,” he commanded.  I went to the middle of the church pew, reached down, and picked it up over my head.  The twenty-foot pew weighed about 350 pounds and had to be balanced to keep from being lop-sided.  I picked it up, over my head, with no problem.  I passed the test.  It didn’t hurt, and my wrist felt great, completely healed.  I shook hands with everyone in the church and squeezed their hands with great power.  My shoulder and my wrist were completely healed in a second of time.  I have never felt pain, stiffness, or any bone or nerve problems in them since that moment.  
The next day was the day I was scheduled to go to my doctor and be checked.  Since the last time I was there he threatened me about cutting off my cast, when he heard that I had come with no cast on, he was furious!    He x-rayed my wrist three times, and each time, it showed complete healing.  He took me next door to another doctor, and had him x-ray my wrist, not believing what his machine had shown.  It produced the same graphic results and showed that my wrist was completely healed.  We went back to his office, and Bud couldn’t believe what he saw.  He tested my wrist several times and had to convince himself that this was real.  Finally, he turned to me and said, “Bob, would you pray with me?  I want to receive Jesus Christ as MY Lord and Savior.”  Because of my past life, I accepted this miracle like it was normal, and just moved on.
The next week I had a friend named Steve, who had been bitten by a Pit Bull dog while at work.  He leaned over to pet the dog, and it bit his nose off.  When he called and told me, I went right over.  He was set up to go back to the doctor in three days, and they were going to staple the nose back on.  We prayed, and I claimed his nose in the name of Jesus.  When he went back in three days, his nose was completely healed.  Of course, Steve joined us at church.  Meanwhile, the word had gone out, and I was called on in church to give my testimony.  No one had ever heard of a miracle like the one I went through.  
That next month, work was slow, and I had a client who owned a car dealership near Los Angeles and needed to have the inside painted.  My partner and I went to the dealership and got the job.  We went to work, Bible in hand, and did the job.  While we were there, we heard about a man named Jim.  Jim had the voice box removed from his throat some months before and spoke through an implanted box in his throat.  Jim hated Christians, and we were told to keep it quiet around Jim.  Of course, both my partner, and myself became convicted to share Jesus with Jim.  We wanted to share with Jim that God could heal his throat, but my partner lacked faith.  We got into his truck at 4am, and he told me that he had a problem.  I guessed it right away.  He told me there was no way he would proceed.  If I could guess the one scripture, out of all the Bible, that he had decided to use as a test, and then quote it to him, he was willing to proceed.  I guessed the verse, one in all the Bible, and then quoted it to him like it was commonplace and normal.  When we drove up to the business it was 5:30am, and the only one in the place, opening the door, was Jim.  We got out, and as we approached him, Jim looked over and said, “If you say one word to me, I’ll get you fired, (he had done it before).  “I just have one verse of Scripture to say to you, Jim, and if you let me say it, I will never say another word to you about Jesus.”  “It’s a deal,” said Jim.  He stood there and looked at me.  I looked into his eyes and stated, I John 1:19, “And when he comes we will know him, for we will see him as he is.”  Jim grabbed the beam he was standing next to, and screeched, “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die,” out of his voice box.  I walked up and asked him, “Would you like to receive Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?”  “Yes,” Jim replied.   Jim then turned to us and said, “I have to go,” and disappeared.  At 4pm that day, we were interrupted, and asked to go to the Service Office.  Jim had been gone all day, and nobody knew where he was.  Now, as we walked into the department, he was standing behind the Service desk sharing his testimony.  However, he was speaking, not out of a box, but out of his regular voice.  We ran and embraced each other, and Jim introduced me to the crowd as the man who had the guts to lead him to Jesus Christ.  Jim got fired later that year for sharing Christ with too many customers and went on to become a Staff Minister at the Church of the Open Door in Los Angeles.
For the next 9 months I enjoyed a dynamic ministry at church, became the Sunday School Superintendent, built up a large Bible Study, and worked together with the pastor.  Then one Sunday, I went to church to find that I had been replaced by the children of the pastor.  The pastor’s daughter had been appointed Sunday School Superintendent, and his son, leader of the Bible Study.  If the pastor had called or spoken to me, and explained what he was doing, it would have been OK.  However, when I went to him, he denied my ever even being involved with these activities at all and lied to me.  I moved on, and the church conveniently returned back to being just another normal, self-serving, complacent group of self-serving hypocrites, “Christian” Church.
I have had a close friend, one of many, who started off as a dog-training client, for whom I have sold and trained several dogs, and who has known me for many years.  I developed a new kennel facility on a large property that we purchased, cleared, and developed, with the help of a new partner, who was, also, at first a client, and came to me after I split up with my old partner.  As time went on, and he could see that we were churchless, and just living on the land with our animals, he began to question me, asking me to attend a meeting of what was called ”PROMISE KEEPERS”, a gathering of thousands of Christian men, from churches and denominations all over.  Usually, fifty- to seventy-five thousand men would come together, and spend a weekend in a large stadium, listening to inspiring messages from the most popular and “spirit-led” pastors in that area.  I finally gave in and agreed to go with him to the next meeting and he agreed.  It was the one agreement we kept.  
I had just re-named my dog business and was calling it “Master’s Dog Training”.  My logo was two hands, cupped together, holding a German Shepherd, and my slogan was, “ just put him in the Master’s hands”.  As we drove to this event, God began, again, speaking to me, and opening my heart to His thoughts and will about me and my life.  When we got to the Colosseum, we were the first ones there.  We walked in and tried to decide where to sit.  I wanted to sit front row center, and he wanted to sit in the back.  For an hour and a half about where to sit, while the stadium filled up.  Finally, we decided to sit in the middle, in the center of the stadium, but by then, it was full.  We went to the center, and there were two seats left, together, where we might sit.  I asked the gentlemen sitting there if we could sit there, and they told us, “No, we are holding these seats for two friends who are coming”.  We turned to leave, and the Spirit told me to stay there.  Suddenly, a man sitting next to these seats said, “Yes, you can sit here.”
 We moved down the aisle and sat in the seats.  I touched the man’s arm, and asked him, “Where are you from?”  He was busy speaking with his friends and didn’t answer me.  I finally lightly tugged on his arm and repeated my question.  He turned his head and said, “From the high desert,” where I was from.  I had been feeling convicted ever since we entered the stadium, and the emotion was becoming stronger with each minute.  By the time we found these seats, I was powerfully convicted, and could feel the power of the Holy Spirit so strongly that I could hardly walk.  All of a sudden, I felt a crushing emotional sensation and could hardly hold back my tears.  I grabbed the arm of this man, and repeated my question, “Where are you from?”  He finally turned his head, looked at my face, and gasped.  “I’m sorry,” he said, and told me his name and the church he was from.  It was too much.  The church he mentioned was the church down the street, where my neighbor went to worship, and had asked me to go with him many times.  “Who are you?” he asked.  I told him, “My name is Bob Taylor.”  His eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped, and he exclaimed, “We came here to pray for you, Bob.”  With seventy-five thousand men from all over Southwestern United States, we just happened to find my neighbors, from the church down the street.  I explained to him that my neighbor couldn’t make it, but I would be glad to take his place.  The man was amazed and realized that this happenstance occurred by direct intervention of the “hand of God.”  This was a Holy thing, not of men, but only of God.  Now chills started running up and down my spine, and I began to shake.  
I had been wrestling with God, like Jacob, when he wrestled with the angel, for some time, which is why I accepted my friend’s invitation to come to this event.  I felt that God was asking me to totally submit, and commit myself 100% to His will, to give myself 100% to him, my life, everything I had and was.  Regardless of any and everything going on right now in my life, I realized that I needed to empty myself of my wishes, desires, goals, and just be there, in my heart and mind, completely and totally with and for HIM, my God, my Father, my Source of being, my Lord and Savior, and my Heart’s desire.  My desire and goal, in my heart of hearts was to completely, totally, and purely, essentially, belong and be connected and one in every way, with God.  As I sat there, fighting inside of myself, a voice came and spoke to me, “I don’t want you to make this decision, Bob, unless you are willing to testify to at least 1,000 people in the next year.”  It hit me in the face, took my breath away, what a massive commitment, that was…three people a day, over 21 people a week, 85 people a month.  Could I do it?  Could I keep committed and consecrated and make it happen?
At the beginning of the first service, as we sat there, instead of worshiping and singing, the speaker of the day, Pastor Raul Reis stood up, came to the podium, hushed everyone, and began to speak.  “I’m sorry for the interruption, but I feel very strongly that we need to start this day with a message from God.”  He took his sermon from out of his pocket, tore it up, and threw it on the ground.  “I am not being allowed to speak today, but only to say a few words that I believe God has given to me.  I don’t even understand these words.  They are not mine, but come from God, and are intended to reach someone here in this meeting who has been struggling with a special decision in their life, about their commitment to God.  My heart started to beat like a drum.  My blood pulsed and I could feel it pulsing through me like a raging river.  I could barely sit still.  The speaker then said, “Here it is, I don’t know where you are, I don’t know why you are, I don’t know who you are, JUST PUT IT IN THE MASTER’S HANDS.”  If that wasn’t a clear message to me from God, there never was one.  How could God make it more obvious that this direct message was for me.  I screamed as loud as I could, jumped over the seat in front of me, ran down the middle aisle, and slid into the altar, and that’s all I remember.  I was caught up in a state of euphoric being, and don’t remember anything for some minutes.  When I did regain consciousness, I looked around, and my friend and all the men from the church that had come to Promise Keepers were on their knees behind me.  However, the altar in the front of the stadium was packed with people praying.  I, again, was filled with “the spirit” and started praising God, and we all started singing his praises.  The band picked it up, and as I sat smiling, we sang one praise song after another, and then got up and went around hugging each other.  It was amazing, and we were all filled and full.
The next night, again, at the beginning of the service, Pastor Raul got up, came to the podium, and spoke: “I don’t know who you are that screamed, ran down the aisle, and slid into the altar with your hands up in surrender to God, but, because of your obedience to God, over 7,500 men came forward, and made full-time decisions to accept Jesus Christ.  It was the biggest Altar Call we have ever had.”  It made the headlines in their monthly newspaper. However, all the credit went to Pastor Raul for obeying God, which I was more than happy to see.  If Pastor Raul hadn’t obeyed God, it would have never happened for all of us.

I went back and started going to the Church on Phelan Road, and enjoyed the loving fellowship there.  A few months later we were told there was a man coming from China to lead us in a Revival.  God had put us on his heart, and given him a message for us, and we were to prepare ourselves by fasting and praying, and reading a specific set of scriptures for the revival.  I did.  
The night for the revival came, and we started the first session.  The Missionary stood up and asked everyone who had fasted the last month for the Revival to stand up.  A number of us did.  He then asked for everyone who had read a specific passage of scripture for the services to remain standing.  Six of us remained standing.  “Bob,” he asked, “what passage of scripture am I going to be speaking on?”  I told him “Ezekial Chapte 2.”, I said, and he told me, “come forwards”.  I went to the center Aisle and started to walk forwards.  As I did everything started to go dark and hazy.  “You aren’t going to make it,” he said, “in the name of Jesus, GO!”  He stated.  I don’t remember anything after that.  They said I flew through the air, knocked down four ushers, and hit the back wall of the church as hard they thought I had broken my neck.  I went comatose and lay flat on the ground.  They paramedics came and couldn’t wake me up.  The carried me down and lay me before the pulpit of the church for 2 and ½ hours. 
I woke up walking up a column of stairs in a tower like oval building, filled with fog.  It took a while for my head to clear, before I realized that next to was walking an Angel.  We neared the top, and came to a double set of doors, that opened up into a garden.  We started walking through the Garden, and could hear lightning and thunder in the distance.  There was a river in the Garden, and some beautiful trees with magnificent leaves.  The path we were on led up to a hill.  From the hill I could see the sky ahead, full of thunder and lightning.  The closer we got, the bigger and louder this became.  The cloud was no huge, and the thunder and lightning were so loud and so bright that if I hadn’t been by an Angel, I wouldn’t have continued.  
We came to the top of the next hill, and as we did it opened up into a huge amphitheater, filled with millions of people.  Down, in the center of the Theatre was a stage, and in the middle of the stage was a solitary figure, Jesus, from whom came shekinah glory like a great beam of light that spread out into a huge rainbow.  Jesus would speak, and the audience would repeat his words in one super thunderous voice.  The Angel turned to me and said, “You will only see what you have been prepared to see and hear what you have been prepared to hear.  I wanted to tell him “thank you”, but when I turned to him, he was gone.  I walked down the ile, and after a while came to stand in from of Christ.  To my amazement, he stopped walked over and spoke to me, “Bob, you have been brought here to see my Glory.  Now, go into the darkness, and bring them to the light.”  Those words were burned into my soul.  They brought me a complete newness of life.  From the time I heard them, nothing has ever been the same.
Instantly I was back in Church, laying in front of the Altar on the floor, but I couldn’t move, like I was paralyzed.  Every time I really tried to move I’d start laughing.  Pretty soon I had several people laughing, and then the whole Church.  After some time I sat up and was slowly able to walk.
Evidently, when I passed out I flew backwards.  I had four ushers walking behind me and when did I flew into them, knocking them all to the ground, and hitting the wall behind them with such force that at first they thought I had broken my neck.  I had never heard of anything like this before, and have never seen it since, so I can only tell you what happened to me.
The next night I went back for the second service of the revival and sat up front.  We went through the worship service first, and the speaker came forwards.  All through the worship service I began to chuckle, and each time it interrupted the Church, because several others began laughing out loud, and we had to wait for them to stop before we could go on.  I was very interested in hearing our speaker, because I missed the first Service, and wanted to hear this night’s Service.  As he came forwards the first thing he did was to walk up to me and touch me on the forehead.  It was the last thing I remember, and I went out.  I didn’t want to, because I wanted to hear him teach about Ezekiel.  After all, I studied for it all month.  
This time when I woke up a man stopped and smiled at me.  Then he went on, and I followed in front of the growing crowd.  Then, he would stop, smile, walk over, and heal someone.  The people came to him with all manner of infirmities, and in a special moment he healed them, one on one, as if he were being guided.  He continued on, sharing the Scriptures, and helping the crowd to understand them, then stopping, and waiting as a movement would come into the crowd, not physical movement, but spiritual.  I began to see that movement, to feel it coming, and watch it settle on someone in the crowd, and began to realize that as that person opened themselves to the spiritual enlightenment that came from being close to Christ, Jesus would go to that person, and heal them.  He was waiting for them to go to the place, in their mind and heart, where he could work with them.  As I did this Jesus stopped again and smiled on me.  As he did a little girl stepped forward from the crowd with her crutches.  She had polio, and was crippled.  He stepped aside, and motioned to her.  “Go ahead, Bob,” he said to me.  I stepped forwards, very moved, because this little girl looked like my little girl, whom I deeply loved.  I reached out to her, to heal her as  Jesus did with the others, and as I did he said to me, “Remember, it’s MY hands that heal.”  We went on, and then stopped for dinner, and ate fish together.  Finally, it was my time to go.  I went to Jesus and hugged  him, crying tears of sorrow, hugging him close.  “What’s wrong,” he said?  “I don’t want to leave you,” I exclaimed.  “That’s OK,” he said, “I’m coming with you,” smiling and looking me right in the eyes.  
Instantly I woke up.  The Missionary seemed to know where I’d been.  “Would you like to explain your journey to the Church.  I spent a few minutes and spoke with the Church about Jesus.  The interesting thing about Jesus was, he had a face that I could see, in everyone I spoke to, he looked like us all.
I went through a time of with my business, and then our partnership broke up, and I moved on to other properties.  During this time we experienced problems, and I developed a strong friendship with a man who was LDS.  We went through a real problem, and this man stepped forwards with personal involvement and help, at a crucial time for my family.  During this time we found, cleared, and built a new kennel facility, which we then, because of our new partners, lost.  It was very hard and frustrating, and for a short time we moved in with my wife’s parents, which would motivate anyone to look for change.   At the same time, I was motivated by God, asked for, and I started reading the Book of Mormon.  At first I hid the book in my car, but then I developed problems with my second wife, we separated, and I ended up in a home across town, down the block from a kennel, where I which I used to house the dogs I trained.  During this time, I was visited by Mormon Missionaries, and started going through a study of the Scriptures with them.  They would come, share from the Book of Mormon with me, and I would in return read to them from the Bible.  During this time, I became sick with the flu, and had to take a couple of weeks off.  While I was sick I went to the Mormon Book Store and purchased the Biography of Joseph Smith, and a new documentary on his life from the Book Store, read the Biography, watched the video, and became convicted.  
Joseph Smith had several experiences where God the Father, Christ, and specific Angles appeared to him. He had a home-spun, American styled faith, that incorporated some Wiccan aspects along with an Armenian style of Christianity.  His grandfather had presided over the Salem Witch Trials, and he was born in the woods of Tennessee.  At 15 he single handedly sat in a tented cubicle, and supposedly transposed writings from tablets handed to him by the Angel Moroni, the son of Mormon, one of the last of the Nephite peoples mentioned in the Book of Mormon.  In spite of whatever I have been told, or think, the Book of Mormon is the ONLY book of its kind written since the Apostles of Christ, some 1899 years before, that in any way compares, and is considered a volume of Holy Scripture.  Joseph Smith was a SEER and had some incredible gifts.  He was sued in Court over 100 times by people who believed he knew where hidden treasure was found on their property, and just refused to tell them.  He had the ability to find hidden treasures and materials underground.  Joseph Smith could discern spiritual forces, and during his life was a spiritual healer, and was contacted several times by Spritual Beings.  Not ONE SINGLE MAN who was in his circle of APOSTLES, in his Church, even though they left and became Governors, Superior Court Judges, etc., ever denounced him, or claimed him to be a phony, or not to have seen the Angels he claimed to have seen.  He had books of the Apacrapha revealed to him that Scientists found forty and fifty years later, which had been lost for over 1500 years, which he wrote about, and which were found to be accurate.  He was a Phenomenal person, a true Prophet, and a chosen MAN OF GOD.  At 14 years of age, with a third-grade education, and NO training, he wrote a book that paralleled the Bible.  
When the Mormon Missionaries came back for our next lesson, they brought Bibles, and starting sharing with me from the Bible, and to their surprise, I responded by turning to corresponding Scriptures from the Book of Mormon.  I then shared with them from Joseph Smith’s biography, and knowledge that God was teaching me from the writings of Joseph Smith, which I was reading.  I started reading a book a week, besides the Book of Mormon, and attending Church at the local Mormon Ward.  I was baptized as a Mormon, and started working with the Missionaries.  I brought my children to church with me, and baptized them.  Amazingly, we reached out to families that had come to Church in the past, and stopped coming.  In one such home we were introduced to an older woman who was sick, and suffered physical pain daily.  I put my hands on her, and healed her, In the name of Jesus Christ, just as Joseph Smith did, over 1,000 times, in his lifetime.   We went to another home and I did the same.  People started coming to Church to sit with me and hear me speak.  I started speaking in front of the whole congregation every few weeks.  During this time my wife and I reconciled, and I moved back home.  I took my kids to church with me.  I read a book every week I could on Mormonism, and I was befriended by a man whose family had access to the writings and books in the basement of the Mormon Temple, written by Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, and they got them for me to read.  
It was fall and there was a new Nativity that the Church was going to put on for the community, and they put me in charge of it.  We designed it differently, and after much thought I had people mime all the characters from the Bible, but we arranged things differently than I had ever seen.  Mary and Joseph found the cave, where they went to give birth to the baby Jesus.  However, when the baby Jesus was born, a light began to shine from him, which began to grow, and become stronger and brighter.  As it did, people in the audience took off their long coats, and became angels, with glowing lights, and approached the manger, singing, as their lights burst into brightness.  The Shepherds came from behind the crowd and bowed down before the baby, and then the Wise men came, and bowed down.  Then a great light came from behind the cave, which turned into a Palace, with huge glowing lights covering the walls, and finally a large light appeared with a man glistening, to stand behind the baby, stating, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased,” as the forty voice choir sang the Halleluiah Chorus.   The whole process was dynamic and very moving, and many in the audience were very moved, to the point where they made decisions to start coming to the Ward, and join the Church.  I was very proud of my friends in the Church, and we got a lot of publicity for Church because of the powerful performances we created.  I went into the Bishop’s Office the next week, and there had been complaints.   The Bishops from other Wards had complained that we left the normal pagent, and they felt ours was too much like a Hollywood Production.  The Choir Director from another Ward felt our Choir wasn’t strong enough and that we had weakened it because of the way we presented it. The Bishop wanted me to give my Sunday School class to another Elder in the Church, and they wanted me to become a High Priest in the Church.  But, I could see the politics, the jealousy, and the hypocrisy in the Church, against me, and my children, and decided that I wasn’t going to subject my children to grow up with it.  I stopped going to the church.
Not to bore you, next in my diversified life, and since this is being written about my experiences with God, we come to a story that many of you might not immediately understand or appreciate.  However, as you will see later, it does have deep roots in Scripture, and the knowledge and understanding of God.  
In the spring of 2002, I trained a dog for a couple, whose mother paid for the training.  When I found out their mother had paid for the training.  I began immediately to train this big Bull Mastiff to work in a wheelchair, as they said she only traveled in a wheel chair.  When I was done we took the dog home to their house.  After we worked the dog I had them get their mother, who came out to explain that she couldn’t work the dog, and he would never listen to her.  I handed her the leash and told her to take her dog around the block.  She came back wiping the tears from her face.  “Nobody ever did anything like this for me before,” she said.  What can I do for you in return?  I looked at her and saw fairies flying in and around and her.  “You are a white witch, very powerful,” I said.  “You are right, “she said.  “I’ve been a witch for many years.”  “You’re a teacher,” I said.  “Yes,” she replied.  “Then, teach me Wiccan,” I said.  She was shocked.  I told her about my past, and how the church taught everyone that Wicca was of the Devil, only evil, and not of God.  “I want to know Wicca for what it is, and experience the power of Wicca myself,” I said.  “Aren’t you afraid,” she asked.  “No, my faith in God is pretty strong, and I don’t think there’s anything to fear,” I said.  
We started the next Monday, at her house, in the den.  First, we did what she called ground and centering, like listening to a story, where you are put into the story, and you experience the story.  Then we went through a few pages of a tutorial.  Each week we studied a new aspect of “the craft”.  I learned what my Wiccan tools were, and how to use them to build Alters, and do prayer circles.  I learned about the astral circles, life circles, and how to create magic with my mind, focus on it, and actualize it into experience.  I learned how to astral project, remote project, and to expand my consciousness.  I learned how to meditate, to become one with all things.  I learned to focus my mind on whatever I wanted and speed up or slow down my mind.  A lot of Wiccan training has to do with mind control.  It has to do with the creation, focus, and use of energy in you, and the environment around you, to produce a desired effect.  Wicca has an entire spectrum of Gods and Goddesses, each with their own personality.  A Wiccan chooses the Deity that will empower them to do the specific job they desire.  
I had several problems with Wiccan, but the one major problem that got me kicked out of their Church was my relationship with their Chief Arch Angel, or watcher, the Deity Jesus Christ.  When Wiccan build their prayer alters, they call on the four major Arch Angels to protect them from spirits they don’t want. The first one is Michael, the God of Fire, who is none other than Jesus.  When I explained this to my Church, I wasn’t real popular.  Then they learned that they couldn’t do anything in secret that I couldn’t know about, that my spiritual abilities and empowerment were greater than theirs, and that was it.   My career in Wiccan became a thing of the past, which was OK.  I still do Wicca, almost daily, as it is a useful tool.  Many of the principles in Wicca are very practical, and positive.  
As a Christian, the Church in general is concerned about the evil connotations that they associate with people who practice Wiccan.  Though there are radicals practicing Wicca, I can assure you that there is no more wicked, evil, and darkness in Wicca than there is in the Church, and the difference is, Wiccans are more honest, and truthful than Christians in many ways, because they don’t have to hide it.
Hebrews 1:1-2 (NLT) “Long ago God spoke many times and in many ways to our ancestors through the prophets.  And now in these final days, he has spoken to us through his Son.  God promised everything to the Son as an inheritance, and through the Son he created the universe.”  Through Wicca I was able to gain understanding and connection with many of my spiritual Fathers and Mothers in a more comprehensive and knowledgeable way. Even Jesus used Wiccan principles in his ministry and worship.
From the time of my heavenly vision, my life changed before my eyes.  I started getting one client after another who came to me with Neurological Disabilities.  I realized the need on my part for more education, and began to enroll in Online University Courses, from noted Universities around the world, and received Certifications from several.  At the same time, my new commitment with God, and consecration to God started to kick in.  I started to get calls from people with a kind of disabilities.  It was wild.  People started coming to my facility for dogs, with all types of disabilities.  Pretty soon I had a whole kaleidoscope of people, coming with their families, training with me to find the help they needed.
I had two close friends who both had children with Autism.  One had a boy who was 21, and they had to institutionalize.  He died trying to eat dinner three weeks after being admitted into a Mental Health facility.  The others son had been kicked out of school for punching a teacher who was ignorant of his particular situation and had treated him inappropriately.  I got to work with him with my dog training and teach him about energies and personal feelings.  Upon getting him reinstated in school he would approach the students and teaching staff and tell them, “Bob Taylor told me to tell you that when you speak to me, it hurts me right here,” and he would point to his head, or his heart, or his stomach.  As he learned from his dog training lessons, how to project and receive energy, and how it affected him, or the dog he was working with, he became self-sensitive, and could recognize and respond to his feelings.  It made me sensitive to people who lived with their family with disabilities.  I started advertising and taking on courses for people with children, and partners, who had Autism, then Seizures, and Anxiety.  I then started working with dogs to do Search and Rescue, and the first dog I trained became the S&R National Champion.
These were people who wouldn’t be caught going to Church, Yet, they could feel God’s love inside of me, and feel his spirit reaching out to them, and I was constantly getting caught up in discussions with them about God.  To many of my clients, I was the only spiritual connection they had.  I was invited to one event after another, and pretty soon I had a whole set of clienteles who had purchased and were training Service Dogs for their families.  
The difference in clientele was immediately noticeable.   As the weeks turned into months, it became obvious that this new group of people came to us with pre-set mentality and feelings.  They felt singled out because of the people in their family who were disabled, and they were angry and disconnected spiritually.  They blamed God for the problems they had, and were immediately sensitive and apprehensive whenever approached about anything that was in any way spiritual.  
One day I was out in my training field, and talking with God, and I looked up, and in my mind I could see hundreds of people coming through my gates, with people who were disabled.  I could see them vividly, and it made me very emotional.  I finally stopped, set down, crying, and asked God, “Why ME”?  “That’s simple,” God said, “you were the only one who would listen.”  I stopped advertising for regular dog training, and from that day on only advertised for Service Dog training.  “The first rule in our covenant has to be Bob, that when I send someone to you, don’t throw them into the trash,” God said.  From that day to this I have kept this covenant and treated every single person who called as though they were sent to me by God.  I have done everything I could to help every single one.  
The most important thing was that I have been 100% consecrated to God’s will in my life, and 100% committed to following through with my work, as his servant.  I have had several clients who recognized God’s power, and realized how God was using me, many who have changed their lives and become Christians as a result of God’s work with me, and several employees who have come to me and admitted that when they came to work for me they didn’t believe in or care about God, but that since coming to work for me, they have changed their mind about God, because they could see him in ME, and come to know his love THOUGH their relationship with me.  Every single person who comes here has to face God’s love, and his power, in and through me, and our wonderful dogs, (we have 8 in our home) and just by coming onto our property.
At this time, four years ago, I decided to write a new book, and as I was led by my spiritual consciousness, I would write as I was directed by the spirits.  I started out to write my own commentary on the Bible but was diverted into writing a completely different book altogether, which I had never intended.  It became a fictitious novel which I wrote to protect myself from the onslaught of overly zealous religious fanatics.  As I continued strange things started happening to me.  My computer began to malfunction, and every time I started to write I was boggled down with all types of problems, which made my writing three to four times as hard to write with.  It was almost like my computer was suffering from problems that were causing it to malfunction and make me take three times as long to write script as it did before.  It felt like there were spirits were tormenting me, to stop me from writing, which did not affect me, because I am a very stubborn and committed man.  
At that time, I began to suffer from an ailment I now recognize I have been affected with all my life, narcolepsy, which has gone undiagnosed all my life.  I began to suffer from drowsiness, and sleepiness, which cause me to sleep right after lunch, and then before and after lunch, and then from the time I woke up, all day.  I began to be dizzy and had a hard time mentally coordinating with my physical body.  I, and everyone else, thought I was suffering from Dementia, and had become my own client.
The issues I was dealing with began to grow stronger and have a more powerful affect on me in a number of ways.  I began to fall several times a day.  I would sit down to work on my dysfunctional computer or watch TV and wake up an hour or so later, and not remember falling asleep.  As time went on the symptoms got worse and continued to have a stronger affect on me.  I had to stop working and started spending more and more time in my bed.  
I finally, after months of problems, began to feel like I had lost who I was, like Bob Taylor was dead, and I was lost.  I then, after finding out several concerns about my wife and family, decided to move to Las Vegas.  
I tried living with my daughter and her husband and kids, and it didn’t work.  The year before I had spent some time with them, and this year it was like they didn’t know me.  My daughter was shocked that in one year I had more than doubled my age of behavior.  “Last year you acted like a 66-year-old, in the body of a 35 year old, and this year act like a 67 year old, with the body and mind of a 90 year old.  She couldn’t believe me, and she was frustrated, angry, and upset, how her dad had lost everything that she liked about me.  In a short time she wanted me to leave.  I was ready the next morning, and went to a VA facility, where I was sent to a room in a VA facility for the homeless.  I spent three months there looking for a room in las Vegas where I could stay.  I ended up in a room in a home in North Vegas with a woman I trained a Service Dog with, during my time at the facility.  However, while I was in the VA facility I got to know the 65 other residents there, and several of them got to know me, share scripture with me, and I lead several to a closer walk with God.   During that time my condition worsened, I developed severe Vertigo, and my diabetes got out of control.  I then lived eight months in the home in Vegas, and finally had to return back to a VA facility for the homeless for three months.  I became very lonely, frustrated, my health worsened.  
I was going to the VA Hospital now, and spending time in Critical Care, about every three weeks, for out of control physical problems,  My narcolepsy was getting worse by the day, and I had to have help walking, and maintaining my balance.  I finally went in prayer to God, and asked him why this had happened to me, and how quickly this had destroyed my life and welfare.  I was now at a point of near death experiences, and wondered if I would even live to see an Assisted Living Facility.  God had an interesting answer to me, and told me that these things had happened to me because I was needed where I was.  He told me that the homeless needed a man like me, to help them realize there was a better way to live, that they needed to push forwards, and that my testimony would bring them hope, joy, and goodness.  I determined to go out of my way and reach at least one person with his love, truth, and goodness everyday.  I started serving them their food, doing good things for them, and showing them love.  In a short time over two dozen of then came to me, and accepted Christ was the lord of their life.  It became the main purpose in my life, and his love for these men became my main thrust in my life, and my main reason for living.
While I was there I went on the internet started searching for a home where I could live, and have a dog.  I found one, and was accepted for a one year lease.  It was the first time a vet had every done this, so everyone was shocked and excited.  I moved into the home, and it was the back house on a property with two homes.  It felt so good to be in my own home, even if it faced and was twenty feet from the alley behind the main street.  The problem was that over 100 homeless and very poor people walked up and down the alley each day, and since I was right there, I sat in the porch outside the home, and had a ready audience of people, just ready for me to reach them as I desired.  I loved my home, and I loved the location, and my ability to sit and reach them.  






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