I would have to say that I am a rambunctious sort, and very zealous in my beliefs. One of the reasons I am so staunch about my beliefs is my past.
I was raised a Lutheran and was even an Acolyte, and choirboy. I have heard of Jesus. Everyone knows about the manager, and the death and resurrection, But the thing is at the same times I was dabbling with Witchcraft, and even performing Satanic rites. Later on in life, I got into Wicca/occultism. For me, this is where the line between Wicca, Occultism, and Satanism gets blurry. Gardnerian Wicca, which I practiced, has the Great Right and The third-degree initiation ceremony, both of which were greatly influenced by Aleister Crowley. Aleister Crowley was known by name as "The Great Beast 666" and was a definite Satanist and occultist. So it stands to reason to me that if his Gnostic Mass from Satanism almost completely comprises the Great Rite from Wicca, they are one and the same. So I see all three as true Satan worship.
Please keep in mind that I was young and dumb at this point in time and did not truly worship Satan. We were so naïve we thought the Necronomicon was real and were playing with an Ouija Board made by Hasbro. We were idiots.... Just a bunch of stupid kids smoking pot, reading hp Lovecraft, playing dungeons & dragons, and listening to Deicide.
That having being said I got into a rough crowd, and subsequently got in trouble with the law, and spent time in prison. The thing was, I was an addict, and as an addict, I acted out in ways I wouldn't when I was sober. An, oh my...... let me tell you what it's like to come off of drugs in a jail cell. Not. Fun.
When I finally came down I actually remember the moment where the ringing in my ears stopped. I didn't even know they were ringing until I heard the silence. I look at the bars and I said to myself, "what do I do now?" I was a young punk that couldn't even fight, knew nothing of the streets. Some middle-class white boy in the middle of, killers, drug dealers, gang bangers, and thugs. Oh yeah, then there was my bunkmate Michael Edwin Kaprat. Serial murderer and rapist known as "The Granny Killer." You can Google him, you will find him. He was killed in prison by Rigoberto Sanchez, at Lake Butler as matter of fact. Point being, this was my new life, and home. Fear is not the term I would use. It was a white hot feeling across my face and a tightness in my chest. Panic, terror, more likely. I checked in to protective custody after being assaulted for the first time.
This is where things came together for me. I grew accustomed to the daily routine, and got over some of my fears, right up to the point that I witnessed William Grabble get cut with a tomahawk really viciously. Right in front of my cell. He was leaking bad. There was blood everywhere. Even our guard got cut. I remember just standing at the bars of my cell in horror. When I finally sat down on my rack, I came to realize that the dripping noise I was hearing was his blood going down the floor drain. Locked in my cell, I couldn't get away. I was forced to face it, and I cried out to a God I didn't know In hopes he would hear me. " Jesus, if you really are who you say you are I need you to reveal yourself to me." I remember saying "I need God. not a god" and I remember saying that I didn't know if Jesus was God, or who was God, but I specifically stated I was talking to the creator of all existence, and the God of all creation, time, and space. If you reveal your self to me I will serve you.
Before the witness of Christ Jesus himself before the white throne of judgment may he bare witness this is true: I told Jesus that if he was real, and revealed himself to me I will serve you. What I asked him was the first thing I wanted to see was a sign, and that sign was a roommate on the top bunk of my new cell when I got to prison, that was a Christian to teach me in his ways. When I got to Lake Butler and went to my cell my roommate jumped off the top bunk, smiling ear to ear just beaming. He shook my hand and said, and I quote: " Thank God! I've been praying for a roommate!" I was astounded. God was real. Jesus was God.
Now, this is when I came to the knowledge of who Christ was, but I had not yet come to the saving knowledge of Christ to become born again. I went back to my old ways. I was hanging around with members of folk, doing bad stuff, working with contraband. I had a subscription to Hustler. Which made me mad money. Was into making tattoo ink, and other illegal activities. Got into fights, and did about 2 years in the box altogether.
One day, Scott Rodriguez, who was the biggest white boy on the pound grabbed me by my shirt, lift me off my feet, and slammed me against the wall. Then he proceeded to calmly ask me what I was doing? And asked me why I hadn't held to my word and followed Christ? After he read my mail like he was in the cell with me when I had first prayed that prayer like 2 yrs ago, I realized he was getting inside info on me and I better listen. So we talked. Then he asked me to come to the bible study. Well, I actually laughed at him so hard he shook his head got up and left without saying a word. Me? A bible study....... Is he crazy?
For some reason, I could not shake the feeling of importance for me to go to the meeting, so I went. As I sat down I was asked to introduce myself and say a few things about my self... But something came over me. It was the first time I ever felt the holy spirit, and I was made aware of every wrong I had ever done. Every crime, every sin. I was laid bare before God, and I sobbed, wept, like a baby out of shame of what I had done to my family. This was the first time in my life I ever even considered I was hurting my family and not just myself. I confessed everything, asked for forgiveness, and Scott leads me down the Roman Road and brought me to Jesus. Let me tell ya..... when you accept Christ for the first time you literally feel the change. This wasn't some god you babble too and do rituals and spells. It was just woosh.... I am your God.
So I began my walk with Christ in prison amidst the hardest contention, and worst persecution I have ever faced thus far in my walk. I miss it.... Yes that right, you read right. There is a unity, and a faithfulness in persecution you can not find in the apathetic masses of mainstream Christendom. I have faced serial murders, and had to look them in the eye, and tell them about Jesus while they are telling me they are going to kill me. That they don't want my bleeping Jesus, and the only reason we're in the conversation is they came against me!
I remember staring a man down with a shank pointed at my throat, not two feet from me. He came around my bunk while I was occupied reading the bible, and interrupted me. I looked him dead in the eyes and told him "I'm sitting here in the name of Jesus Christ, by whose authority do you come against me? There is no authority but that which is given by God, and without such authority, you cannot harm one hair on my head." He cussed at me and yelled, yadda, yadda, yadda, but he couldn't do anything, and the cool thing is I knew it. Because I knew who my God was.
All these stories are true to the best of my knowledge with a clear conscience before God, and Jesus. Hope I didn't bore anyone to death, and if you have any questions, shoot away.
I was raised a Lutheran and was even an Acolyte, and choirboy. I have heard of Jesus. Everyone knows about the manager, and the death and resurrection, But the thing is at the same times I was dabbling with Witchcraft, and even performing Satanic rites. Later on in life, I got into Wicca/occultism. For me, this is where the line between Wicca, Occultism, and Satanism gets blurry. Gardnerian Wicca, which I practiced, has the Great Right and The third-degree initiation ceremony, both of which were greatly influenced by Aleister Crowley. Aleister Crowley was known by name as "The Great Beast 666" and was a definite Satanist and occultist. So it stands to reason to me that if his Gnostic Mass from Satanism almost completely comprises the Great Rite from Wicca, they are one and the same. So I see all three as true Satan worship.
Please keep in mind that I was young and dumb at this point in time and did not truly worship Satan. We were so naïve we thought the Necronomicon was real and were playing with an Ouija Board made by Hasbro. We were idiots.... Just a bunch of stupid kids smoking pot, reading hp Lovecraft, playing dungeons & dragons, and listening to Deicide.
That having being said I got into a rough crowd, and subsequently got in trouble with the law, and spent time in prison. The thing was, I was an addict, and as an addict, I acted out in ways I wouldn't when I was sober. An, oh my...... let me tell you what it's like to come off of drugs in a jail cell. Not. Fun.
When I finally came down I actually remember the moment where the ringing in my ears stopped. I didn't even know they were ringing until I heard the silence. I look at the bars and I said to myself, "what do I do now?" I was a young punk that couldn't even fight, knew nothing of the streets. Some middle-class white boy in the middle of, killers, drug dealers, gang bangers, and thugs. Oh yeah, then there was my bunkmate Michael Edwin Kaprat. Serial murderer and rapist known as "The Granny Killer." You can Google him, you will find him. He was killed in prison by Rigoberto Sanchez, at Lake Butler as matter of fact. Point being, this was my new life, and home. Fear is not the term I would use. It was a white hot feeling across my face and a tightness in my chest. Panic, terror, more likely. I checked in to protective custody after being assaulted for the first time.
This is where things came together for me. I grew accustomed to the daily routine, and got over some of my fears, right up to the point that I witnessed William Grabble get cut with a tomahawk really viciously. Right in front of my cell. He was leaking bad. There was blood everywhere. Even our guard got cut. I remember just standing at the bars of my cell in horror. When I finally sat down on my rack, I came to realize that the dripping noise I was hearing was his blood going down the floor drain. Locked in my cell, I couldn't get away. I was forced to face it, and I cried out to a God I didn't know In hopes he would hear me. " Jesus, if you really are who you say you are I need you to reveal yourself to me." I remember saying "I need God. not a god" and I remember saying that I didn't know if Jesus was God, or who was God, but I specifically stated I was talking to the creator of all existence, and the God of all creation, time, and space. If you reveal your self to me I will serve you.
Before the witness of Christ Jesus himself before the white throne of judgment may he bare witness this is true: I told Jesus that if he was real, and revealed himself to me I will serve you. What I asked him was the first thing I wanted to see was a sign, and that sign was a roommate on the top bunk of my new cell when I got to prison, that was a Christian to teach me in his ways. When I got to Lake Butler and went to my cell my roommate jumped off the top bunk, smiling ear to ear just beaming. He shook my hand and said, and I quote: " Thank God! I've been praying for a roommate!" I was astounded. God was real. Jesus was God.
Now, this is when I came to the knowledge of who Christ was, but I had not yet come to the saving knowledge of Christ to become born again. I went back to my old ways. I was hanging around with members of folk, doing bad stuff, working with contraband. I had a subscription to Hustler. Which made me mad money. Was into making tattoo ink, and other illegal activities. Got into fights, and did about 2 years in the box altogether.
One day, Scott Rodriguez, who was the biggest white boy on the pound grabbed me by my shirt, lift me off my feet, and slammed me against the wall. Then he proceeded to calmly ask me what I was doing? And asked me why I hadn't held to my word and followed Christ? After he read my mail like he was in the cell with me when I had first prayed that prayer like 2 yrs ago, I realized he was getting inside info on me and I better listen. So we talked. Then he asked me to come to the bible study. Well, I actually laughed at him so hard he shook his head got up and left without saying a word. Me? A bible study....... Is he crazy?
For some reason, I could not shake the feeling of importance for me to go to the meeting, so I went. As I sat down I was asked to introduce myself and say a few things about my self... But something came over me. It was the first time I ever felt the holy spirit, and I was made aware of every wrong I had ever done. Every crime, every sin. I was laid bare before God, and I sobbed, wept, like a baby out of shame of what I had done to my family. This was the first time in my life I ever even considered I was hurting my family and not just myself. I confessed everything, asked for forgiveness, and Scott leads me down the Roman Road and brought me to Jesus. Let me tell ya..... when you accept Christ for the first time you literally feel the change. This wasn't some god you babble too and do rituals and spells. It was just woosh.... I am your God.
So I began my walk with Christ in prison amidst the hardest contention, and worst persecution I have ever faced thus far in my walk. I miss it.... Yes that right, you read right. There is a unity, and a faithfulness in persecution you can not find in the apathetic masses of mainstream Christendom. I have faced serial murders, and had to look them in the eye, and tell them about Jesus while they are telling me they are going to kill me. That they don't want my bleeping Jesus, and the only reason we're in the conversation is they came against me!
I remember staring a man down with a shank pointed at my throat, not two feet from me. He came around my bunk while I was occupied reading the bible, and interrupted me. I looked him dead in the eyes and told him "I'm sitting here in the name of Jesus Christ, by whose authority do you come against me? There is no authority but that which is given by God, and without such authority, you cannot harm one hair on my head." He cussed at me and yelled, yadda, yadda, yadda, but he couldn't do anything, and the cool thing is I knew it. Because I knew who my God was.
All these stories are true to the best of my knowledge with a clear conscience before God, and Jesus. Hope I didn't bore anyone to death, and if you have any questions, shoot away.
