Mountain Whispers

Yesterday, my church youth group went on a hike in a bowl valley that’s just under Mount Timpanogos. I received a couple of revelations that I would like to share.

When we headed back to eat a snack in the park after the hike, I was standing with Dan on a bridge. He had been remarking (with shock and surprise, I might add) that the river’s level was a lot higher than he had previously predicted.

It wasn’t necessarily this specifically, but I had notice that nature seemed to be undergoing some dramatic changes recently. And they weren’t really big things, like the river. Mount Timpanogos was capped in snow, and the snow hadn’t even begun to melt. This river was moving at about 15—20 miles an hour, and its level had significantly raised. The river would probably begin to flood when the snow started melting.

It wasn’t just that. There were the erosion lines in the hills. They were natural and eerily unnatural looking at the same time. There were random signs that I can’t recall that seemed to say that the whole mountain and canyon was undergoing some hefty changes.

But there were other things that weren’t just in the mountain. Just a week ago, it had been raining. Utah is just coming out of a seven-year drought, and the rain has been welcome. But it caused flooding in some areas a month or so ago, and there’s a threat that the Wasatch front may flood soon as well, if rain doesn’t stop coming. A week ago around noon, there was a solid drizzle slowly falling when I walked outside during school. The drizzle was of such a nature that one could tell that if the air was somewhat colder, the drizzle would be a light snow. It was heavy and falling slowly.

As these things went through my mind, the Spirit spoke to me. “The earth is changing to symbolize future changes.”

As I pondered this, I wondered in my heart, “What kinds of changes could they be symbolizing?”

The Spirit whispered, “Dramatic events are about to come to pass in the earth among the children of men.”

This would not be the first time that I receive a prompting from the Holy Ghost that the world is heading for something, or some things, that are bad. The peace and calm that remotely exists now is the calm before the big storm comes. And you can feel it in the wind, if you try to feel it hard enough. And I had felt this in the wind many times before.

I’ll give one example. One day in the middle of my chemistry class, after we graded homework, I was putting my papers in my backpack when I was suddenly struck with something. This feeling of…threat…or danger. I can’t fully describe the feeling. It was just this sure knowledge that something was happening, or had just happened, or was about to happen, that was…perhaps not life-threatening, but life-altering. Not something necessarily big, but something worth worrying about. And this feeling seemed to give a shadow. The shadow loomed and grew over my heart.

The most interesting part about this revelation is that I wasn’t the only one. I don’t know why, but for some odd reason I felt like turning around and asking my friend Amaya if she felt something weird. Out of sheer randomness. Amaya actually confirmed that she did feel something, and she even used the exact same phrases that I used above to describe it.

After chemistry, I had lunch. I started asking some random friends if they had felt something during third period. Almost as if they knew I would ask, each friend I asked confirmed that they did. And, they used the exact same phrases as well to describe the feeling. The amount of friends totaled to around eight to ten people.

Over the next while, if I thought of it and the mood was right, I asked other friends about the feeling. And everyone I asked said, using the same phrases for description, that they did. The people varied from a Star Wars geek to a girl I had a crush on in elementary school to a skater punk to my class “Mr. Everything” (student body president, church youth leader, etc.) to one of the biggest flirts I’ve ever met…and the weird part is that they used the same phrases (“not life-threatening, but life-altering; not something necessarily big, but something worth worrying about”). And, they all had it at the same time—sometime before noon, on such and such a day in the middle of October 2004.

When this memory came to me in my heart, the Spirit prompted me that I should start preparing myself and others for whatever was coming. And that I should begin this summer. This year had been hectic for me, and I should use this time to prepare, change and grow.

I’m still not sure exactly what all these revelations mean. But I intend to follow the promptings, because I know that they aren’t something my mind concocted. They are of God. And there is something of a warning tone in the voice of the Spirit each time.

The tone seems to be saying that the days are numbered.

Ignorance—The Lost Years

How could I not have known, when I started learning about experiencing the mighty change of heart, that this had happened to me already? The Holy Ghost was a very strong influence in my life whenever I was righteous—and such a presence wasn’t recognizable before. How could I have been ignorant?

There are several possible reasons. One is that Satan, aware of what had happened and knowing that this is what I was looking for, tried to distort and confuse my thoughts. Up until the Morning at the Mount Timpanogos Temple, I had only though of my Thursday at EFY as a spiritual experience and something that built my testimony.

I was also very aware that if I ever denied what happened that night in Helaman Halls—if I ever denied my knowledge of the Savior, Jesus Christ—I would instantly become a Son of Perdition. Because of the nature of the moment that based my testimony, I no longer had faith in Christ. I had a knowledge of Him. And faith and knowledge are two different things. Most people only have faith in His existence—few have the knowledge that is as undeniable as the sun at noonday of Jesus Christ. I must admit that even after that night I have started to waver and even know, exercise great faith in Joseph Smith. I don’t have a sure knowledge of his work. But I have a sure knowledge of Christ. Should I ever deny Him, I would fall into the ultimate darkness as soon as the words left my mouth.

It’s of note that the “strong influences when I was righteous” were, as I look back, very few. Because in actuality, I was in the light for a little while longer that week before twilight came, and before the end of summer 2002 night had fallen again. And the sun would not rise again until spring 2005. The moments in between where there was light were very few. I can’t even remember because there were hardly any. Towards the end of fall 2004 and during the winter, a very close friend who was practically my older brother found a way to make light shine into the cracks of my heart and my darkened world. But that was it. So for me to recognize that I had the gift of the Holy Ghost was difficult.

And I would so venture to say that Satan probably tried that much harder to win me back. When you are born again, one thing that happens is that Satan is allowed to try you harder. Satan, for whatever reasons (some I know, some I don’t), wanted me under his control. He wanted my heart in his kingdom. If I ever fully realized what happened to me at EFY, I would have been a great stumbling block in his path.

In the very least, he was stalling for time and keeping me running in circles searching for this born again experience since I’m nearing the age when Mormon men go on missions. He wanted to keep me in Babylon as long as he could.

It’s also possible, accumulating all of the above, that he was using my darkness to keep me from realizing that I’d already been born again. Because once I did, he’d have one heck of a time trying to get me to default to Perdition. And while even now I am still vulnerable in other ways than the Hauntings, I still am much, much, much more stronger than last night (metaphorically speaking).

However, I don’t dwell on why it took me such a long time to come to the light and wake up to the dawn. I’m so glad for my experience at EFY, and I’m even going this year (sixteen days to go!!). It will be my first return to EFY since 2002.

And all I can say is that, like Sheri Dew, I hope that every time I awaken in the morning, put on some clothes, put in my contacts, and get ready for school, somewhere in his kingdom the Dark One groans to himself: “Oh, great. He’s up again.”

The Baptism of Fire: Born Again

...Then the guys had our own devotional. We walked into a commons area that was also a balcony for the Halls.

I can remember that Quinn said something…he said something to the effect of, “If your hearts are open, you’ll have a cool experience tonight.” So I opened my heart.

Quinn began reading an article by an LDS authority named Bruce R. McKonkie. I can’t remember if it was the exact title, but it was referred to as “The Miracle of Gethsemane”. It took me months and months to find it later.) I think that it was the last talk McKonkie gave before his death.

The article started out describing the Savior’s experience on the Mount of Olives. As Quinn read it aloud, there was a sense of reverence in the air. An absolute respect for the Spirit of God hung in the room. (I am sorry to note that I have never since experienced that reverence in a room full of guys my age—and girls.) Quinn’s reading traced the suffering in the Garden and the betrayal of the Christ. Then he passed the magazine to someone else to read.

In my memories, I can remember that the article went briefly into the intensity of the suffering that the Savior endured next in the flogging and the trials. I don’t know how this entered my mind, because later when I went over the article these parts weren’t as striking as I remembered them to be.

All I know is, I never expected what happened next, as premature as it sounds. The guy that was reading the article began crying. His sobs choked his voice as he read, and they continued to strain his voice until he could no longer read. He passed it. The next guy couldn’t read it either, for he too was full of emotion.

I was kinda half-paying attention at this point, so I knew what was going on around me. But it was only when I really blinked my eyes that I realized that almost every guy in the room was overcome with…something. Quinn was sitting in silence, almost as if he knew that this was going on and he was used to it. The guy next to me seemed to be chuckling—until I later realized that he was stuffing back crying himself. Quinn and I were the only ones almost void of all emotion. I was ashamed that I had no tears of my own.

One guy full of emotion sobbed, “He said…he said ‘Thy will be done…’”. He was completely broken down. His quote was filled with so much anguish and such a tone that if you had just walked into the room, and had never heard of the Bible, you could guess just by hearing the way he said it that he was describing someone’s dying words. Just by listening to his extremely emotional lament.

Because the reader couldn’t finish his sentence, Quinn took the magazine back and picked up where the reading left off. I listened as Quinn went on to describe the road to Calvary, the suffering on the cross, and the final victory when the Savior gave up the ghost. Quinn put the magazine down for a moment and observed the scene around him.

Something was happening in the room…I could feel it. I’ve gone back and read the article as I said. It’s not that the article is touching, though it surely could be that. It was something else: the Spirit had entered the room. And I was missing it. I didn’t even know that that’s what happened. I just knew that these new friends of mine were truly touched and overcome with emotion because of what they were holding on to. And I didn’t have that.

Quinn broke the sound of silent crying. “I know it hurts, guys,” he said quietly. “I know it hurts. But just listen: here’s the best part.” Then Quinn reopened the magazine and continued reading. The article spoke of the Garden Tomb and the Easter Morn, when the Lord appeared glorified and resurrected to Mary. Then it talked about the Atonement of the Savior.

Somewhere in this time, Quinn played a song that came with the EFY soundtrack CD for that year’s program, called “In His Embrace.” This song wasn’t particularly moving for me, either. And while it didn’t stir everyone else the way “The Miracle of Gethsemane” had, it still somehow affected everyone in an emotional way.

I was feeling something, but not in the way everyone else seemed to be. (This next parallel should prove very fitting…) It was like standing next to a fire or outside while a wind is blowing. You can tell where it is, and you can feel it all around you. But somehow you don’t feel it inside, and you don’t know where it is or where it’s going.

What happened next defies all possible description and has changed my life.

I don’t remember the exact order of events. I just know that at some point between Quinn’s closing remarks and standing up something in me exploded. It felt like I had caught fire with something, and the fire was inside me. I was so…filled. And I was excited because I had no idea what this new thing could possibly be. It just felt like I had woken up, or moved to a different room, or put on a new jacket, or taken off a hat…I cannot compare it to much of anything to adequately describe it. I had been changed somewhere. Something within me was new and different and changed. And there was this overflowing feeling of happiness and peace and glory. It completely submerged me. The feeling was almost purifying.

In this moment of evanescence, I knew without a doubt that the Book of Mormon was true and that Joseph Smith was a prophet. It was the whole ‘Mormon testimony’ experience that gets trumpeted from the pulpit so often. But this testimony went deeper: I knew that Jesus Christ was real. I knew that He had died for me and that He was a real person who lives. This single assurance, this sure knowledge, was it for me. This little moment in time was rock-hard proof of the reality of the Messiah for me. I knew of the Christ, and nothing could possibly make me deny it. All because of that inexpressible, unexplainable moment.

My favorite part of this memory other than the feelings (because it’s impossible to fully and adequately recreate them) is the look on everyone else’s face—especially their eyes. They knew what was happening to me, and they had felt it, too. And we were seeing eye to eye, heart to heart. There was a complete, perfect sense of harmony in that room, on that balcony.

Well, like I said, I wasn’t completely the same person after that. True, I would succumb back into the dark night just a few weeks later. But something in me was now ready to fight back. For the first time I really wanted to get rid of the darkness. And I had a light that had been set aflame in my heart.

I had been sanctified. I had become born of God, baptized of fire, and received the gift of the Holy Ghost.

In the Twilight

As with the Lamanite people of ancient Mesoamerica, I had been born again and I knew it not. I had been born of God that June night of 2002 at EFY in Helaman Halls, BYU.

Thinking back to that summer of 2002, my heart starts to soar with some kind of echoed excitement. I get swept in a wave of nostalgia. I can still feel the heat on my face from those days. I can taste the pine tree taste in the air outside Helaman Halls. I can still hear the songs from the Spider-Man soundtrack my dad had just bought me that would get stuck in my head.

I’ve forgotten some details of my week at EFY, but I’ll never forget that one night. EFY, or Especially For Youth, is an LDS program for youth ages 14-18. It’s almost like a spiritual summer camp. You stay in the dorms of the college you’re staying at. You have devotionals, lessons, and scripture studies, as well as social events like dances and talent shows. EFY is held at locations all across the globe (there’s even an outdoor EFY called Adventures for Youth, which I hear is funner than EFY). The EFY program at the Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, is by far the most popular one. Rooms for the dorms sell out in less than a week almost every year.

EFY was extremely expensive for my financial situation in 2002, so it is clear that it was by the grace of the Lord that I attended at all. I was only 14, and the name of the program that year was “We Believe”—which had a special emphasis on the Restoration period of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints as well as the first prophet and president, Joseph Smith.

I guess it’s fair to say that I didn’t have a very strong testimony when I was 14. I mean, I wasn’t doubtful or anything. I just wasn’t very strong in the gospel. Like many Mormon teens today as well as back then, I developed this kind of “Okay, so it’s true—who cares?” attitude. This mentality is very strong in the minds of youth that have been raised in the Church, and it’s especially prevailent among the youth that are raised in the Church in Utah. And even more so in Utah Valley. My attitude was more or less influenced by these factors, as well as the fact that I was still struggling with my dark side. The Hauntings didn’t exist in this time period.

[Interestingly enough, my friend Eric—who I mention in “Blue and Yellow”—was supposed to come with me and bunk in my room (you get the option of choosing your own roommate when you register for EFY). But at the last second, he couldn’t make it to EFY that year. So I walked into the dorms I was staying in, called Helaman Halls, shy and weary of who my roommate would be. Turns out that the other guy—who had my same same—never showed up. And this was both good and bad.]

All through the week, I was having a pretty good time—up until Wednesday afternoon, when I allowed my darkness to take over me while in that lonely room in Helaman Halls. I felt so disgraceful and ashamed, and thought of myself as a failure. I almost wanted to run away home, and couldn’t wait for the week to end.

My dorm group’s counselor, Quinn, had told us at the beginning of the week that Thursday was going to be the most spiritual day of EFY. So I woke up on Thursday morning hoping that today something spiritual would happen to me to somehow make me a better person. Looking back, I’m not quite sure what I was expecting. I just wanted something to happen…anything.

The day was almost uneventful. We did have to wear formal dress the entire day. I can remember attending a lesson on how to be a missionary that was for the guys only. Then there was some kind of activity at noon, which followed until the evening. I can remember that during the evening, my group (made up of nine guys and around twice as many girls) had it’s own special testimony meeting before heading back to Helaman Halls. Then the guys had our own devotional. We walked into a commons area that was also a balcony for the Halls.

I can remember that Quinn said something…he said something to the effect of, “If your hearts are open, you’ll have a cool experience tonight.” So I opened my heart.

Revelations

In August 2004, I was taking a summer session of Driver’s Ed at my high school, Orem High. I would sometimes visit a teacher at Orem High’s LDS seminary institute after classes. One day when I went for a visit, they were in the middle of a prep meeting, so I went into a separate room to wait.

While I was in the room, I decided to start praying. I gave one of the hardest prayers I’ve ever prayed. I told my Heavenly Father that all I wanted, with all my heart, was to become sanctified/born again, receive a mighty change/a baptism of fire/the gift of the Holy Ghost. I told Him that if He would but show me the way, and tell me how to do it, then I’d do it. I’d walk through fire if it was necessary. I would give anything—even myself. My sins, my life…anything.

Now, it’s basic gospel in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints that God speaks to men on the earth today. There is a true prophet of God who receives revelation on behalf of the church. But every child of God is entitled to receive personal revelation from God as well. All they have to do is knock. He answers His children and reveals light unto them in their own way of learning and their own understanding.

Heavenly Father—in His infinite love and patience—knows that I am a slow learner, and sometimes require visual aids. My forms of personal revelation are dreams, physical symbols/signs, and (most frequently) a whisper. A whisper that is as clear-sounding and deep-resonating as a bell. Usually it’s a whispered voice accompanied by either a dream or a sign.

For this particular revelation, God gave me instruction: first as a whisper, then as a symbol (which He prepared in the heavens beforehand, since He knew how I would take it). As I was asking Him to please reveal to me what I should do in order to have my desire granted, I heard a voice (which I’ve become accustomed to hearing) say, “Go to the temple. Offer up unto me a sacrifice of a broken heart and a contrite spirit in the temple.”

As I said before, I’m a little slow. So I didn’t really get this at first, blunt and simple as it was. I thought that it was just my mind playing tricks on me. Because I knew that in order to go to a temple, you’ve got to be pure—clean hands and a pure heart. At this time period, I was still very much an angel of the dark and a creature of the night. My hands were filthy.

I got up and wandered the room, the impression still coming. ”Offer up a sacrifice…in the temple…” It was so strong, and I didn’t believe it was really a revelation. (I guess that looking back on it now I realize I might have thought that to become worthy to go to a temple was impossible for someone as lowly as me. I was doubtful, lazy, and afraid. But God knew that already…)

I wandered to the window and casually gazed out the window. But quickly I realized what was going on, and I couldn’t believe it. I testify to the reader that this is not exaggerated, but real—almost too incredible to be false.

Orem City rests under the shadow of a rather large mountain, called Mount Timpanogos. At this time, Timpanogos was surrounded on it’s sides by some clouds, but otherwise the sky was remotely clear.

There was a cloud approaching the face of the mount. (Again, no exaggeration…I should have taken a picture, I swear…) The cloud was shaped exactly like a kneeling human figure. The human’s arms were raised above its head, and the head bowed reverently and humbly. The closer I looked, the more I realized that the lumpish cloud the human figure was holding towards Mount Timpanogos…was a heart.

A renewed burst of spiritual flow came with the assurance that this was a real revelation and personal instruction: Go to the temple and offer up a sacrifice…go to the temple…a sacrifice…go to the temple….

Almost as if the symbolic message I had recieved was the cloud figure’s sole purpose and fate, the figure promptly dismantled into a mesh of cloud that overtook Timpanogos. And I knew without a doubt, that this was my task and quest. My commandment from God was to go to His holy temple.

And He had even told me which one: there’s a temple in Spanish Fork—the Mount Timpanogos Temple. While there is a temple in Orem’s next door neighbor, Provo, the Mount Timpanogos Temple was my personal favorite. And…little did I know…that temple would be the best one for certain events to transpire.

Well, between September 2004 and April 2005 was the hardest battle I had ever fought. And I proclaim with love for my Heavenly Father that I have conquered in Him and His Son, Jesus Christ. Because of His grace and mercy, he “hath seen fit to snatch me out of an everlasting burning. (Book of Mormon)” More will detail this time period in a later post.

On April 30th, I entered a temple of the Lord—in a mountain—to offer up a sacrifice of a broken heart and a contrite spirit. It was in the House of God that the Spirit revealed to my heart that I had received a remission of my sins. It was there also that I received the impression that I had already received that which I sought—the gift of the Holy Ghost.

I went home overcome with gratitude, and overcome with this immense feeling of freedom, security, and absolute peace. That was my favorite feeling of all: peace. I hadn't felt so free in all my life, or so much peace. Indeed, after ten years or so of darkness and bondage, I was rescued and now free, brought into light. I praised loudly in my heart, "Free at last! Free at last!! Thank God Almighty, I am free at last!!!"

P.S. I'm black, so I get license for that. :)

I collapsed on my bed that morning, feeling so happy and peaceful. So content and free. Though in some hours I would be rushing around for prom, and though I had also been told that from now on I'd have to work very hard because things would get darker and tougher around me...I could rest now. For the first time in years, I could sleep well. I was safe in a warm embrace, the embrace of my Savior.

The following lyric by Coldplay really illustrates the feeling I had at the time. Listening to the song will really give you a sense of the mood and feeling I had as well.

"Daylight"

To my surprise, and my delight
I saw sunrise, I saw sunlight
I am nothing in the dark
And the clouds burst to show daylight.

Ooh, and the sun will shine
Yeah, on this heart of mine
Ooh, and I realize
Who cannot live without
Ooh, come apart without it.

On a hilltop, on a skyrise
Like a firstborn child
On a full day, and a full flight,
Defeat darkness—breaking daylight.

Ooh, and the sun will shine
Yeah, on this heart of mine
Ooh, and I realize
Who cannot live without
Ooh, come apart without
Daylight.

Slowly breaking through the daylight,
Slowly breaking through the daylight...


So...when did I become born of God? In my next post, I’ll tell of the night that changed my life—and the infinite mercies of God.

Wishing on a Star

I guess that I should start at the beginning.

*One thing that I will note is that I am a Christian. Specifically, I am a Mormon, or a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I have been met with hostility before on the Internet because some people think that Mormons aren’t Christians. I wish to assure you that Mormons are about as Christian as you can get.

Since I was a little kid, I’d been struggling with an internal evil. A darkness that I came to love. I didn’t even know that it was something evil until I was older. I couldn’t even tell when I was in the dark. Then in the year 2001 it got worse when another door of darkness was opened, and my dark nature grew worse. (Perhaps in a later entry I will confess exactly what it was.)

In the summer of 2002, I had a spiritual experience at a sort of program for youth in my church that lasts a week at BYU, called Especially For Youth (EFY). Something about my life was never quite the same after that. I knew the dark in me and I wanted to change.

However, the more light that you receive the harder you are tried to be worthy of it. And the bigger the likelihood that you can turn back to your old, dark ways. I want to share a line from the video game “Kingdom Hearts” to illustrate this point. No other sentence I’ve ever heard brings my point across better than this:

“The closer you get to light, the greater your shadow becomes.”

Sometime in the following months, I learned about becoming born again. It’s a Christian gospel concept that, in my religion, basically means you become sanctified by the Spirit of the Holy Ghost, and you receive “a mighty change in your heart”. You have “no more disposition to do evil”, and you have been born of God. You bear the name of Christ and you have given your heart to him. And most importantly, you receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, and you have officially entered through the door and are now on the road to eternal life.

I wanted this more than anything for the longest time. Since fall of 2002, this was my greatest dream and greatest wish. But the light in my heart would fall again and again to the dark in my heart—which was so much deeper.

[Before I continue, I wish to make it very clear that every single thing I say next (and this goes for the rest of my blog posts) is true. I stand before God and testify of these realities. Every thing you are about to read is not delusions of a confused teenager. They are real. And they happen. And they happened to me.]

The evil nature within me that was constantly battling was composed mostly of three things: a dark habit, a disease I called “moving pictures”, and something that is termed as a “crime against nature”. Among these things, there was also slothfulness, laziness, and rudeness—smaller roots, the underlying thread that laced around my heart weaving it together being a particularly bitter seed of pride.

Added to these things were severe sessions of temptations where voices, images, or both, would rush through my mind over and over like a mile-long runaway train. These buffetings I refer to as the Hauntings, for that is what they truly were. These were not Hauntings of ghost spirits, but rather temptations of evil spirits that wished to see my soul destroyed. My room became Haunted, literally owned by angels of the Dark One. Soon empty rooms in my house became Haunted, and hallways at my junior high. Eventually, the emptiness in my heart, the empty chambers where light once had been, became Haunted—and in a sense, I became possessed.

This cloud of darkness, this mist of the night, constantly swirled in my heart. Something that best describes it is the following excerpt from the song “Easier to Run” by Linkin Park:

“Something has been taken from deep inside of me
A secret I’ve kept locked away no one could ever see
Wounds so deep they never show, they never go away
Like moving pictures in my head, for years and years they’ve played…
Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past
Bringing back these memories I wish I didn’t have…

Each and every single word describes my feelings. Another song by Linkin Park does the job even better. (I found that it was almost creepy the way Linkin Park’s music described my life down to the proverbial brass tack. This song is something they wrote when they were still called Hybrid Theory.)

”Part of Me”

Part of me won’t go away—everyday, reminded of how much I hate it
Weighed against the consequences,
Can’t live without it so it’s senseless
Want to cut out of my soul and just live with a gaping hole,
Take control of my life and wash out all the burned tastes,
—I made the problems in the first place
Hang my head low ‘cause it’s a part of me,
You’ll hardly see right next to the heart of me
Heard of me? The routine scar? New cuts cover where the old ones are
And now I’m sick of this, I can’t stand the sandpaper thoughts
That grate on my sanity
I’d rather not even be, then, the man that’s staring
In the mirror through me.

Cut myself free, willingly stop just what’s killing me…

I feel it everyday, I feel I’m in my way,
I feel it swell up inside, swell up inside, swallowing me.

(Freedom can be frightening if you’ve never felt it)
Once it’s been dealt with, you feel
Like you’ve been touched by something angelic
And then melted down into a pool of peace,
Cease to be the animal you used to be
Remove the broken parts you know were wrong,
And then feel the calm when the problem’s all gone…
And then you start to see…a little piece of yourself that you can’t let be
Memories of the last fight to free yourself
Take you to the bottom of the depths of the well,
And now, you know
That you can choose to lose
The part in your heart where your insides bruise:
You can live, if you’re willing to put a stop to just what’s killing you.

Alive in me, inside of me, a part of me screams violently, silently,
Alive in me, inside of me, a part of me screams desperately, silently…
This part of me won’t go away…part of me won’t go away…

Everywhere I look around, I see how everything ought to be
And every time I see myself, there’s always something wrong with me.

I wanted to be born again. But with each loss I suffered—losing to the Dark One and his Hauntings, losing to my darkness—my desire became more and more like a desperate wish on a star that’s beginning to blink out in the black night. It became more and more like a bewildered man’s cry for help in the middle of the ocean, where there’s no one to hear him.

For a little more than three years, I was locked in a desperate struggle between good and evil, light and darkness—all within the chambers of my heart. And I was fourteen…then fifteen, and then sixteen…and now this year I am seventeen years old.

Overture

This blog is where I record my thoughts and experiences that are of a spiritual nature, and that I feel comfortable sharing with the world. A place where spiritual light can be recieved, given that soil of the heart is fertile.

The reason behind the title of the blog, "The Rainmaker Confessions", comes from a meaning of the word confession, which is defined according to the Encarta World English Dictionary as "an open acknowledgment of feelings; a profession of emotions or beliefs such as love, loyalty, or faith; a declaration of beliefs or doctrines." The word rainmaker traditionally is related to someone in business who can "bring home the bacon", so to speak, but in a broader sense it means to cause outstanding results or events to occur for the common good of a group or people. I'd like to be a rainmaker for the children of God. That's my greatest dream; to be a rainmaker among mankind, working for God .

Specifically, this confessional is going to be about things I have been taught. This blog is:

-About the greatest miracle of all time
-A testament of truth
-A rain cloud of nourishment in this darkened world

...and because I have been given much, I too must give.


Whatever you take away from these confessions, may it be a gentle, nourishing, evening rain in your heart.