I was born in Satu Mare, Romania, an Eastern European Country. I took my first breath on January 3rd, 1981. As a new born I was very sick, I had many problems and I should have died. My parents being Pentecostal
Christians held prayer at the house, my father was a Pastor at the church. So I was brought up in a religious family. I guess their prayers worked 'cause I survived, even though I often wish I hadn't. They told me my father used to take me to the hospital in the winter time, on his motorcycle ['cause he didn't have a car] and I survived all that? Not only the illness but the freezing winter cold?
I was able to speak and walk at nine months. My father bought me this ball, and I wanted it, but at the time I was only able to crawl, not walk, but he did this clever thing of not bringing it to me [I was standing up holding on to something, but was scared to walk without holding on to anything lest I should fall] but he kept saying "vino, vino" [come, come] and I guess I really wanted that ball 'cause I let go of whatever I was holding on to and rushed on two legs towards that ball.
Years later, when I was around 5-6 yrs of age, I was nearly kidnapped by some childnappers in a van, luckily my older bro was able to convince me not to accept their candy, and not to listen to them, but run. So I was spared.
Anyways, the point of my early childhood was to tell you how merciful God was on me, eighter that or dumb luck. You decide. And also, that I was a pretty smart kid.
U.S.A.My father, his brother, and some other people from our town fled towards America. At that time Romania was under communist rule {Ceauşescu was in power} and you couldn't just cross the border, or just go to America 'cause you wanted to. So my father and them fled illegally, they had a rough time getting here, even doing jail time and all of that. So since my father finally made it in the U.S. and I knew that we {the family} we're going to go there soon too, I refused to go to school, and when I did go I refued to participate in any of the activities. I told the professor [In Romania they're called professors, not teachers] that I was going to America to see my daddy [in Romanian of course] and he basically shut up.
We finally were allowed to come to the U.S. after two years of waiting and getting the typical communist BS. We arrived in 1988 and basically the point of me telling you this is to let you know how easy I had it compared to what my father went through to get us here. He even threatened [and yes he was a pastor, and was offered a position at the church which helped get us here, but he refused, in order to work] to blow up the INS.
My father finally found a house [we where living in rent at the time] which was affordable enough, but the problem with that was, it was in the southside of Chicago, away from the Romanian community in the northside. And that's where I was eventually introduced to smoking, alcohol, drugs, gangs, violence, crime etc...
I had my first cigarette at about the age of 10 or 11. Pretty soon it was beer and marijuana [which I never really liked] but since my [new American] friends were doing it, so did I. I used to sneak out of the house at night to go and do things I shouldn't be doing, sometimes even on weekdays. Pretty soon I started ditching school to go get drunk, or high or both. or just to avoid school, since I didn't like it very much. Which was a shame 'cause all my teachers told me that I was smart and that I could make something of myself.
After a few years of living there, we had sold that house and bought another one in a better neighborhood, but I also brought along all my bad habits and influences. Not long after I eventually started running with a gang and I [in my stupidity] wanted in. I thought it was "cool" and this would help me get "chics" and you know, all the desires of a 14 yr old's heart. I was in and out of the police station so much that the cops knew me by name. Curfew, underage drinking, stealing bikes, fighting, graffiti, you name it. And, even though we moved so far away, we were still attending church on sunday [about a 45 min drive]. But it was pointless, I didn't believe in God, nor did I want to stop doing what I was doing.
So after a long period of substance abuse, not to mention fornication, and all of the filth that comes with it. Not to mention, losing friend's [or people I thought where my friends] and after a period of loneliness, regret, mental anguish, betrayals and suicidal tendencies which lasted for years Finally, when I was about 22 /23 yrs old, I finally
Gave my life to the Lord. There was some Romanian Youth Convention at one of the Romanian Pentecostal Churches and I was invited by my younger sister and cousins to go, and I agreed to go. In my mind I figured "we'll there'll be girls there".
At the end of the show, after all the music, was over, and after the pastor's preaching was done, he was calling up people to come to the front, and accept Jesus as their Lord And Savior. I honestly felt drawn to go, and so I went, and there were atleast 30 other young boys and girls who also came and I was on my kness, repenting and
asking for forgiveness and to be cleansed in The Blood Of The Lamb. I honestly felt at peace afterwards, like I was high, but this time without any drugs, and it was a much better high than I've ever had before. I started attending church regularly and people who knew me were shocked that I came to church after many years [ I told my parent's at 16/17 I didn't believe in their God and I will no longer go to church] of ceasing to attend. I was hungry for God's word, and I was on my way to being baptized. But soon, that hunger [for God] and that desire to know God and to be obedient started wearing off, slowly but surely. Also the hypocrisy, and the judgemental
attitudes of so called 'christians' that were supposed to be 'followers of Christ' also helped in making me have second thoughts about everything.
I started smoking, and drinking again.... and soon, drugs. It was a slippery slope. I started thinking about all the times that I should have died, and yet, somehow, by some miracle, I was spared. I remembered the time when I was still running with the gang, and I was a passenger in a stolen vehicle [one of my friends stole it] and I was also on drugs and alcohol, and I can't remember how I ended up driving it [I was only 14/15 at the time, I didn't even really know how to drive a car yet] but I must have blown a red light, 'cause I remember hitting another car [or more] and rolling over. I was upside down, I crawled out the window and took off. Not only did I escape from the law [I would have been locked up for that] but I got out without a scratch. And of course I wasn't wearing a seatbelt, while the car was rolling over, I held on to the stearing wheel. Another time, I was in a car with my friends [a male and female] and she started arguing with him and she eventually decided to 'walk home' but this was far from our neighborhood and also a ghetto neighborhood. Me fearing of what may happen to her, got out too and decided that I'll walk with her to protect her {bad move} not long after these two big black males approach us as we were walking down the sidewalk on a busy street, and that
's when I knew we were dead. They're going to kill me, and rape her, I thought. But then wouldn't you know it, out of nowhere, this white man pulls up, in his car, and offers to give us a ride, we both hurry in and he takes off. There's no doubt in my mind that he saved our lives. Dumb luck, or Devine Intervention? You decide.
I was still attending church, and praying quite often, but it just wasn't the same. That feeling, that peace that I felt when I first repented, and accepted Jesus as my Savior was gone. And the whole "Hell" doctrine troubled me. I thought it not fair, I started asking questions like "what about those who never heard?. How's it fair to them that they never even got the chance to accept Jesus as their Savior?"
I Googled the word "Hell" and up pops bible-truths.com.... I saw a heading that read: " Christianity's Hell does not exist, and you can prove it" or something like that. I started reading it, I believe it was the letter to Hagee, and I was familiar with Hagee so I thought it interesting. I couldn't believe what was before my eyes "you mean hell
should really be translated grave?"
What a Revelation! I must tell everyone about this! Bad idea, no one believed me, my father just got angry with me, and it basically just caused strife. But I belived it, I saw that Scripturally there really is no hell, and that words like 'forever and ever, eternal, everlasting' are UnScriptural. I couldn't dey it, there really is no hell. I stopped going to church, I was glad that I never got wet, er cough baptized, cough, cough.
I learned that all physical rituals are carnal, and are useless. Just like physical circumsicion. And yet again, I started being hungry for God's Word and I tried by best to do good, but yet I failed. So here I am, flawed and still learning, and while I believe in God, and that all will be saved, I still struggle with the flesh, and I still struggle with my past. Things that are not included in this testimony here. And like I said before: "There's this tug of war going on inside my mind"
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, right?
So this is my journey through this thing called LIFE. I only hope that the future will be much brighter than the past.
Sorin.
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Topic: My Journey. (Read 8806 times)