Viewing 1 - 9 out of 10 Blogs.

Page:  1 | 2 | Next >  Last >>

Hell's Angel to Heaven's Saint The Testimony of Barry Mayson
Called Home to be with the Lord July 4, 2007
(Heaven's Saints Founder and Evangelist
"I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race.
I have kept the faith." 2 Timothy 4:7

The only way out was death! That was the rule of the organization- The Hell’s Angels, probably the most feared and notorious motorcycle gangs in the country. They were out to get Barry-Barry. He had not been willing to carry out their orders and by their unwritten code he must die! The resturant was surrounded by rough-looking dudes waiting on Barry-Barry to come out. He knew that he might die- the Hell’s Angels didn’t play around. In fact, the very reason for his being on the West-Coast was to attend the funeral of one of the “brother angels” who had been shot in the back three times. This was also to be Barry-Barry’s proving time.

Although he had lived through the prospecting year- a period of trial association with the Hell’s Angels- and although he had worn the Hell’s Angels jacket, he still had to pass the their final test. Barry was given the orders to eliminate several members of a rival club back on the East Coast. The year of trial, a jacket with Hell’s Angels on it, and a lot of rough times had not comepletely hardened Barry-Barry. On the surface he was “tough” one to be feared. But inside a raging war was taking place. (Ephesians 6:12 “ For our struggle is not against flesh and blood but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in heavenly realms.”) How many times had he struggled just to keep up with terrorizing activites of the club. What an effect it had taken not to show any sign of weakness. There was a storm raging on the outside- but a veritable war on the inside. How did Barry-Barry get into this mess? What had led him to this place 4,000 miles from home- a point of being filled with fear, knowing that a certain death waited just outside the door?

Charles Barry Mayson’s early childhood was fairly normal, similar to that of thousands of other boys accross the United States. He lived in a good home and was taught right from wrong. His childhood activities included attending a baptist church with his parents. Like many others at the young and tender age of nine, Barry made a profession of faith in Jesus, and was baptised in water. Barry did not, however, experience the reality of Jesus. Everything sailed along smoothly until I was sixteen, and then my world came apart.

My stepfather, who was a real father to me, caught Malaria. He was a pilot for Pan American Airlines and was in England when the illness struck. The doctors notified my family that he was in a coma and that his kidneys had ceased to function. The only prognosis for Ben Mayson was death. It was easy to fall back to earlier experiences. In my need and desperiation, I petitioned God for help. I asked God to spare my fathers life, but one week later he died! Deep down I knew that I had no faith, that God had not really heard my prayer. (Psalms 66:18 “If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me: Isaiah 59:2 “But your iniquities have seperated between you and your God, cursing him, denouncing the whole idea— even to saying that there was no God. (Proverbs 28:14 “Happy is the man that feareth always; but he that hardeneth his heart shall fall into mischief.”)

The rest of my time in highschool was filled with turmoil. My grades dropped, I started drinking and getting into trouble. I resented authority, especially that of my mother and including that of my teachers as well. I cheated my way through highschool, graduating with others who had earned their diplomas. Somehow I managed to be accepted to a small Baptist College in the mountains of Georgia.
I was going there at my mother’s insistence— all I had in mind was having a good time. Eventually I was thrown out for bad behacior. I turned to the Army next, but it turned out to be a bummer because I still had a problem with authority. “Freedom”— the idea began to take root in my mind, until it became an obsession with me. After leaving the Army, I had moved to Atlanta, Georgia, and I was working at the Ford plant there.

At this time, I hit upon a way to ensure my freedom. I bought a motorcycle and learned to ride it, and ended up riding in a small club called the “Rising Suns” which soon became the main interest in my life. Lacking any restraint at all, my new freedom soon led to parties, fights, crime and drugs. Eventually the police busted up our club and I fled town to keep from going to jail. At 26 years of age I settled in Charleston, South Carolina, working in night clubs, gambling, and continuing in my sinful ways. Soon I began to ride with another motorcycle club, the Tribulators. With this group, I became known as Barry- Barry and seemed to have all the things
I wanted—my own way, freedom and popularity.

Unknown to me, God was still working. I had renounced him, but he had not renounced me. It took a series of events for Him to get my attention. In 1973 I came in contact with the Hell’s Angelsand eventually became a memberon the East Coast. The activities that followed kept me on guard all the time. There were continuous wars. Everything was well organized and secret, but I knew people were getting killed, not who or why but that it was happening. A brother “Angel” was shot and killed in San Diego and the events that took place there changed my life.

I remember the day of October 27, 1976, very well. The Hell’s Angels on the West Coast had given me orders to eliminate several members of a rival club on the East Coast. Although I had been participating in terrosist-type activites for a year, needless killing just wasn’t my bag, and the ones that had been given me the orders could sense that . . . . I had been followed and finally I went into the restaurant, knowing that it represented temporary safety. I knew that if I walked out the door, certain death waited.

I called home, 4,000 miles away. My wife, Gypsey, was staying at my mothers house. On the phone I told them I was about to be killed, and then I started repenting for the bad life that I had lived. I told Gypsey that I was sorry for the way that I had treated her. All this time, my mother was on the phone too, and soon she began to tell me just what I needed to hear at that moment. She said, “Jesus died for your sins 2000 years ago so that you could have ‘eternal life’ (John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotton Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”)

I thought that I had done too many bad things that Jesus would have nothing to do with me. I had been on the phone for a long time (the call lasted three hours). In a restaurant, 4,000 miles from the only love I knew, I felt fear, loneliness, and emptiness. I stood there on the phone listening to my mother tell me of Jesus’ love and forgiveness. (Romans 8:32). She also told me of his ability to protect and keep and promised me that He would help me out of the situation, if I would accept Him into my life(John10:27-30) “My sheep hear my voice and I know them, and they shall follow me”: 28: “And I give unto themeternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my fathers hand.” 30: “I and my Father are one") Hot tears began to stream down my face, and right there in the restaurant, I prayed the sinners prayer(Romans 10:9) "That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesu, and believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.")

New hope new joy, and healing power swept over me as Jesus gloriously made me a new creature. I literally felt the arms of Jesus being wrapped around me and holding me. I knew that then I, Barry Mayson, and my wife, Fran were born in the kingdom of Gods (II Corinthians 5:17 "Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature; old thing are passed away; behold, all things are become new.") God is faithful and true and He did deliver me from the hane of the enemy that day.

And I came to the relization that the Hell's Angels were not my enemy. My enemy was Satan and the powers of darkness (John 10:10 "The theif (Satan) comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I (Jesus) have come that you may have life and have it to the fullness.")Right now!! Through more miracle circumstances, I was able to escape the death blow of the Hell's Angels and return to South Carolina to my family.

EPILOGUE: I have surrendered my life to Jesus and I trust him to complete the good work that he has started in my life. I have my wife Fran, two sons and a daughter with me, and as I think about God's goodness and love, I know that we are growing together in him.

Had a small wreck this morning and now I am looking for a radiator for a 1997 Valkyrie 1520 cc if anyone knows where I might pick up a used one Please contact me at hsbikers@peoplepc.com

No one was hurt just my bike Praise God

A Physician Testifies About the Crucifixion

by Dr. C. Truman Davis

About a decade ago, reading Jim Bishop's The Day Christ Died, I realized that I had for years taken the Crucifixion more or less for granted -- that I had grown callous to its horror by a too easy familiarity with the grim details and a too distant friendship with our Lord. It finally occurred to me that, though a physician, I didn't even know the actual immediate cause of death. The Gospel writers don't help us much on this point, because crucifixion and scourging were so common during their lifetime that they apparently considered a detailed description unnecessary. So we have only the concise words of the Evangelists: "Pilate, having scourged Jesus, delivered Him to them to be crucified -- and they crucified Him."

I have no competence to discuss the infinite psychic and spiritual suffering of the Incarnate God atoning for the sins of fallen man. But it seemed to me that as a physician I might pursue the physiological and anatomical aspects of our Lord's passonate some detail. What did the body of Jesus of Nazareth actually endure during those hours of torture?

This led me first to a study of the practice of crucifixion itself; that is, torture and execution by fixation to a cross. I am indebted to many who have studied this subject in the past, and especially to a contemporary colleague, Dr. Pierre Barbet, a French surgeon who has done exhaustive historical and experimental research and has written extensively on the subject.

Apparently, the first known practice of crucifixion was by the Persians. Alexander and his generals brought it back to the Mediterranean world -- to Egypt and to Carthage. The Romans apparently learned the practice from the Carthaginians and (as with almost everything the Romans did) rapidly developed a very high degree of efficiency and skill at it. A number of Roman authors (Livy, Cicer, Tacitus) comment on crucifixion, and several innovations, modifications, and variations are described in the ancient literature.

For instance, the upright portion of the cross (or stipes) could have the cross-arm (or patibulum) attached two or three feet below its top in what we commonly think of as the Latin cross. The most common form used in our Lord's day, however, was the Tau cross, shaped like our T. In this cross the patibulum was placed in a notch at the top of the stipes. There is archeological evidence that it was on this type of cross that Jesus was crucified.

Without any historical or biblical proof, Medieval and Renaissance painters have given us our picture of Christ carrying the entire cross. But the upright post, or stipes, was generally fixed permanently in the ground at the site of execution and the condemned man was forced to carry the patibulum, weighing about 110 pounds, from the prison to the place of execution.

Many of the painters and most of the sculptors of crucifixion, also show the nails through the palms. Historical Roman accounts and experimental work have established that the nails were driven between the small bones of the wrists (radial and ulna) and not through the palms. Nails driven through the palms will strip out between the fingers when made to support the weight of the human body. The misconception may have come about through a misunderstanding of Jesus' words to Thomas, "Observe my hands." Anatomists, both modern and ancient, have always considered the wrist as part of the hand.

A titulus, or small sign, stating the victim's crime was usually placed on a staff, carried at the front of the procession from the prison, and later nailed to the cross so that it extended above the head. This sign with its staff nailed to the top of the cross would have given it somewhat the characteristic form of the Latin cross.

But, of course, the physical passion of the Christ began in Gethsemane. Of the many aspects of this initial suffering, the one of greatest physiological interest is the bloody sweat. It is interesting that St. Luke, the physician, is the only one to mention this. He says, "And being in Agony, He prayed the longer. And His sweat became as drops of blood, trickling down upon the ground."

Every ruse (trick) imaginable has been used by modern scholars to explain away this description, apparently under the mistaken impression that this just doesn't happen. A great deal of effort could have been saved had the doubters consulted the medical literature. Though very rare, the phenomenon of Hematidrosis, or bloody sweat, is well documented. Under great emotional stress of the kind our Lord suffered, tiny capillaries in the sweat glands can break, thus mixing blood with sweat. This process might well have produced marked weakness and possible shock.

After the arrest in the middle of the night, Jesus was next brought before the Sanhedrin and Caiphus, the High Priest; it is here that the first physical trauma was inflicted. A soldier struck Jesus across the face for remaining silent when questioned by Caiphus. The palace guards then blind-folded Him and mockingly taunted Him to identify them as they each passed by, spat upon Him, and struck Him in the face.

In the early morning, battered and bruised, dehydrated, and exhausted from a sleepless night, Jesus is taken across the Praetorium of the Fortress Antonia, the seat of government of the Procurator of Judea, Pontius Pilate. You are, of course, familiar with Pilate's action in attempting to pass responsibility to Herod Antipas, the Tetrarch of Judea. Jesus apparently suffered no physical mistreatment at the hands of Herod and was returned to Pilate. It was in response to the cries of the mob, that Pilate ordered Bar-Abbas released and condemned Jesus to scourging and crucifixion.

There is much disagreement among authorities about the unusual scourging as a prelude to crucifixion. Most Roman writers from this period do not associate the two. Many scholars believe that Pilate originally ordered Jesus scourged as his full punishment and that the death sentence by crucifixion came only in response to the taunt by the mob that the Procurator was not properly defending Caesar against this pretender who allegedly claimed to be the King of the Jews.

Preparations for the scourging were carried out when the Prisoner was stripped of His clothing and His hands tied to a post above His head. It is doubtful the Romans would have made any attempt to follow the Jewish law in this matter, but the Jews had an ancient law prohibiting more than forty lashes.

The Roman legionnaire steps forward with the flagrum (or flagellum) in his hand. This is a short whip consisting of several heavy, leather thongs with two small balls of lead attached near the ends of each. The heavy whip is brought down with full force again and again across Jesus' shoulders, back, and legs. At first the thongs cut through the skin only. Then, as the blows continue, they cut deeper into the subcutaneous tissues, producing first an oozing of blood from the capillaries and veins of the skin, and finally spurting arterial bleeding from vessels in the underlying muscles.

The small balls of lead first produce large, deep bruises which are broken open by subsequent blows. Finally the skin of the back is hanging in long ribbons and the entire area is an unrecognizable mass of torn, bleeding tissue. When it is determined by the centurion in charge that the prisoner is near death, the beating is finally stopped.

The half-fainting Jesus is then untied and allowed to slump to the stone pavement, wet with His own blood. The Roman soldiers see a great joke in this provincial Jew claiming to be king. They throw a robe across His shoulders and place a stick in His hand for a scepter. They still need a crown to make their travesty complete. Flexible branches covered with long thorns (commonly used in bundles for firewood) are plaited into the shape of a crown and this is pressed into His scalp. Again there is copious bleeding, the scalp being one of the most vascular areas of the body.

After mocking Him and striking Him across the face, the soldiers take the stick from His hand and strike Him across the head, driving the thorns deeper into His scalp. Finally, they tire of their sadistic sport and the robe is torn from His back. Already having adhered to the clots of blood and serum in the wounds, its removal causes excruciating pain just as in the careless removal of a surgical bandage, and almost as though He were again being whipped the wounds once more begin to bleed.

In deference to Jewish custom, the Romans return His garments. The heavy patibulum of the cross is tied across His shoulders, and the procession of the condemned Christ, two thieves, and the execution detail of Roman soldiers headed by a centurion begins its slow journey along the Via Dolorosa. In spite of His efforts to walk erect, the weight of the heavy wooden beam, together with the shock produced by copious blood loss, is too much. He stumbles and falls. The rough wood of the beam gouges into the lacerated skin and muscles of the shoulders. He tries to rise, but human muscles have been pushed beyond their endurance.

The centurion, anxious to get on with the crucifixion, selects a stalwart North African onlooker, Simon of Cyrene, to carry the cross. Jesus follows, still bleeding and sweating the cold, clammy sweat of shock, until the 650 yard journey from the fortress Antonia to Golgotha is finally completed.

Jesus is offered wine mixed with myrrh, a mild analgesic mixture. He refuses to drink. Simon is ordered to place the patibulum on the ground and Jesus quickly thrown backward with His shoulders against the wood. The legionnaire feels for the depression at the front of the wrist. He drives a heavy, square, wrought-iron nail through the wrist and deep into the wood. Quickly, he moves to the other side and repeats the action being careful not to pull the arms to tightly, but to allow some flexion and movement. The patibulum is then lifted in place at the top of the stipes and the titulus reading "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews" is nailed in place.

The left foot is now pressed backward against the right foot, and with both feet extended, toes down, a nail is driven through the arch of each, leaving the knees moderately flexed. The Victim is now crucified. As He slowly sags down with more weight on the nails in the wrists excruciating pain shoots along the fingers and up the arms to explode in the brain -- the nails in the writs are putting pressure on the median nerves. As He pushes Himself upward to avoid this stretching torment, He places His full weight on the nail through His feet. Again there is the searing agony of the nail tearing through the nerves between the metatarsal bones of the feet.

At this point, as the arms fatigue, great waves of cramps sweep over the muscles, knotting them in deep, relentless, throbbing pain. With these cramps comes the inability to push Himself upward. Hanging by his arms, the pectoral muscles are paralyzed and the intercostal muscles are unable to act. Air can be drawn into the lungs, but cannot be exhaled. Jesus fights to raise Himself in order to get even one short breath. Finally, carbon dioxide builds up in the lungs and in the blood stream and the cramps partially subside. Spasmodically, he is able to push Himself upward to exhale and bring in the life-giving oxygen. It was undoubtedly during these periods that He uttered the seven short sentences recorded:

The first, looking down at the Roman soldiers throwing dice for His seamless garment, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."

The second, to the penitent thief, "Today thou shalt be with me in Paradise."

The third, looking down at the terrified, grief-stricken adolescent John -- the beloved Apostle -- he said, "Behold thy mother." Then, looking to His mother Mary, "Woman behold thy son."

The fourth cry is from the beginning of the 22nd Psalm, "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?"

Hours of limitless pain, cycles of twisting, joint-rending cramps, intermittent partial asphyxiation, searing pain where tissue is torn from His lacerated back as He moves up and down against the rough timber. Then another agony begins...A terrible crushing pain deep in the chest as the pericardium slowly fills with serum and begins to compress the heart.

One remembers again the 22nd Psalm, the 14th verse: "I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels."

It is now almost over. The loss of tissue fluids has reached a critical level; the compressed heart is struggling to pump heavy, thick, sluggish blood into the tissue; the tortured lungs are making a frantic effort to gasp in small gulps of air. The markedly dehydrated tissues send their flood of stimuli to the brain.

Jesus gasps His fifth cry, "I thirst."

One remembers another verse from the prophetic 22nd Psalm: "My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and thou has brought me into the dust of death."

A sponge soaked in posca, the cheap, sour wine which is the staple drink of the Roman legionaries, is lifted to His lips. He apparently doesn't take any of the liquid. The body of Jesus is now in extremes, and He can feel the chill of death creeping through His tissues. This realization brings out His sixth words, possibly little more than a tortured whisper, "It is finished."

His mission of atonement has completed. Finally He can allow his body to die.

With one last surge of strength, he once again presses His torn feet against the nail, straightens His legs, takes a deeper breath, and utters His seventh and last cry, "Father! Into thy hands I commit my spirit."

The rest you know. In order that the Sabbath not be profaned, the Jews asked that the condemned men be dispatched and removed from the crosses. The common method of ending a crucifixion was by crurifracture, the breaking of the bones of the legs. This prevented the victim from pushing himself upward; thus the tension could not be relieved from the muscles of the chest and rapid suffocation occurred. The legs of the two thieves were broken, but when the soldiers came to Jesus they saw that this was unnecessary.

Apparently to make doubly sure of death, the legionnaire drove his lance through the fifth interspace between the ribs, upward through the pericardium and into the heart. The 34th verse of the 19th chapter of the Gospel according to St. John reports: "And immediately there came out blood and water." That is, there was an escape of water fluid from the sac surrounding the heart, giving postmortem evidence that Our Lord died not the usual crucifixion death by suffocation, but of heart failure (a broken heart) due to shock and constriction of the heart by fluid in the pericardium.

Thus we have had our glimpse -- including the medical evidence -- of that epitome of evil which man has exhibited toward Man and toward God. It has been a terrible sight, and more than enough to leave us despondent and depressed. How grateful we can be that we have the great sequel in the infinite mercy of God toward man -- at once the miracle of the atonement (at one ment) and the expectation of the triumphant Easter morning.

---

Dr. C. Truman Davis is a nationally respected Opthalmologist, vice president of the American Association of Ophthalmology, and an active figure in the Christian schools movement. He is founder and president of the excellent Trinity Christian School in Mesa Arizona, and a trustee of Grove City College.

Third Annual

BIKER SUNDAY

Springhill Emmanuel Holiness Church

HWY 167 north, between Enterprise Al. and Troy Al.

Sponsored by Enterprise Chapter Heaven’s Saints MM

Date : May 25, 2008

Pastor Robert (BOB) Johnson of the Heaven’s Saints Motorcycle Ministry North West Fl. Chapter will bring the word.

There will be Spaghetti Dinner served after the service.

Cost: $6.00 Per plate. All proceeds will go to the Church

Biker ride in : we will meet at the Wal-Mart in Enterprise at 9:45 AM

We will leave for the Church at 10:15 Am, it’s about a 25 min. ride

For more info. Contact Robert Happoldt at hsbikers@peoplepc.com

or 334-347-44589 or cell # 334-806-4258 Please let us know if you plan to attend.

 

Come join us for a day of Worship and Fellowship

SEE YOU THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Please check out this website, God Bless you and thanks www.colorsforthecross.com

A true message if I ever heard one....take time to read to the very end....it'll shake some of us back to reality..... Good for Nothing Christianity Coach Dave Daubenmire Saturday, May 06, 2006 Matthew 5:13 Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men. Better warn you up-front. This is not for the easily offended. If you are looking to "feel good" you'd be better off reading something from Rick Warren or Joel Osteen. And please don't send me any emails telling me how mean-spirited I am, that I need more love, or that I need to meet Jesus. If that is your inclination, do us both a favor. Stop reading right now. There. You've been warned. To steal a phrase from a popular radio-host, I need some duct tape. I really don't know how more of this I can take. "Waah! Waah! Waah! Make them stop saying such bad things about Christianity." That is what I am hearing from the big-time Christian pundits. "Boycott the advertisers. Write the networks. Call your congressman. Waaaah!" First it was the hub-bub a few years ago about Andres Seranno's "Piss Christ". You remember that, don't you? The picture of a crucifix of Christ submerged in a bottle of urine, funded by your tax-dollars through the National Endowment for the Arts. Next was the great piece of work by Nikos Kazantkazis, The Last Temptation of Christ, which Martin Scorsese turned into a movie, an depicted a married Jesus getting it on with his wife Mary Magdalene. Recently, we have weathered The Book of Daniel, an NBC Mini-series depicting Christians as hypocritical and unbalanced. And now, The DaVinci Code, which many Christian pundits claim, questions the deity of Christ. Millions of the books have been sold, and a feature movie has just been released. "Waaaaah! Make them stop being mean!" A few months ago, the world almost erupted into war over the unflattering depiction of Mohammed in a series of cartoons. The Muslims took to the streets. The defended their god. They threatened violence, even death to those who published the pictures. I don't approve of their tactics, but I respect their indignation. Major media blinked, newspapers and magazines refused to show the pictures, instead they wrote about the need to be "sensitive" to the Muslims concerns. The reaction of the leaders of the two religions has been stark. While Christians retreated into their churches and sucked on their thumbs, the Islam leaders spoke out boldly and clearly in defense of their god. The Muslims took to the streets. The Christians depended on Republicans. It is time that modern Christianity asked ourselves some hard questions. Why is it that the American media fears and protects Islam, but knocks itself out throwing mud at Christianity? What has happened in America that the media no longer fears the reaction of the Christian Church? Why do the media view us the way they do? What has happened to the salt? Have we lost our savor? Have we become, as Jesus warned, good for nothing? Good for nothing Christianity
that's what the media sees. They see a Church that no longer fears God, so they no longer fear the church. Can you imagine the reaction if someone had dared submerge the Muslim prophet in a jar of urine? Cities would still be burning. Which commands more respect, a snarling bulldog, or lazy old basset hound? Let's face it. Most of the unsaved-world sees us as weak, in-effective, money-grubbing, hypocrites. Might as well face facts, we're void of savor, and trodden under by man. Perception is reality. A wise man once said "Your actions speak so loud I can't hear what you are saying." Instead of being mad at the Christian bashers, perhaps we should start with the man in the mirror. Why is Christianity so mocked? May I offer a few snapshots, a series of pictures stuck in the minds of those who don't understand us? We fight amongst ourselves. Pastors don't work together, denominations think they have a corner on Truth, and we can't agree on what the Bible says. A house divided against itself cannot stand. We strive for the things of this world. While we watch millions of the poor languish in the depravity, we've turned their care over to the government, while our churches and church leaders build opulent ministries, including basketball stadiums, oblivious to the condition of those around us. While the Islamofacists willingly lose their lives for their god, Christians aren't willing to lose their "stuff" for theirs. We ignore the speck in our own eye. Fighting to "defend" marriage from the gays, we look the other way at the mess Christian heterosexuals have made of "one man-one woman for life." We declare the sanctity of live, yet warehouse our parents in nursing homes. We defend our denominations "theological purity", while we send our children to government schools where they grow in the Devil's theology. We declare we are "one nation under God" but act like he is one god under the nation.. We Defend the un-Godly fruit of Republicanism. More has been done to destroy America under this Republican administration than any president since FDR, all with a wink and nod from our Christian leaders. The defenders of Republicanism chortle "the Democrats are worse", as if the lesser of two evils is somehow honorable. We accept Sin in the Church. We idolize sports, possessions, and our children. We seek "all of these things" more than we "seek first the kingdom". We covet the same things our un-saved neighbors do. We lie and cheat on the job. We dishonor our Lord, the Sabbath, our wedding vows, and our parents. We tithe to the Cable TV company but hoard money from those who do the Lord's work. We have a "form of Godliness, but deny the power thereof." We take the name of the lord in vain by accepting Him as Savior, but not as Lord. The God of self sits on the throne. I could go on, but you get the point. So, what is the image that the church is projecting to our enemies? Do they see a church sold out to the cause of Christ, or a church sold out for the material blessings of Christ? What image do the Sunday morning preachers on your local TV project? A "best-life-now-Jesus-wants-to-bless-you-turn-the-other-cheek-Christian-psyc hology" kind of Gospel? Or a "fall-on-your-knees-repent-of-your-wicked-ways-be-ye-holy-judgement-begins- in-the-house-of-God" kind of Christianity? Who do the media think is more committed to their faith? Muslims who pray five times a day as they fall prostrate before Allah, or Christians who pray on the way to their Sunday morning little league baseball game? Those who will strap a bomb to their body to die for their god or those who retreat into the safety of the church to be hidden by theirs? I am always struck by something that David said before he dropped Goliath in his tracks. I Samuel 17:26b "For who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?" David wasn't upset that they were defying God; he knew God could take care of Himself. David was concerned with the "armies of God", that they would allow their God to be spoken of in such a way. To put David's statement into modern language, "Ain't anybody gonna stick up for Him?" If the church won't call evil, evil. If the church won't rebuke the wicked. If the church won't stand for Christ, how can we expect the world to fear our God? If the church won't clean up its own mess, how can we demand others clean up theirs? If the armies of God won't stand up to the giants of the day, why should they respect us? Psalm 94:16 Who will rise up for me against the evildoers? or who will stand up for me against the workers of iniquity? One final question. If you weren't already a Christian, what is it about modern Christianity that would make you want to be one? Good for nothing Christianity, that's what the world sees. Salt without savor, easily trod upon. Oh, Christ is so much greater than we have allowed Him to be! Waaaaah! This article can be located online at: http://minutemenunited.org/modules.php?name=Commentary&file=article&cid=44

My name is Alicia Happoldt; I am the wife of Robert Happoldt, who used to be a notorious drug dealer known as "Roger Rabbit."

I hope you will see, through this written word, that God can not only heal and deliver you from your problems, but he can also mend marriages and broken families.

I was molested at the early age of four and two other men would have their way with me before I reached the age of seventeen.

One of these men not only molested me but he introduced me to drugs and alcohol at the young age of thirteen. I did manage to graduate high school but not without being kicked out of school several times for drugs and alcohol abuse. Drugs and alcohol would control my life for the next thirty years.

I eventually found a man who would have me so we got married and had two beautiful daughters. But, because of drugs, Satan wrecked this marriage and I lost it all, even custody of my girls.

Shortly afterwards, I met Roger Rabbit and it wasn’t long till we were married. It was, however, A MARRIAGE MADE IN HELL! We only stayed together for two reasons, drugs and making money. Wife abuse was part of Roger Rabbit’s daily agenda for my life and I endured it for twelve years.

I tried to get my husband to go away and leave me alone, but he wouldn’t. And each time I got the courage to leave him, he would find me and drag me back home.

Our relationship was spooky. We even joked that the only way we could ever leave one another for good was if one of us was 6 feet under. But I knew in my heart that that was not a joke and I feared for my life for most of the twelve years.

Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any worse I was wrong, we discovered METH. Satan already controlled us, but with Meth his power over us was inconceivable. Nothing was sacred to us anymore, everything was evil. But at the time we both thought we were having the time of our lives.

But God had a plan! "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11) . He used the 12^th Judicial Drug Task Force to set His plan for our lives in motion. They busted both of us for drug trafficking.

However it wasn’t long till we made bail and we were back on the streets living on and making our living from Meth. But that was short-lived and before you know it we had broken bond and were back in the slammer waiting to go to prison for a ten year sentence. We would not be eligible for parole for three years.

God began dealing with me on my very first night in jail, and on March 9, 2002 I woke up and decided that I was through letting the devil control my life. I bowed my head, raised my arms and told the Lord I was done. I told Him I’d had enough of doing it my way and that He could have all that was left of me. I was His, to do with me as He pleased. I have lived for Him ever since!

I’ll admit there have been some rough roads, but, Jesus said serving Him would not be easy, but it would be worth it. Prison particularly wasn’t easy but He carried me thru it.

Jesus totally delivered me from drugs and alcohol. He kept me from committing suicide and healed my marriage. I am now closer to my daughters and my parents than I have ever been.

Oh, by the way, God saved my husband, too! And now, the marriage that was made in Hell is a marriage made in Heaven!

We both ride with Heaven’s Saints Motorcycle Ministry and give our testimonies in jails, churches, and anywhere else we’re asked to.

The Lord has blessed me with everything the devil has stolen and we no longer depend on Satan’s temporal pleasures to see us through each day. We now rely on Jesus for everything. With Jesus, life is wonderful and I can’t imagine living a day without Him in it.

I have forgiven the three men who molested me and God has healed me from the hurt and shame of those experiences.

Yes I’ve been tempted by drugs since I was released from prison, but there is no way I would disappoint my Lord or my family by giving in to them again.

I am thankful for my victories over these temptations because it confirms in my heart that I am totally set free. It also confirms in my heart that my Lord Jesus Christ can and will see me through everything.

I’ve been drug free since 2002 and Christ is now the essence of my being!

 

 

Page:  1 | 2 | Next >  Last >>