My Childhood

The Outset of Life It's odd, that life isn't anything, like one would expect, starting out. Or that things are not what they seem, or should be like.

Honoring My Parents

I felt my parents wanted a better life for me than they had. Instead of ever thinking I knew better than them or boasting that I'd never make the mistakes they did, I tried to become aware of the things that went wrong; so as to try and avoid falling into the same pitfalls. I never assumed that whatever they knew was ancient dinosaur stuff. Instead, I looked up to them for advice & guidance and with admiration & respect. I wanted them to be proud of me. Since a child, I grew up believing to help make the world a better place for all. Such could only be accomplished by doing and giving my very best. Even when I had to go live with my relatives, I never cared to forsake my parents and replace them with others as my parent. I kept loving both my parents, despite they never reunited. I was taught to never hate the other parent despite things didn't work out between them.
I always tried to do the right things in life. Because it mattered to me, to not disappoint both my parents. I even chose to be good and not bad, that I became my own leader instead of following the crowd.

The Bogeyman

When I was about 4 years of age, I had a bedroom all to myself, in the only room there was upstairs. Every night, as I'd go climb in the bed, I'd wait for Dad or Mom to come up and either read me one of those Golden Books or just see if I'm ok, tucking me in and give a good night's kiss. One night, there was this longest pause and a terrible quietness in the air, as none of my parents came up to see me off to sleep. It was like one of those strange or weird episodes of the Twilight Zone or Outer Limits. Suddenly, right out of the blue, someone was standing at the end of my bed. I couldn't make out who it was, as if one of those lights were shining behind object, that causes clearity to be blocked out. But this wasn't the case. I was looking at a dark figure of a man, of which I wasn't certain of who it could be. Whoever it was, didn't say anything for the longest time, as if it were studying me. Then it slowly moved around the right side of my bed, until it reached the top, close to the wall. I finally decided to say something to it so I could know for sure of whom I'm dealing with; I questioned "Dad- is that you?" Then it replied back, saying "Keep thinking that way, because at the age of 16, I'll have your soul." Right after he said that, something struck in my whole being, that pointed out out that, that was something important, I should not forget. After that, I saw him leave, into a vertical, long shadow of the lower left corner wall, of my room. As he started to fade into that big shadow, I saw his eyes light up, with a bright glowing red. Much like those dead pirates in The Fog movie, by John Carpenter. As those gleaming eyes started to dim, they were oddly replaced, with two big white bright spots that pierced the upper part of the shadow and didn't go away or change. Even though they still seemed like eyes, of what I thought to be the Bogeyman, they seem to originate from the bright street lights outside. After what I had just been through, there was no way I'd get up, out of my bed, just to see for sure. It was difficult for me to just relax and try to go to sleep. With that which remained on the corner wall, seemingly staring at me, in a way as if to go undetected by others, all I could do was turn over on my left side and cover my head up; leaving a small opening for to peek and breath. From then on, I'd do that every night, as I figured what I can't see, can't hurt me, I had no low key lamp light on in my room, burning every night and there was no nightlight either, plugged into the wall. The bedroom was dark, with lights from outside coming through.

Satan revealed

By the next morning I told my Parents what happened. My Mom took such seriously enough that I over heard her telling Dad, "He was attacked by Satan." We weren't going to Church at the time, so- I had no idea of who or what Satan was. I felt my Mom knew what she was talking about. While my parents were discussing what happened to me, one of my sisters wasn't convinced that it was what Mom said. That my sister questioned of whether I made it up, like some joke. But I assured her it was real and actually did happen. I certainly wasn't doing it to get some undivided attention either or special favors, as such never crossed my mind. Before night began to fall, I told one of my parents I didn't want to sleep up there or be alone up there anymore. So my Mom had my Dad to keep me company every night, until I was fast asleep. For almost a week, my Dad would sit at the top of the stairs and smoke a cigarette, possibly wondering or pondering to himself of what must of actually happened. It wasn't easy on Dad, since he had to go to work the next day. Mom, had my little brother to attend to downstairs, possibly making sure he wouldn't wander around the house at night, since he didn't know any better.

Scientific approach to the Supernatural

Having to attend to my threatening fears every night and going to work too, the next day, seem to begin to put a strain on my Dad, that caused him to want to get to the bottom of what he thought really must of happened. Or at least, the way it could of. While in the day time, Dad had me go up stairs to try an reach a so called reasonable explaination of what happened. He mentioned about lights must of played tricks from outside. I don't recall if he suggested I might of been dreaming or let my imagination run wild. When I began to try to explain all the details of what actually happened, it was like he had already settled things and wasn't going to spend another night having to go through, watching over me. I was left with no choice, in this kind of abandonment and lack of security, but to go back sleeping alone in my room and remaining ever fearfully aware of what happened before, can happen again.

After having went through such a threatening and really uncomfortable
experience, I can imagine other children going through the same
or similar encounter with Satan. Some parents may not take such
seriously, since they aren't aware of it's reality of actually
occurring. I can only figure that Satan doesn't invade children
or people whose souls he already has, but rather those who are
of some threat to evil agenda. Persons not believing an evil
persona actually existing, like Satan, just works to his
advantage over them.

When I was brought to Christ

Somewhere during the very age of five, while my Dad was working on the exterior of his prized Studabaker car, I started talking to him so much that he had trouble concentrating, without feeling a bit disrupted. Doing outside body work isn't easy. Dad couldn't stop and play ball with me, or spend some time as most parents should. When he told me to go play and stop bothering him; I felt deeply hurt. Feeling disappointedly rejected, I went into the house and told Mom what happened. It's a difficult thing when you're close to your parents and hate to be separated from them. My mother said "You shouldn't want to be like him, anyways." Mom took me into the living room, where a large picture hung on the wall. Seeing a crown on his head, I knew what I must of been seeing is somekind of King or royalty of some sorts. She told me it's Jesus and that He's perfect and never would do no wrong. That He wouldn't disappoint me. Also, pointing out that, "He's the One you should want to become like." Despite the painting rendition was something of Catholics, Mom never felt against them. She liked the painting for reasons that I can't quite recall exactly, but vague in my memory. Probaly because He's King of Kings and above anything of this worldly existence of ours. Even the Creator, Himself of everything. Mom also let me know that, when living for Christ, you can never go wrong. From that time on, I would endeavor to be like Christ, instead of my Dad. Whereas, my little brother decided he'd be like Dad.

Now that I'm older, I am forever grateful to my Mom that she directed me
to Christ. Through the years, I became wise to the things of the
worldly around me. Wanting to become perfect like Christ was
like an ongoing thing, that I never regret. Unfortunately, my
younger brother who wanted to grow up to be like Dad
in a way got his wish.

Taste Of Death and Short Visit To Heaven

During the summer time, my two older sisters, my little brother and I would go to the school, where I'd attend Kindergarten and eventually first grade, when regular school was going on. Being summer vacation, there was all sorts of interesting activities to do then. Once I won a blue-ribbon for trying to sound like Elvis Presley, singing Wooden Heart song, while making my robinhood wooden puppet on some strings, move to it- in probaly a dancing way. Except, one of these summer vacations would be like some turning point in my life. For the unexpected happened, where my one older sister and myself, got caught up into an unfortunate accident. My sister came out of the accident, better than I. For what happen to me was more serious & critical; I could of been left for dead, if the good doctors hadn't started working on me. In the midst of the accident, I seem to have fallen unconscious and found myself ending up in a region of pure darkness. I didn't know where I was and since it was so dark, that I couldn't see my hand before me. I felt no need to start wandering around, where I couldn't see a thing. If I turned to look around me, the same darkness was there. The blackness was so thick, you could cut it with a knife; like some black pudding. Because I could look around without moving my eyes, gave me reason to believe I might of been incorporeal. I couldn't recall who I was, or- what went before. I had no remberance of my parents or brother and sisters. I wasn't afraid and had no imagination. I couldn't concentrate on anything, since pretty much of of what I knew seem to now be a blank. All I knew, was I was there, possibly floating. One could be there for years and never know it. There was nothing to do but wait.

A bright radiant light formed before me. I believe it was the Holy Ghost. This intense white light, drew me out of there somewhat slow. Once inside, I found myself unable to stand up, but crawl my way around. Before me, I saw two giant white pillars, with metallic fire forever burning out of them, at the top. Whatever it was beyond those steps, I couldn't see until I drew closer. If I recall correctly, I think I ended up sitting in the lap of a white haired & bearded Jesus Christ. When I asked him about the world, He said that things would get worse. I questioned if there was anything I could do to turn things around for the better. He said I could try, but added that my efforts alone, would be like a needle in a haystack. When it was time for me to return into this life, the radiant glowing Jesus Christ said, that it wasn't my time yet, even though I wanted to stay.

From Spirit To Mortal Again

When I fell back into my body, I found myself in an ambulance, being rushed to another hospital, who could better help me. As I looked around, I was happy & comforted to see my Grandma right beside me and my Mom somewhere nearby, below. I told them I was like Superman and that I was alright and wanted to go home rather than go through something, I wasn't assure of. Grandma let me know that I wasn't alright or I wouldn't have that white band around my head. After I was taken on a stretcher, in the towering hospital, a doctor came along and took a look at me. Under the ceiling lights, I found I could only open my eyes half way. I was too weak to remain awake.

God Gave Me Gifts

Once I was taken into the operating room, a white thing covered my eyes and most of my face. The next thing I knew, was I started moving off the bed and could finally see the doctors working on me. They didn't see me floating off. Before I knew it, I was up at the ceiling, looking down on myself. Just thinking, If that's me down there, then what am I doing up here?" Then I found myself back in Heaven and wondered if I could stay this time; no such luck. Jesus gave me gifts, that this this time when I went back into my body, I tried very hard to remember it. So when I came to, I wouldn't forget. My Mom and our Pastor was in a nearby room praying for me, which I wasn't aware of. Only the presence of others being nearby, I decided to start saying, "God gave me gifts," three times, so just incase I forget, that someone else would let me know later.

Divine Transition

Being the first night back home, Grandma decided to spend the night, to make sure everything is ok. At bedtime, I noticed my vision seem to be blurry. Grandma tried to assure me that, that would soon go away. Probaly assuming it was the effects of some drug given to me, just to settle me down. The truth is, my partial blurriness never went away, even unto adulthood. Dad felt that every since the accident, I haven't been quite the same. To him, it was like something left me. For he couldn't understand of why the good grades I made before the accident, suddenly stopped. Possibly trying to get some clue as to what went wrong, Dad would come to my school unexpectedly and watch me through the window on door. He would smile and wave his hand at me, whenever I noticed he was there. What all I went through, when it came to the accident, had put me in touch with what really matters most in life, over what is presented as counting. The importance of obeying God and the consequence for not doing so, is real. Evil must be brought into the light, so it'll flee and no longer have the bad effect it has had on the entire world. It is the lessons that Scrooge learns in the Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol story; we are our brothers keeper. Peace on Earth and Goodwill toward all men, must be achieved.

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