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Grab a cup of coffee and dive in. We pray that you find hope and truth in these posts. This blog is written from three perspectives.
His. Hers. Theirs.
His. Hers. Theirs.
In the midst of my comma, I had powerful experiences with my Maker. The following account is one of several moments in Heaven. Many who read the below testimony will be touched - others will reject it in disbelief.
Where am I? Have I died? How am I moving? Where’s my body? Am I a thought? Am I a mind? Am I a Soul?
Suddenly there’s this calmness all around me. Through me. Before me. This is where I now call The Heart Room when I retell this experience. I hear His voice and know…..I bow down. He is my Lord. All I can say is “Hallelujah.” Suddenly, this word means All I ever need to say and want to say. “Arise,” My Lord says. His beauty is un-imaginable. His presence gives me life. The sound of His voice is my heart beat. Our soul in one. Patiently, and out of obedience, I humbly stand before My King. Out of reverence, I don’t speak. The anointing is everywhere. I feel it. I’m rejoicing inside. This is ‘That Moment’…… Christ says “Dad’s not through with you yet. There’s much greater responsibility that hasn't been revealed to you……..” I was so captivated by His presence, I didn’t want to go back. I respond, “I don’t understand?” Christ says, “You have read and heard of great parables of Miracles. Greater Miracles than these you will do. You are God’s Son and I will be with you.”
Suddenly, Christ and I are standing in the midst of a spiritual battle. There is screaming, fighting, and the loud roars of battle. I see demonic beasts, demons, and creatures your mind can’t fathom all around us. I see mighty Angels, mighty Warriors, and heavenly beings at war with the enemy. The battle is violent, forcefully relentless at both ends; back and forth. There is no hesitation on both parts. I stand in the midst of war on our Kingdom. But I am not afraid, because Christ is with me. There are sounds of trumpets and battle cries. I see the demons and they see me. There’s a deep stare, as if we both know we will meet, but I see fear in their eyes. They know and see the power I’ve been given. As Christ and I walk through the battle, they shake and tremble.
I turn to Christ. He smiles and motions for me to look to my left. To my surprise, I see an enormous cage. In it are those hurting, trapped in bondage, enslaved to sin and lies from the enemy. They’re screaming for freedom. I look back to Christ and he nods yes! So I run to them. I look at the cage and see its magnificently heavy chains melted shut to the door. As I begin to think to break those chains free and the door to open - the door opens. The demons quickly look and move closer. I say, “You’re free!!!” A great deal of those inside receive freedom. I look to the others who’ve not received this and shout “Be Free. You are free.” But they hold on to the cage and grasp it even tighter than before. I lift the cage up and I’m now attempting to shake them loose. But this does nothing, they will not let go. I say “You are free!” Once again. One cries out, “I don’t want to go. If they see me, they will come again. I'm safer in the cage.”
I return to Christ. He looks at me and says, “Remember, those that want freedom will experience Freedom. Freedom is given to those who believe and obey. The ones that saw and heard you say “be Free” experienced freedom. Those that stayed believe the lies they are enslaved to. Yes, they saw others be free, but could not believe for themselves. They will never experience the fullness of God unless they believe. Man has been given free will to accept Allthat is good or selfishness. In the two is Light and darkness. No one can come to the Father but through me. I am the Light.”
“Dad’s not through with you yet. Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you Great and Hidden things that you have not known. Brother, go be fruitful and multiply.”
Something's wrong? My neck hurts. Whats going on? Nurse, stop! stop! stop! That doesn’t feel right. What are you doing? God, please have her quit. She's sticking a tube down my throat. I feel it in my chest.
I can’t move someone. Please anyone have her Stop! The nurse stops looks at me and says “Hello. We just need to make sure no water gets in your lungs. I know it hurts. We just have to make sure we vacuum any liquid." Later, I’ll learn the reason I can’t talk is because I have a Tracheotomy. There's a hole in my throat with a tube connected it to it that is allowing me to breath.
I lay there, glad it's over. But, are they going to do this everyday? Not cool God. What happened? Why am I here?
I hear voices, the lighting in the room hurts my eyes. I see the woman whom I've just recently learned is actually my Mom. Her arms are crossed. She’s listening to the doctor. I’m trying to listen? I can’t make out all the details, but Mom looks like she’s doing some solid, intense eye contact with the Doctor. They’re moving closer to me. Good…. The Doctor says, "He’s showing signs of brain activity. This is good. His body has suffered a great deal of trauma. However, if he makes it. His life will consist of a team of people helping him for the rest of his life, living in assisted-living facility. He suffered a major traumatic injury to the brain. Your going to need to decide what to do.” Wait. Stop. Hello? Are you saying I’m not going to make it? My God. I'm on life support. I suddenly hear her voice, "My son's strong. He’s going to make it. He’s a Fighter! He’s a believer. You keep him alive. My God will deliver him. I know what my God can do!"
Yep. She named me Adam. She’s one of those Bible people. Look at her she’s hurting, she’s all alone. This is to much for her. She walks over to the corner chair, sits, and begins to pray. She crying and pleading with God. She gets up and she’s pacing back in forth in the room. She’s pointing at me and telling my body to heal. She’s massaging my legs and arms. Wait. Wait. Is she …? … Yes. She’s singing. She’s singing to God?! How can she sing at time like this?!!
God, I can’t do this. You heard the Doctor. I can’t put this sweet lady through this. Please, it's not right. It's not right. God let me die. Please let me Die let me just slipway. This is too much for any person to see or go through. God, I don’t want to be bed-ridden for the rest of my life. I’ll never marry. Never have kids or contribute to society…What life is that? Or worse yet, I'll have people aid me for the rest of my life. No Mom deserves to live and go through what she’s going through.
God help her and give her peace in knowing that its ok; to let go of her boy. I'm ok with it. Take me Lord. Please, I beg you. I know you hear my thoughts and know my heart. Just please. I can’t lay here and see this beautiful woman hurt. Please. Please. Please, God.
My Mom and Dad had me when they were only teenagers. My Mom was 14 yrs old, Dad was 16. This was obviously not socially accepted then (or ever!). My Mom’s parents were not supportive. When my grandma found out about her pregnancy. She took my mom home and shaved her head bald as a punishment. She said, “Lets see if that boy sticks around now?” Long story short, My Mom and Dad ran away together before I was born. They lived in a van and traveled around the Dallas metroplex. Because of their ages, they had extreme difficulties with job placement and home rentals. Needles to say, I was born at Parkland Hospital in Dallas, TX. After being released from the hospital, my home was a van - and that remained a reality for the first three to four years of my life.
My dad worked at the airport as a union painter. Because the van was also his only mode of transportation, my mom would take care of me at a local, city park while he was at work. For me, this was the only reality I knew of. My version of normal was a Van as a Home, the City Park as my back yard, and my Best Friend (My Mom) playing with me all day long. We had the best of times. I used to enjoy hearing my mom sing to me and play. She was my everything. Her smile and angelic voice would heal this little boy’s hunger pains. I remember my mom giving me bird baths in the city park restrooms, feeding the ducks, and playing all kinds of made up games by Mom. We couldn't fit furniture in the van, so my bed was a bean bag. At night, she would rub my legs and pat my stomach while she sang me to sleep. My home was full of love, acceptance, and the warm embrace of a caring mother. I felt that no matter how bad the situation was, she was Mom. And a Mom loves unconditionally during the highs and lows. I would learn years later what the meaning of this unconditional love would be to my life.
I wake up and see those eyes staring back at me again. I try to speak, but I can’t. What is going on? Ask me something. Say something. I’ll blink, please!!! Adam. Adam. My Name is Adam. Say my name. She’s not saying anything? What are you doing?
She begins touching my arms and legs. But …. Oh my God, why can't I feel it? Why can't I move? Why is my name Adam? Who names their kid Adam? Think, think!Do you remember anyone saying your name? There has to be some memory. Ok, calm down. No tears. Your name is Adam. Your parents gave you a Hebrew name? Am I Hebrew? Wait, God created man in His own image and named him Adam. I wonder if I have my Dad’s name or maybe they’re just Bible people? Dad? Mom? Can you remember their faces? Can you remember any faces? Think. Think. Think!!!! I can’t!
Ok, so for right now, you'll be my Dad, God. You can be my Dad… Breathe.
God, you’re my Dad. I need you to help me here. I don't know what’s going on or why I’m here. I need you to tell me, please. Please. Can you just give me some hope here?
I take a deep breath and lay there in bed. Then, I hear people talking. It’s that lady again, but this time, there’s another woman here too. She's sees me and leans forward, “Adam do you know who I am?” I lay silent. She turns the other woman, as the other woman in the room says, “You’re a good Mom. Your son’s showing progress. This is Good.” She smiles and says, “I know. He's a fighter. He's going to make it…..” My God. You’re my Mom. You’re not a nurse. Mom. Mom. Mom. She walks to the corner of the room and begins to pray. She's pacing back and fourth, praying and singing.
Wait. Wait. Damn it, I’m Crying!!! Mom, I know that voice! You’re singing! I remember your singing. Don’t stop. It’s so beautiful. It’s so angelic. It’s sounds just like …. Home.
I close my eyes as she rubs my legs and I drift back to sleep.
Praise God! It's good to be Alive! Only those that know me can understand the value of that statement. Those of you that don't, brace yourselves. Get ready to hear and see a mighty modern day miracle from the Almighty God.
Before I dive into my first chapter, I’d like to make one thing very clear. I want to give all glory, honor and praise to my Savior Jesus Christ and my Almighty Father God in Heaven. I will gladly "play the background’ to Him any day.
I hear beeping. I can’t move. My eyes open to a life of uncertainty. I'm confused and taken back by my surroundings. I can’t move?! My brain is telling my body to move, but nothing happens!? I'm screaming for help in my mind, but my lips aren’t moving. Nothing's working.
God, What? Why? My name, My name….? I see people. Look at me.. I’m here! I can’t get their attention. I feel a tear drop down my face. What's my name? I feel depressed, physically weak, and exhausted. I’m mentally struggling to try and understand what has happened to me. I drift back to sleep.
Days, weeks, and months go by. I wake up nearly four months later. In the same room, with the same disabilities. Suddenly, I see someone. Our eyes meet. I think, Yes. Yes. Yes. Her lips open and she says “Adam?” My mind screams. Adam. Adam! My name is Adam!!! Someone knows me. My name is Adam.
I drift back to sleep.
Raquel Gonzales (Kels) - Raquel is a 38-year-old wife of an amazing man, and mother of three beautiful blended teenagers (Elijah 20, Lulu 18, Abby 16). She has thrived in a creative career for over 11 years. Her passion is to empower others by the lessons learned in her own life and challenges through transparency and honest conversations. As a creative soul, she loves to write, design, create and publish. She hopes to please God in doing his work by leveraging the talents he gave her. This blog is but one of those digital artisan crafts. She hope it pleases Him.