The title is a bit misleading. I apologize. It's the marketing gene inside me that inspires me to attract others to my stories. When you think about it, isn't that what you really want? Don't you want to find Jesus? Well, the truth is, Jesus found me. If you haven't heard my testimony before, this is my story. It's really not pretty.
Before I spill the beans, I want to encourage you to find Jesus. It doesn't matter who you are, what you've done, where you live, or how deep that hurt is inside you. What matters is that you can find Jesus when you seek him. Or, if you're like me and you feel so lost that redemption is out of the question, allow Jesus to find you. I promise, Jesus will drop everything and come to you if you really want recovery.
My Testimony
I grew up as a cradle Catholic. I know many in my denomination who follow all the rules of our upbringing but don't really know Jesus. Sadly, checking all the boxes of our faith doesn't really help us to know Jesus like so many people I know outside of my denomination who are on fire for Jesus because they have been "born again." Yes, there are cradle Catholics who have experienced this but it usually takes some kind of extraordinary experience to know Jesus like I now know him.
I had many strikes against me in my youth. We had an Irish priest who ruled with an iron fist. It didn't help that his accent was so thick I could barely understand him. He put curfews on the young priests who served under him. They didn't stay. We were forced to go to church every Sunday. The real reason I went was to be the example to my five younger siblings. They didn't know I sat in what we called the "crying room" in the back of the church reserved for the moms with their babies. When no one else was around I often turned the volume off and just sat there.
There was this difficult time in our household that inspired me to pray with great fervor. I felt abandoned because my prayers weren't being answered. My family disintegrated and I moved out, mad at God for not healing my family. I carried this anger with me all through college and beyond. Hatred and prejudice invaded my heart and I stopped going to church. When I did pray, it was for wisdom so I could survive life on my own. I felt God was simply too busy to really be in a relationship so I didn't even really try.
I met my future wife in a place where I hung out with my closest friends. All I wanted to do was be with her. She was the one. She went to church every Sunday. I wanted to be with her every day so I returned to God's house, this time with something to thank God for, the woman of my dreams who happened to be a cradle catholic. Every prayer I prayed was of gratitude.
We moved to a small town outside of San Diego and began raising our family. Our pastor was an Irish priest who had a hard life before finding Jesus. At his lowest point he was living on the streets drinking up to a gallon of vodka a day. There was this authenticity in Fr. Pat that made me want to know this Jesus he spoke about on a deeper level. On the surface I was doing all the things you would expect from a good person but inside my heart I held on to the pain from my past and I couldn't let go. Forgiving others was out of the question. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't let go of my grudges.
My wife and I attended a couple of retreats. We learned to communicate on a deeper level. I ended up with a small group of men on the last day of the retreat and I told them about my grudges. I confessed that I didn't have the power to forgive. It was the last meeting before we went to church for a final blessing from Fr. Pat. We did something called the "laying of hands," an ancient ritual for summoning the Holy Spirit. Father placed his hands over the leaders who guided us during the retreat and they went out to the congregation to repeat the process with all of us. I had my first "Jesus" moment. I didn't see him but I felt his presence while we looked at a massive line of people standing in formation directly in front of us. Every one of them was an enemy. I found myself thanking Jesus for each and every one of these people. Some time later I woke up. The church was dimly lit and nearly empty. I was different. My relationships with others were enhanced, even with those I considered as my enemies until I had that life-changing experience with Jesus.
I was inspired to get my own personal Bible. I really didn't know how to read it because my family never really did anything except own a pristine Bible that remained on a shelf collecting dust. Sure, we had scripture in our masses but that doesn't work when you're in the crying room and the volume is turned off. I got this Vulgate Bible not really knowing what it was. Well, Vulgate is a Hebrew-to-Latin translation filled with all kinds of "thees and thoughs" and many other words not common to modern English. It's not the best Bible for newbies like I was.
One day a visitor came to our church in Southern California. I'm not sure where he came from or what denomination he was from. He didn't talk about himself. He shared about how you can get close to Jesus by pretending there is a mirror in your Bible when you read the stories. This way the characters are actually you and God in the Bible story with you. Some may argue that what I did when I went home was some form of Bible roulette or Bible bingo. I can assure you with 100% certainty that what happened exactly mirrored my own life and how Jesus found me. I called out to Jesus during my teenage years. He dropped everything and came to me. There was Jesus in Luke 8:26-40, fresh off the boat after calming the sea. He interrupted his mission to help me, a lost sheep. Jesus waited until I was ready to understand with my heart just how much he loved me. There I was, a demoniac possessed by multiple demons. Jesus was preparing his followers, all Jews, to change the world and he dropped everything to rescue me. He heard the screams of a young teenager who was begging to be taken away from this world because he could no longer live with the demons who invaded his heart. This young teenager wrongly believed that only suicide could help. What did Jesus do? He got in the boat, took his followers with him, healed the demoniac, clothed him and told him to go "publish" all the good he had done for me. Unless you happen to own a vulgate Bible, you won't see the word publish. This word is only found in the Vulgate version and it pertains to my life because I'm a publisher. That's why I was awestruck by the passage I read that exactly mirrored my own life, past, present, and future. That's what the Bible is, the Living Word of God who became flesh, completely unbounded by linear time as we know it. This Jesus in the New Testament leapt out of a 2,000 year old story and answered my prayer.
Here's the best part of my testimony. You are a part of this story. That's why reading the Bible and understanding it is so important. When the man in the demoniac story gets healed, all he wants to do is follow Jesus. Jesus needs to die on the cross soon and can't have this man around because it's not time yet for the Gentiles to be a part of the salvation story. That comes with the Resurrection. Jesus tells the healed man, "Sorry, you can't follow me. Go tell everyone about me. I'll be back." The "I'll be back" part is not only for the healed man 2,000 years ago in Luke's story, it's about us and when Jesus returns.
Maybe you're asking, "Michael, why are you sharing your testimony?" I believe my real job on this planet is to do just what Jesus asked the healed demoniac to do, "Go tell others all the good I have done."
The final "Godincidence" I want to share has to do with a youth pastor I met while on assignment at my day job in Duluth, Minnesota. My mother was as excited as a jackpot winner when I told her where I was headed because the person who inspires her most is an Irish priest from a family of six, just like our family. I didn't know how famous he was when I was seeking him in order to thank him for helping my mom with her spiritual growth. I found him and I thanked him after attending a private mass he offers for his students in Minnesota. It turns out that he offers a Bible-in-a-year podcast. In my dad's words, "He is world famous." He is also easy to understand unlike that Irish priest with a thick accent we had growing up in Phoenix. I'm pretty sure Fr. Mike would love for you to join him for his daily podcasts. I would love it, too. My mother is also all in for the daily podcasts starting January 1. Click here for the link to the podcast. If you make it all the way to the story I shared here about the demoniac, I hope you remember what I shared here and that you offer a prayer for me and my family. Although Jesus may have cast the devils out of my alter ego, those dark spirits always seem to appear when I'm doing what Jesus asks of me. Thank you for allowing me to share my testimony here with you. Have a great day.
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