Chapter Eight

NOW YOU´RE GONNA SEE MIRACLES!

 Print

The more books I read, which was now one every other night, the more facts I was uncovering to prove the Bible. I could not understand why the media didn’t carry these accounts; why they weren’t taught in schools. The more advanced we became, the more we proved what the prophets had known thousands of years prior. What they wrote then, our doctors and scientists were just uncovering now, in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. You had to dig, and dig hard for the information. If the news and media covered these facts, people all over the world would be flocking and standing in line to get a copy of the Bible.

I couldn’t possibly relate all the information I have uncovered in the dozens of books that I have read, but just to give an example, I will briefly outline some facts that have amazed me personally. Not until the early nineteen hundreds did we know the following:

—that the blood of animals is different from humans

—the blood of all races is the same

—the blood of a dead person is lethal

—the skin is first formed on the embryo, not the bones

—the components which make up our skin and bones are the identical components which are found in earth (God created man from earth)

—I believe even the first anesthesia was performed by God when He put Adam into a ‘deep’ sleep and removed his rib.

Another fact which I found fascinating was regarding our lunar landing. When we landed on the moon, only a fraction of an inch of dust was found to be covering the surface. If the moon was as old as science had been saying for years, then the astronauts would have sunk many feet into the dust. The fact that there was less than an inch, and considering the hundreds of thousands of tons of dust that fall on the moon annually, attracted by its gravitational pull, this only proves that it can’t be more than about ten thousand years old. The moon could not have possibly been rotating around the earth for even a couple of hundred thousand years, much less millions.

I was so overjoyed by the new found power I had received from the Holy Spirit, and all the biblical promises that went with it, that I decided to try it out after Darko had been very sick for three days with a bad flu. The following evening was the big real estate banquet which I desperately wanted to attend. Darko had a high fever with chills and all the frills. Pus was running out both of his eyes. I waited till he was asleep, and not really knowing what I was doing, started reading all the ‘healing’ passages, claiming the healing power of Jesus, through His stripes.

It actually worked! When he woke in the morning, you would not have known he had been ill in bed for days. There was not one sign or trace of the flu.

“It worked. It worked! The Lord healed you!”

“What are you talking about?”

“While you were sleeping, I prayed and claimed healing from the Lord for you. He healed you."

“Don’t be ridiculous. Any flu has to run its course. I’d be better even if you hadn’t prayed.”
We went to the banquet, but the next morning Darko was sicker than he had been previously.

“Pray again.”

“No. It doesn’t work that way. You didn’t give the glory to God. You first have to believe, then pray yourself. The healing is there, but you have to believe and know it is there to get it. It’s like if someone put a million dollars in a bank account for you. Unless you believe it’s there, and go to make a withdrawal, you could be so poor you could starve to death. It doesn’t do any good just being there or having it, you have to know the account number and how to take it out.”

In the weeks that followed, I heard many testimonies about the miraculous healings people had received. Tumors the size of half a football had disintegrated. Paralysis was cured. One testimony in particular affected me. A young man, who had suffered since birth with epilepsy, which was always preceded by a migraine headache; was healed.

I had suffered with migraines from the time I was twelve. My whole left side would go tingly, including my nose and mouth and I would have what I called “white outs”. There were large blank patches of white in front of my eyes. My vocal cords would paralyze, preventing me from speaking and I would suffer excruciating pain for hours.

This fellow went on to say, that once he became saved, at the onset of the migraine, he pointed his finger at his temple and said, “Satan, in the name of Jesus, I rebuke this attack.” The headache subsided and was not followed by an epileptic seizure. The next day, when he would feel the headache approaching, he pointed to his head and said, “Satan, in the name of Jesus. . .“ without finishing the sentence, he could feel immediate relief. The following day, the pain hit quickly and without warning. This time all he had to do was point to his head and immediately the pain vanished, as quickly as it had started.

“You do not have to accept anything from Satan. Rebuke him in the precious name of Jesus. Seven years have passed since that experience, and I praise God that I have not had even a normal headache, nor an epileptic seizure since.”

I knew, there and then, that I would never again have a migraine headache. I never have.

About the third time Darko had come to church, merely four months after I had my ‘miracle service’, the service again wasn’t spectacular. Good, but not spectacular. Once again, there was a visiting evangelist and he was speaking about the baptism of the Holy Spirit. By the end of the service, Darko was sobbing. He was shaking, with tears just streaming down his face. I was ecstatic. Pastor George acknowledged the huge smile on my face. Praise God! Darko got zapped. He’d never doubt that there was a God again. It took him quite a while to compose himself.

“I came into contact with God. He took this great big, huge, soft fist and hit me square between the eyes. It’s fantastic. I’ve met God! Donna, He’s there. He’s real. I don’t believe it. There is a God! I’ve actually met the Living God.”

We discussed it all day. All the experiences I had come home telling him about, he now understood. He had questions. Millions of questions. He was hungry for more. You don’t just run into God and then go about your business and ignore Him. Things happen. You change.

When I became saved, or ‘born again’, I wanted to drag the whole world to church with me. I wanted everyone to experience what I did. I told everyone I knew, plus a few strangers, that the Lord could step into their lives and give them unimaginable joy and fulfillment.

It was all taken with a grain of salt, because this was ‘Donna -- She BELIEVED in miracles. She was always ‘high’. She lived her life exuberantly and any little thing could wind her up and make her glow´... But when Darko now confirmed everything I had said as gospel and would proclaim, “You’d better listen, this is for real,” people listened with a different attitude. Here was this great big hulk, whom you could never budge, under any circumstances, always cool and calm. . . PREACHING!

His mother would say, “This is all nonsense. You’re completely crazy. Dana, the day Darko talks with God or God talks to him, then I’ll believe it.”

Now her son was coming to her with the same message: “God answers prayer. You must be ‘born again’ You have to believe in Jesus Christ to enter the kingdom of God. He’s alive!”

We thought she would respond immediately. “You said if I ever met God, you’d believe it. Well I did, and I regret each and every day of my life that I’ve lived without that knowledge.”

“You’re crazy too. They hypnotized you. You can’t go around talking like this. Everyone believes Jesus Christ lived two thousand years ago and was crucified. So what? But to say He communicates with people is stupid. They’ve hypnotized you, so they can get your money.”

“Why then do you go to fortune tellers and communicate with ghosts and the dead?” I couldn’t help pushing at this point.

“I don’t really believe that. I go just in case. I believe when you die, your spirit goes to another world. Who knows, maybe it wanders around and can communicate with witches.”

“If you believe that maybe ghosts can communicate with witches, then why do you think it’s stupid to believe that Jesus Christ, who is God, can’t communicate with us, especially when you’re instructed in the Holy Word of God, the Bible, that He has been, ever since the beginning of time?”

“He hasn’t. I don’t believe that.”

She agreed to come to our church though. We prayed that the Lord would reach out and touch her. We knew He’d only have the one chance. She’d never come again if He didn’t make Himself real to her.

When she started to cry after the service, my heart leaped. But the tears were not for the reason I’d hoped. “It upset me when I saw that woman and her daughter hugging at the altar and I think of the horrible things my daughter says and does to me. Never a kind word. It breaks my heart. You’re the cause of that, Dana. Until we came to Canada we were a lovely family. She turned wild at fifteen, just when we met you. Ran away from home and went on dope. She spit on me and kicked me. Coming home drunk at that age:; I have you to thank.”

I hardly ever saw Maria in the three years I dated Darko. She’d just pop her head in for ‘hello’ or ‘good-bye’ and that’s all we ever saw of her till years later when we married.

I was brought up very strictly. I was quite a decent teenager. My dad was so strict he didn’t even let me stay out late the night of my graduation, although I had already been engaged for over a year. I was always expected home by midnight, up until the day I got married. If I had ever stayed away from home for three or four days, my dad would have broken me in two with his bare hands. Just smoking cigarettes in those days was considered DARING. Nobody tried dope.

I had just come to an important realization; I realized her words didn’t hurt, didn’t bother me, didn’t raise my blood pressure. It was as if she was attacking someone else, instead of me. There was no dislike for her, no hate. I figured she had to blame someone for her daughter going wild, so it might as well be me.

I also realized that this was not my own nature responding; it was the Lord’s. It was His Spirit. My feathers would have been more than ruffled by this accusation, but instead I was filled with kindness and sympathy. Time and again, He’s proved that He has given us a new spirit and made us a new creature; “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature; old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.’ (2 Corinthians 5:17)

I had noticed this change of heart from the very first day. Only days after my ‘miracle service’ my taste in TV shows changed dramatically. I never watched more than three programs a week anyway, but they were programs I would schedule my life around, not to miss. Now I was appalled by the garbage I had been watching for years. I developed a distaste for my favorite shows and actually loathed the lifestyle they represented. I weighed every word in a new light. I couldn’t find one show which appealed to me or held my attention except for the Christian broadcasts.

Stranger than my new awareness of the junk on TV, was the realization that I had lost all my fear. I no longer had claustrophobia. I no longer feared dogs, and had challenged that many a time with the largest of breeds. Dogs, instead of searching me out, completely ignored me. I did not spook, ever. The evil presence I once felt, was replaced by a peace, “a peace that passed all understanding.” A peace that I was a child of God. When you know who walks with you and whose you are, nothing can scare you. Not even death, for to die means to be immediately in the presence of Christ. I had been reared, as have many, to believe we have to spend time in purgatory, paying for the sins which we have committed. No wonder death is so horrendous, to so many, and people sometimes shriek in fear on their death beds. No one told them that Jesus paid the ultimate price for their sins, on His cross. No one could render that payment. No one needs to. When He was on the cross and the thief hanging beside Him asked to be remembered, He answered, ‘this day thou shalt be with me in paradise’. To leave this world is to be immediately in the presence of the Lord, if you have believed in Him. What or whom then can you ever fear here on earth, being just a heartbeat from Him? Death is just a step from the visible into the invisible. . . and eternity.

2 Timothy 1:7 says “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”

I also quickly learned the dangers of the occult. How the Lord warns against dabbling with any form of the supernatural:

Astrology, Ouija Boards, fortune tellers, etc. You don’t have to go to a Satanic mass to summon the devil. He’s real and he comes quickly to those who think they are just having fun with it.

“I don’t really believe in it. I’m just playing with it. I don’t take it seriously” they’d say. How do you play with Satan? How do you not take him seriously? He’s very intelligent and has had thousands and thousands of years’ of experience at camouflaging and disguising his road to death and darkness as fun and games. I think his greatest triumph was when people started to think of him in a little red suit with horns and a pitch fork. Who could possible take that seriously? They forget he was the most beautiful and intelligent being that God created.

If you believe in God, then you must believe everything He has ever said, such as “We are not battling with flesh and blood but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places”.

He warns us over and over to take it VERY seriously and renounce any involvement in it whatsoever, to get rid of and destroy any zodiac signs, tarot cards or anything associated with magic. It is all black magic, there is no white magic. If you’re going to go looking for the devil, God will not interfere, but will allow you to suffer the consequences of what you have pursued, even if you’re doing it for fun. But there is nothing ‘fun’ about Satan. He’s called ‘The Destroyer’.

We had to do such a housecleaning. It was amazing how many zodiac signs, pendants and carved Buddhas we had accumulated. Rabbits’ feet, horse shoes and books on astrology, all went into the trash. I wasn’t going to give the devil even one small foothold.

The Lord is strict about His people not having any association with the “ruler of this world”. Fortune tellers would promise you the “glorious, prosperous future” you had come seeking, but instead the more you chase the supernatural, the worse your destiny and the worse your outcome. Just watch people, and there are many, ‘just having fun’ with these things and see how their marriages deteriorate, their kids start running amuck, financial pressures increase, jobs and careers go sour. I personally have seen it happen to dozens. The worse life gets for them, the deeper they get involved, seeking answers and solutions. All ending up unhappy, discouraged or on drugs and alcohol; not one living a normal, stable existence but plagued by catastrophe after catastrophe. Statistics show that divorced people are the unhappiest of all groups of individuals, yet it looked like the easy way out, back to the single set and freedom.

God ordained the family and marriage. Satan is the one out to destroy and divide the family unit. Is it a wonder that they’re unhappy?

Jesus came so that we could have life, and have it more abundantly. (John 10:10) Satan and his religion came “to steal, and to kill, and to destroy”, with disease, poverty, stress and immorality.

Many times I have been asked, “if there is a God, why does He make wars and famines and hardship?” He DOESN’T. He gave man the Garden of Eden. Man blew it — not God, but God gets blamed. Man made the choice to obey the evil one, instead of God. All Satan had to do was lie to Eve and then confuse her as far as what it was that God had commanded; and this planet and its´ inhabitants fell from grace. Just look at the countries that are starving and hungry. They’re worshipping false gods. They´re pursuing Allah, Buddha, Hinduism, Transcendental Meditation, Yoga, Reincarnation and Spiritism, and God Almighty gets the blame for their misfortunes.

In the past few decades, people of North America, including government leaders, are reading their horoscope charts daily and seeking after psychics and mystics for the answers for their lives. Every sixty minutes, a teenager commits suicide and 12% of the school kids are using drugs. All the filth of the world is pumped into these teens by the entertainment industries, but they’re not allowed to pray in our public schools. Someone’s afraid they might get a bit of God in them ... but they wonder why God has forsaken them. Look who turned his back. It wasn’t God!... but, no one needs to stay forsaken. “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life; and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.” (John 3:36).

The decision is yours. It’s either black or white, God or Satan. There is no gray in this life. That’s not the Master’s plan. You shall either serve “God or Mammon”.




My parent’s eyes just widened, hearing Darko confirm this knowledge and understanding of God. They never suspected he could be influenced by anything, much less so strongly and adamantly profess that he had a personal relationship now with the Almighty. So, now they worked on the kids.

“That church is bad. It’s brainwashing you. They’re going to kidnap you and take you to some far off country. They want all your money. Don’t go there anymore.”

Unfortunately, the Jim Jones caper had just previously come to a head with the murder and suicide of nearly one thousand people. Jim Jones was an atheist and had set himself up as God, demanding that his followers worship him.

My children had may times heard stories how I was frightened into being good. How I was told there were boogie men in the basement and attic, just waiting to pounce on me the moment I misbehaved. How I was told that all the people walking the streets were gypsies who were looking for children that they could grab and then pull out their eyes and make soap out of them. When I would lose the key to our house, I would crawl into a hole under the veranda. I laid there sometimes till 7:30 at night, till my parents came home, my heart in my throat, listening to the footsteps going up and down the street; feeling terrified.

They weren’t buying this scare tactic. They’d been raised not to blindly believe anything but to judge for themselves. Not to be frightened into other people’s opinions, but to make up their own minds. It didn’t matter what gramma said. Now out-numbered, gramma again agreed to come to church; at least to hear Pastor George sing.

“He sings better than Humperdink” she’d say. “Why doesn’t he go into show business? It’s such a waste of talent singing in a church.”

“He left show business to become a pastor, mother.”

The Spirit of God was evident and moving. The service was beautiful. “They’re all wearing mink. They buy mink coats with the collection money.”

“I just can’t understand why everyone is crying?” she’s now relating to my dad, “That is so stupid. All those people crying. What’s there to cry about?”

“Mother, when you can cry for someone else, someone else’s pain, rather than just your own, then maybe you’ll be happy. I can’t believe you weren’t moved or touched by that service. You witnessed a miracle and it went right over your head. You were in the presence of God and you were counting mink coats.”

“Miracle? What miracle? What happened?” she looked amazed, wondering what she had missed.

It was true; Jesus said, “Whosoever shall seek me with all his heart shall find me”, and “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him and will sup with him, and he with me.” Jesus makes Himself available to ‘whosoever’ but you can’t shut your heart, slam the door, be completely close-minded, and still expect Him to show Himself to you. He’s not a gate crasher. He waits to be invited. He did not create robots. He gave us our free will so that we would gladly and willingly seek His face of our own accord.





Right from the beginning, I had said that I would draw the line at being re-baptized. I’d keep my ‘in’ as a Catholic, just in case. Darko felt the same.

“Oh, I couldn’t get baptized and get in that tank at my age.” Within months, the Lord had changed our hearts. He drew us so strongly that we couldn’t wait for the next baptismal service.

My parents went hysterical. “I won’t allow you to re-christen yourself. Don’t you dare. What will our relatives say? We’ll be the talk of the town. No Catholic has ever renounced the faith of his birth and his mother. If you re-christen the kids, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll renounce you.” My dad was throwing tantrums.

“How can you do this, Donna? What’s the matter with you?” my mother wailed. “I won’t hear of it. Never! You wouldn’t dare.” Now she was really crying.

“It wasn’t my decision, it’s what the Lord wants. He keeps asking and drawing me to be baptized. Jesus’ mother didn’t sprinkle water on him when he was a baby. He was a grown man when He made the decision and was immersed in water. For us this signifies our old selves going into the grave with Him. I follow only His instructions and no one else’s; not any church’s, not any priest’s or pastor’s. I do what He leads me to do.”

“You can’t tell me God told you to be baptized. He wouldn’t tell you such a thing.”

“He did, mother, and I’m not going to argue with Him or with you. It’s final. I’d like for you to be there. I also wish you’d read the Bible and then maybe you’d know what He wants us to do and what He says.”

Unbelievably, when we set a date with the pastors, we found that Keith Parks was going to be there that same service.

That was more than special. I found that God was constantly throwing in these special little blessings. The ‘Big Whoppers’ I somehow understood: Darko got a good job; I was selling houses and the deals were all closing; the other house was rented and the mortgage took care of itself; the income tax was paid; no misfortunes, every day was brighter than the day before; but it was these little extras that meant so much. He cared so much about these little things.

The man, to whom the Holy Spirit had pointed me out, when I was desperate and thoroughly in the dark, would witness the ‘victory’. Of all the weekends to pop back! It only confirmed how special this day was to the Lord, because someone was obedient to His will.

The only relatives that I dearly and truly loved — Uncle Tom, Aunt Vera and Vera’s mother Maka — were coming from Windsor for the long weekend. I especially loved Maka. She was a dear, sweet, elderly lady, with the disposition of an angel and a face to match.

Uncle Tom noticed it first. “Donna, you seem so calm, so at peace. There’s something different about you.”

“Yes,” said Vera, “it’s a kind of peaceful radiance.”

“I’ve found Jesus Christ.” I replied.

“Oh, don’t start that again. You and that stupid church.” My dad hollered and quickly changed the subject.

Maka was the only one that persisted, “Jesus Christ?”

“Yes, Maka, wait till I tell you.”

She absorbed every word as I explained the ‘risen Christ’.

“That’s wonderful,” she exclaimed with tears welling in her eyes. “I want to know Him too.”

“Maka, you have to give up reading tea leaves.”

“Why?”

“The Lord is strongly opposed to that sort of thing. It’ll get you into trouble.”

“I didn’t know that. Oh-h-h-h, I’ll never do it again.”

I knew she wouldn’t even though people would come for miles to have their fortunes told by her.

A few months later we learned that she was in the hospital, recuperating from a massive heart attack. Our first opportunity to go to Windsor was for her grandson’s wedding. I was seated in the second pew and before I could turn my head to see who was whispering so fervently in my ear, Maka had already related half the story of her death and meeting Jesus.

“S-h-h, wait till we get outside.”

She was as jumpy and excited as a little kid, bending forward every few minutes to tell me more.

“Come, come you must hear what happened. Tom and Vera don’t believe me. I SAW JESUS!”

“Start at the beginning, Maka.”

“Okay. For three days before my heart attack, these shrouded figures kept coming into whichever room I was in and were calling my name, motioning me toward them. I didn’t say anything, because, you know, you wonder if you’re going a little funny. But now, listen to this, after three days of seeing these figures, I walked into my husband’s bedroom and there was one of them sitting beside him, dressed in a black shroud. The bed was indented and sprang back when the figure rose. It rose and disappeared as soon as I came into the room. I knew my husband saw him also, because of the petrified expression on his face. He said, ‘I’m going to die, they’ve come to get me!’

“I assured him that it wasn’t him. They were after me. That same day I had my heart attack. I was laying on the floor and the three shrouded men stood and motioned with their hands for me to come with them, all the while calling my name, over and over. I remembered what you had said, to call on the name of Jesus. So I said, ‘Jesus, Jesus, come to me.’ HE CAME! I SAW HIM! He came and took my hand and asked if I wanted to go with Him. He was all shiny and glowing. I told Him I wanted to go with Him but that my husband was too old to take care of himself. The next thing I know, I woke up in the hospital.

“It happened, Donna, I did not dream this, He actually appeared to me.”

“I believe you, Maka, I believe you. Praise God.”

“Mother, did you hear that? Did you hear what she said?” I asked.

“Am I going to sit and listen to the ramblings of an old lady?”

“Old lady? You better take another look. That old lady, looks, dresses, carries herself and acts young enough to be your daughter. I suggest you start paying a little bit of attention to her, you might learn something.”

I shared the concept of salvation with everyone I knew. I explained it was free for the asking. Submit your life to the Lord, sit back, and watch His perfect plan for your life unfold. Life, as it was meant to be lived.

Most seemed to accept what I was saying, but their response was, “That’s just great, Donna. I’m glad it works for you. I don’t need God or church right now. It’s not for me.” Yet these same people would complain day after day, “I have problems. I’m always tired. I don’t feel good. My husband doesn’t understand me; I think we’re going to get a divorce. I think my wife’s running around. My kid’s dropped out of school.”

Boy! I thought, do they need rejuvenation. Rejuvenation that comes from the Living God.

Others thought that running to Christianity was a ‘cop out’. A COP OUT? Do you know how much guts it takes to be a Christian in this world of ours, today? Sheer guts! You think cowards stand up and tell today’s society they love Jesus? Not very likely. I think blending into the crowd, having no backbone to stand up for anything, is the cop out. You believe you evolved from apes so you act like apes, anything goes. I believe a higher Omniscient Being created me in His own image and try daily to live up to that revelation.

Chris was the first to respond. Especially since she was so involved with her mother’s psychic activities. I didn’t hold back anything. I scared her half to death and insisted she renounce her participation in the supernatural. She came to church but was not impressed and decided to tune into the 700 Club, 100 Huntley Street and the PTL Club. She experienced the touch of God in the privacy of her own home. Hank was furious. Just as Darko, Hank had insisted God was a bunch of bunk, for little kids and mental midgets. He wouldn’t allow us to ever discuss it in his presence. Even the expression ‘Praise the Lord’ would get a lifted brow and color would flush across his face.

Having found one friend, who gladly accepted that Jesus was very real and very accessible, I became bolder. My next door neighbor was complaining that her eighteen year old daughter slept till noon, hitchhiked all over the country till all hours of the morning, wouldn’t go to school or get a job. She didn’t know what to do with her. I attempted to share the Lord with her but she would have nothing to do with anything that wasn’t Catholic.

“Forget about miracles, the power of prayer and the Holy Spirit.” She went to church every Sunday and was an “I’ve got my ticket” Catholic, so instead, I called her daughter over that same day. She arrived after supper. I didn’t know where to start, hardly knowing her, except to see her come and go occasionally. She was probably a lovely looking girl, but you couldn’t tell. Her eyes were painted so black they looked like a raccoon’s and her long thick hair might have been beautiful but it was teased so hard it stuck straight out, far from her head. She wore at least a dozen bracelets on each arm and a ring on every finger. You could see her coming a mile away.

I told her I had something to say, but that I didn’t know how, so I wanted to play some video tapes I had recorded from the shows I had been watching. “Oh, I’m game, show me what you’ve got. I’m bored silly, anyway.”

I first played a two hour tape on which Colonel Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken was giving his testimony about how he got saved. A tiny church was having a twenty-four hour prayer and fast vigil. They were praying for a millionaire. They had less than three days to come up with $36,000 or else they would have to close their doors. At the same time, Col. Sanders was driving by and the little white church on the hill beckoned him and drew him like a magnet. He circled back, and came through the doors. The pastor just motioned to him and said, “Come in, we’ve been expecting you. Come right up here. You are the answer to our prayers.” That day he accepted the Lord as his Saviour, and of course, paid off the church debt.

He then proceeded to relate about the experience he had in the hospital when the doctors told him he had a cancerous polyp, which would have to be removed. He called for the minister, for a healing prayer, and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the polyp had passed through when he next went to the bathroom. He said nothing to the doctors and proceeded with the surgery only to wake up to find the doctor and six lawyers standing by his bed.

“We’ve made a mistake. There is no polyp.”

“Don’t worry guys, you won’t be sued. I know I had one until last night, only Jesus beat you to the operation.”

Lorrie didn’t even blink. She just stared at my TV set.

“Do you want to see another one?” I asked, expecting her to say “no” and hightail it out as fast as she could.

She nodded her head up and down without saying one word. I put on the tape where Pat Boone related how his daughter’s little white mouse had died. Pat Boone, being a giant in the faith, knew the power of prayer, knew Christians had dominion over the animals, so his little girl and he knelt and closed their eyes and committed that pet mouse to the Lord. When Pat opened his eyes, there was the little mouse, standing on his hind legs in the palm of his hand. Tears of joy and unbelief poured down their faces.

A veterinarian was on the same program saying how he stopped a charging bull, right in its tracks. The bull just slumped to the ground, merely feet from where he was standing frozen with fear. He said he prayed over each animal brought to his clinic. When asked by Jim Bakker if he told his clients that, he replied, “Are you kidding? Do you think they’d pay my phenomenal bill if they knew I only prayed over the animals?”

When the second tape was finished, I held my breath. She had placed her face in her hands and was quiet for about ten minutes. You could have heard a pin drop. When she lifted her head, her face was black with tears, “I understand now what the ‘Jesus letters’ from my brother are about. He’s in prison in B.C. I just love him and he’s been sending ‘I love Jesus’ and ‘I’ve been saved’ letters. We didn’t know what he was talking about. Now I know. Now I understand. Oh Jesus! Hallelujah! I understand.”

The Bible says, that their eyes would be opened and their ears unstopped by the word of God, and I was a witness to that very thing. She just went BINGO! I told her that to be born again and enter the kingdom of God you had to acknowledge that you were a sinner and that you believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross for those sins; you believe He rose from the dead and ask Him to come into your life as your Lord and Saviour. A simple prayer, yet it opens the gates of heaven and you become a child of God. We talked for hours.

“Can I come back tomorrow and talk some more? It’s almost four in the morning?”

“Of course, any time. Whenever you want. Take this Bible and be sure to read it. It’ll change your life.”

And it did. The Holy Spirit changed her inside out. Within a week, she had stopped smoking. Her hair fell naturally in curls around her face. There was not a trace of makeup, and absolutely no jewellery but one ring and a chain around her neck. She WAS pretty. Really pretty. She found a steady job and was bubbling over with happiness . . . TALK ABOUT A NEW CREATURE!

Many evenings she came over and we would sit on my patio staring across the fields at the sunset, awestruck by God’s handiwork.

After decades of groping in the dark of a busy world, Christians (I should say ‘new’ Christians) immediately stop to smell the flowers and start automatically to appreciate the beauty of nature. Her mother was not impressed.

“Look what’s happened to her, Donna. No one would recognize her. No makeup. She just goes to work and reads her
Bible. She’s not the same person.”

“Are you upset because she’s finally acquired some good taste and doesn’t look like she’s going trick or treating or are you upset because she doesn’t sleep till noon?”

“We’re Catholic, Donna. It’s wrong to leave the One True Holy Church.”

“No one told Lorrie to quit smoking. Nobody told her that her makeup was hideous. The Holy Spirit showed her what needed attention in her life. She looks magnificent. She’s deliriously happy. As for the One True Church, the only true church is the body of Christ; His believers. That’s the only church the Bible professes.”

“Holy spirit? Born again? I don’t know what her father will do if she re-baptizes herself.”

The next thing I knew, there was a ‘For Sale’ sign on their front lawn; and she was NOT listed with me.

June 1980

I was now making enough money that I realized I would need some expenses to offset the profit. Since my clients didn’t appreciate climbing in and out of my two door, with a tiny back seat, I decided to shop for a larger car, with four doors. Darko agreed, but insisted it had to be a diesel. We didn’t want another gas guzzler.

I must have priced at least fifteen cars, at as many dealers. Each dealer would have only one diesel on inventory and the price was standard, $13,500. There were not many options, either. I soon realized this was about $4,000 more than I could comfortably afford and almost gave up, when, driving by a dealer in Toronto, something kept telling me to stop, even though I was in a hurry for an appointment. I turned back and sought a salesman.

“Do you have a diesel, by any chance?”

“Sure do. What color did you have in mind?”

“You mean you have more than one?”

“As a matter of fact, we have thirteen.”

“Do you have one in burgundy?”

“Right over here. Burgundy, inside and out. It’s got air, power windows, opera windows, opera lights, AM-FM, digital clock and padded roof.”

One look and I was sold.

“How much?”

“Let’s see,” he said while flipping some papers, “this one’s $10,600.”

“I’ll take it.” I responded on the spot. I knew a deal when I saw one. I also knew I’d have to sell at least one more house, to afford even that price. We were on a lease purchase with our Omnis and that was another problem. I explained my situation regarding the lease to the salesman. “I’ll keep the car on ice for twenty-four hours. See if you can get out of your lease. I doubt you’ll be able to.”

I immediately drove to my dealer, praying all the way there. I knew the Lord wouldn’t mind my upgrading my car for the convenience of my clients. Driving a tiny, two door, in real estate was very impractical.

“I’d like you to take this car back. How much will you give me for it?”

“You can’t get out of a lease. Besides, we wouldn’t give you any money, you’d have to buy the car out right, in full.”

When I explained the car I had just seen, he couldn’t believe it. “A car like that, without those options, costs the dealer more than $11,000. Just the ‘diesel’ option is $900 alone. It’s impossible.”

“If I prove to you that I’m telling you the truth, will you let me out of our lease?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, lady, because I know it’s impossible. You’ve made a mistake.”

I dialed the Oldsmobile dealer and passed the phone to him. He was visibly upset.

I now had a problem I had not anticipated; putting out additional money on the car I was driving. I would definitely have to sell a house.

I did; that same evening. Unbelievable. “Thank you, Lord.” I was amazed how He had worked out all the impossible details. Darko decided that he would keep my car and we would trade in his “024”. Our dealer didn’t care which lease he allowed us to terminate. When we went to take delivery the next day, I became suspicious of the salesman’s math.

“Why would my monthly payments be that high?”

“There’s tax included.”

“Even with tax, you’re still talking sixty dollars per month more than I’ve calculated. Times thirty-six months, that’s more than two thousand dollars difference.”

“To tell you the truth, I made a mistake yesterday. I quoted a price that was over one thousand dollars less than we paid for the car. I can’t sell it at a loss. We just don’t do that, especially with new cars.”

“Well, we can’t afford to buy it then.” He didn’t go for the threat, and actually let us walk away.

I was so disappointed. I figured the Lord was not behind this idea of mine and my clientele would have to suffer in my compact. Seven thirty, the next morning, I received a phone call from the manager of the dealership.

“Ma’am, I wouldn’t want any bad publicity or want you to think that our salesmen quote one price to get you interested, then charge more once you’ve decided to buy. If my salesman said, $10,600, then that’s what you’ll pay. We’ll take the loss and keep our good reputation. You may come and get your automobile.”

This car fell right out of heaven as far as I was concerned. “We’ll be right over.”

Within hours, I was behind the wheel of my burgundy dream. . . thirty six miles per gallon, to boot!

The following Sunday, I sat in church wondering, “Why me, Lord? Why are you so good to me? Why?”
I distinctly heard Him say, “I’ve blessed you more than abundantly.”

Yes! But why? Tell me why. While I was sitting there, He showed me all the ways He’d blessed me, in this short period of time. I couldn’t help but cry.

Pastor Fred was speaking about serving the Lord; finding something to do for Him, for His kingdom. What, I thought? I can’t sing. I can’t do anything. I don’t want to take care of the babies in the nursery. I haven’t been out of the diaper stage long enough to go back to changing more, but after pondering the idea, I decided to give the nursery a try. I presumed that it’s the things that you do, that you don’t like to do, that really count the most.

I signed up and the following Sunday morning I had a baby under each arm while trying desperately to hear the message on the the speakers which were simply not loud enough. At the conclusion of the service, a tall girl approached me to retrieve her baby from my arms.

“ARE YOU DONNA? DONNA MARTONFI?”

“Why yes. . . who are you?”

She was jumping up and down and hugging me. “Praise God! Hallelujah! My mother prayed for you. For year’s my mother’s been praying for you. Wait till I tell her. Praise God!”

“Who’s your mother?” My mind raced, trying to figure out whom I had known that was born again.

“Don’t you recognize me? I’m Sue, Verna’s daughter. Verna’s my mother.”

That precious lady. I wouldn’t go to Bible study with her so she spent years praying for me.

“It took you long enough! To think we’d meet here after all these years. Wait till she hears you’re saved.”

---

© Please feel free to use any portion of this book in any manner that does NOT include selling or receiving financial remuneration or profit. We ask only that you keep the website, email contact info, and author contact information intact. Please include the clause--- 'copyrighted by Donna Martonfi' *