Testimonies Index

J O N



MODERN DAY PRODIGAL SON RETURNS"

by Lil Jon.

This was sent to me as his testimony please read this and be grateful for the mercies of YAHUSHUA. Especially this Thanksgiving day. We have MUCH to be thankful for. If you can read this and not get a feeling of a grateful spirit and offer up a prayer of Thanksgiving to YAHUVEH and YAHUSHUA then I question whether your really saved. Jon’s birthday is Dec. 25 and his mother and father died last year. Please email him and encourage him.

Happy Thanksgiving to all our Partners and friends.

With much love my husband Apostle Nikomia and I send our blessings to you in the name of YAHUSHUA

Apostle Elisabeth (Elisheva) Elijah

* * * * * * *

MODERN DAY PRODIGAL SON RETURNS

11.28.02 

Please share this with others on Thanksgiving and with your family and loved ones or those you minister too.

* * * * * * *

By Lil Jon

I have gone to Christian school all my life [K-12]. When I was 7 years old we had a chapel service at school. A man, the guest speaker, told of the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He illustrated it with special chalk drawings, which glowed under a black light. After chapel everyone returned to their classrooms. My teacher talked to us about the message, and then she invited anybody that wanted to, to give their heart and life to Jesus Christ. I raised my hand, she led me to an area at the back of the room, explained the plan of salvation to me; I got on my knees, bowed my head, and asked Jesus to come into my heart.

I told my mom as soon as I got home. I was very excited. Sharing my faith with everyone I came into contact with. I studied the bible a lot, both in school, [bible class] and at church, [Sunday school].Over time, I lost my ferver. When I was about 91/2 years old we moved. I made friends with kids that weren’t Christians. I started living a double life. Going to church, acting and speaking one way around Christians. Coming home, acting and speaking another way, in front of my friends.

I started backsliding in small ways at first. Cursing, chewing tobacco, smoking cigarettes. That’s the way I was for the next few years. At 14 years of age, I began smoking cigarettes habitually. That was it for the next couple of years. At 16 years of age, I smoked my first joint. It was very low quality marijuana, so I didn’t get a habit. A few months later, I got drunk for the first time in my life. I didn’t get a habit, but I would binge drink anytime. A few months after that, my friend bought so high quality marijuana and I got stoned for the first time in my life. Again, I didn’t get a habit, but I did get stoned a lot after that.

When I was about 171/2 years old we moved again. This time it was a big move. We moved from south Florida, to north central Florida, during my senior year of high school. I didn’t know anybody, and I was a very shy, so booze and pot became my friends. It’s amazing, even though I was extremely shy; I had made the necessary connections to supply myself with marijuana. Almost immediately after I arrived.

Even though I tried not to think about God, or talk to anybody about him. Christian principles were deeply ingrained in me. I would not lie, cheat, or steal. I also treated women with respect, not only cause of my Christian upbringing, but also because my father had raised me that way. So for the next few years I got drunk and stoned. When I would build up a tolerance to the marijuana, instead of moving on to harder drugs, I would stop smoking for a few months; and let the marijuana get out of my system. Then I could get high again.

Right after I turned 22, I was invited to go to Daytona Beach Florida. I only live 60 miles from there, and my employer was about to send me out of state, to a company school for special certification. I was thinking "why not; one last blow out before I settle down"

On the way old of town, I almost got into a car accident. That; along with some other situations that came about earlier. Lets me know that God was trying to keep me away from Daytona. On the way to Daytona, I had a couple beers, and smoked about half a joint with friends. My judgment wasn’t impaired though. When we got to the beach, my friends and I were playing catch with a football. Five of my friends went out into the water, while I and another guy stayed on the beach. We were throwing the ball back and forth between the guys in the water, and us two guys on shore.

Skipper, [the other young man], and I decided to run into the water. When the water was almost crotch deep I saw a small wave coming toward me. I decided to do a shallow dive into the wave, just deep enough to get my hair. "Thud", it felt like I hit a brick wall, and I could taste blood on my bottom lip. I don’t know how I knew, but I seemed to instinctively know what had happened; because I didn’t try to stand. I was paralyzed from the chest down. I reached for the bottom to push myself up, out of the water. My fingers could just touch the bottom. I pushed down, and my fingers sunk into the sand. I didn’t panic, a peace came over me, and I just floated there, holding my breath. Suddenly, a couple of the guys I was with, grabbed me under the arms, lifted me up, and dragged me up to the beach.

As I lay there, I fell asleep. I was woke up by the jostling of the paramedics, as I was being put on the back board, and loaded into the ambulance. I have since figured out that I lost consciousness, not fell asleep. I must’ve lost consciousness again, because I don’t remember arriving at the hospital. I remember talking to my dad. While I was talking to my dad, my eyes rolled back in my head, and I slipped into a coma. What had happened is; when I broke my neck, I damaged the artery that supplies blood to the brain stem; which is why I lost consciousness. It took approximately 7 hours for the pressure to build up, and for me to have the stroke. I was in a coma for about 2 months.

I was classified as semi-comatose; because I would wake up when they would take me downstairs for a cat scan. While I was still partially comatose, I was woken up being moved from my bed to a gurney. They took me to an operating room, and performed a tracheotomy on me. They didn’t know I had normal feeling from the chest up, and I couldn’t speak. So when they cut my neck open to into my throat they didn’t use any anesthetic. I felt everything; I have a very high tolerance of pain, but thank God I slipped back into unconsciousness. When I finally came out of the coma, I had lots of movement still, but I couldn’t feel it, so I eventually lost. I was also quite groggy, so I slept a lot. If I had not had the stroke, there is no doubt in my mind that I would have walked again, the same year I got hurt; maybe the same month.

I spent 2 more months in that hospital, in Daytona Beach, 4 months in total. I then was transferred to a small acute care rehabilitation center in Auburndale Florida. Not much significant happened there; except, I became bitter with God. People would come to visit, and say something like "praise God you’re still alive ". I didn’t want to hear that, and would say, "I don’t believe in God anymore ". That was a boldfaced lie. I could no more not believe, than not believe in the wind. I was just angry, with the world.

I eventually came to grips with everything that was happening to me. I spent 2 more months at this hospital. The only significant thing that happened at this hospital is they put a G-tube in my stomach, so they could feed me, without going through my mouth. I was aspirating food into my lungs. I was to be transferred to a rehab in Gainesville Florida. That’s about 45 minutes north of where I live in Ocala Florida. 24 Hours before I was to be transferred, governor Chiles tried canceling all Medicare and Medicaid benefits. I didn’t have insurance when I got hurt, because I had just turned 22, which meant I was too old to be covered by my parents insurance, but I was only weeks away from receiving full insurance coverage at my job.

I was then transferred to a rehab in Tampa. They basically started getting me on a routine of giving me a shower every other day, and performing bowel care, every other day. They also worked with me on learning to hold my head up, and on being able to sit in a wheelchair without the trunk supports in position. When I had the stroke, I lost the use of every part of my body. On December 24, 1991; my parents brought me home. The people at the hospital told my dad he couldn’t bring me home, and that they had already made arrangements for me to go to a nursing home. My dad said 2 words to them, "watch me!" He then came to my room, put me in the wheelchair, took me to the car, loaded me in, and took me home.

After I came home not to much happened for about 6 months, then a few of my old friends came by occasionally. I asked my mom, "I wonder why Dean hasn’t come by?" Dean was my best friend. My mom said to me, "Your dad will have to tell you about Dean, when he gets home." I could tell something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. When my dad got home, I asked him, "what about Dean?"

He gave me puzzled look; he didn’t understand what I was asking. My mom came in explained it to him. He said to me, "Dean is dead; he was killed on his motorcycle. We didn’t tell you when you were in the hospital, because we didn’t want you to get upset; while you were in the hospital." About a year before my accident, Dean had bought a motorcycle. He had been out drinking, smoking marijuana, and playing pool. He was going home around 2 o’clock in the morning.

He fell asleep on his motorcycle, ran off the road, and hit a tree. He was killed instantly. They didn’t find him until the next day. That night I promised God, I would never again be afraid to tell anybody about Him.

Around Christmas, Dean and I were riding around in my car smoking marijuana. Dean and I were talking, and he makes a statement, "I believe if God didn’t want us to smoke marijuana, he wouldn’t have put it on earth."

Almost like a reflex, I started telling him about, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil that God placed in the middle of the Garden of Eden. Dean was not saved, and I knew it. Even though I smoked and drank, I knew, without a doubt, that what I was doing was wrong. The Holy Spirit was convicting me, it didn’t feel good, and so I made myself stop talking.

Now Dean was dead, and in hell for eternity. I think I was the only Christian he knew, and I had refused to witness to him.

One night after my parents were finished eating, my dad mashed up a few green beans, and patiently started feeding me by mouth. Each night he would give me a little more. Eventually, I was able to take in enough nutrition by mouth; I then didn’t have to use the G-tube anymore, except on occasion, and to take medication.

After a while I got tired of being inside, my dad started me in the morning, before he would go to work, and put me in the wheelchair. My mom would feed me, and then take me out to the back porch. I have always enjoyed the warm and hot weather. I talked my parents into letting me sit out in the yard, in the sun. I would sit outside, look at the trees, grass, squirrels, and birds; feel the wind on my face; and I would think, "What a beautiful and wonderful world God has given us; and I took it all for granted.

How can anybody believe that this is the result of some random cosmic accident? What I wouldn’t give for another chance." I still had a problem drinking liquids. I couldn’t suck a straw, or drink from a cup. I had to have all liquids spoon fed to me, like a child taking medicine. It took a long time to give me a cup of water or ensure. Ensure is the liquid they put in the G-tube, instead of food, it tastes about like slim fast. My parents were very patient with me. They found a cup where the straw came from the bottom of the cup. They would put a pin on my nose, put the plug in my trake, and I would suck with my lungs. I aspirated some for while, but they would suction it out immediately. Eventually I got to where I didn’t need the pin on my nose. I still sucked with my lungs, but not as much. After a year or two, I started sucking using just my mouth muscles. One day out of curiosity, I tried drinking without the trake being plugged up. I was able to do it. So now I can easily drink from a straw.

My dad’s boss was also a long time family friend. We use to go to church with him and his family in south Florida; now they lived in North Carolina. They knew about the situation, so they offered to pay for round trip tickets, if my parents would fly up for the weekend. My mom had never flown before, because she had a fear of flying, but she wanted a break. My parents went, and when they came back, they were refreshed; my mom had a small hacking cough.

We didn’t think anything of it, and my mom ignored it for almost 2 months. It got progressively worse, so my mom went to the doctors, and she put my mom in the hospital that night, she said my mom had viral pneumonia. My mom was in the hospital almost a week; they were able to clear up the pneumonia, but they said it had attacked her heart muscle; now she had congestive heart failure. For years she took supplements, and seemed ok.

One day she asked me if I wanted to move, I said no, because I didn’t want my dad to have to move us by himself. About a week later, my mom tells me they’re going to have a house built, my parents went to see an architect, together they designed a completely wheelchair accessible house. It seemed to take forever to get started, but afterwards, it went pretty fast.

We were in the house a few years, when a nurse asked us why I didn’t have an electric wheelchair, we told her it was because our old house was too small. She gets on the phone to a wheelchair supplier, and a few days later, a man comes out to the house, and measures me so they can build a wheelchair for me.

Everything was fine for the next year or so. My mom was getting good reports from the doctor. She had 1 week that was exceptionally good; she went shopping with her sister and daughters, and had a good time going all over town with them. I thought my prayers, for my moms healing, had been answered. One night I was asleep, my dog was sleeping with me. I was startled awake by my dog barking. Somebody had rang the doorbell, it was the paramedics.

My dad came in crying; he laid his head on my shoulder and says, "Pray Jon, I think she’s dying." I’ve never seen my dad scared and vulnerable like that; it was scary. All the immediate family came over, and about 11 o’clock the next day we were told that she had died. 2 Weeks after the funeral my dad went to see the doctor, for a checkup.

When he comes home he tells me she wants him to have special tests. He goes for the tests, when he comes home, he tells me that they have found a mass on his liver. I have to say my heart in my throat at that moment. My dad immediately started on chemo therapy. For months he was doing well, and showing improvement.

Then after about 6 mouths, he was suppose to go for a colonoscopy, but he had a blockage in his intestines. He went into the hospital for emergency surgery. They removed a foot of his colon, and performed a colostomy. After my dad recovered from the surgery, he started back on the chemo therapy. He was doing pretty well; they were even talking about reversing the colostomy; again I thought my prayers had been answered.

In September of 2001 my dad took a turn for the worse. He decided that he wanted to go into a hospice home. He got some much needed rest, and he seemed to regain his strength, until the last week of October. Somebody gave him too much pain medicine, after that he had slurred speech, and short concentration.

About the first week of November he decided he wanted to come home. He had lost so much weight. He was just a shell of the man I had known only a year earlier. The cancer was eating him alive. He had been 6 foot tall, 225 pounds; now he weighed 98 pounds. I cried all the time; I just wanted to be able to care for my dad, like he had cared for me. My dad passed away Thanksgiving morning 2001; it would have been my mom’s birthday. He said he wanted to make it to Thanksgiving.

I still lay awake some nights and cry. Point is I don’t blame God; Satan took my parents; not God.

If anyone wants to write me they can write at the below email address.

theprodigal2003@yahoo.com

* * * * * * *

My response to Jon. Please email him and encourage him.

Beloved Brother Jon,

Your testimony still has tears running down my cheeks! How much we have to be grateful for and take for granted. How many of us even take eating and drinking for granted forgetting what a miracle it is to eat and drink and swallow! How many of us take for granted the moving of our arms and legs. OH YAHUVEH and YAHUSHUA please forgive us who take your mercies for granted in YAHUSHUA’S name I pray!

You are very special and your testimony will be used to reach millions of souls. Your testimony shows us how much we take for granted the many mercies of YAHUVEH and YAHUSHUA.

You have a gift for writing and touching a heart. you said you want to reach souls and this is start how to do it. Your testimony reminds me of Joni Erikson she went swimming and broke her neck also and is also a quadriplegic can’t move her arms or legs. She paints the most beautiful pictures with a paintbrush between her teeth! She probably is your age. She uses what happened to her to bring souls into the Kingdom of Heaven.

You are very brave dear brother and in Heaven you will run again and walk again. You will be totally healthy again if not on this earth then in Heaven. This body we are in now is just a shell. Think of a turtle the shell is not the turtle. The turtle body is unseen. Our Spiritual body is unseen and only this vulnerable shell of a body is seen by others.

It is a privilege to call you brother Jon ! It is a privilege for you to be brought here by the HOLY SPIRIT to share your testimony so others can learn from your testimony.

Jon we look forward to meeting you in Heaven. My husband and I read your testimony together and it has touched us greatly.

Without meeting you Jon we love you! You are our brother and if we can help you please let us know. 

There is a woman out there for you also. The woman waiting for you will love you and recognize you as her soul mate. She may see your testimony or picture and I prophecy it will be as if she recognizes you and knows not why. When your soul was created the other half of it is this woman and you will know each other by each others eyes for your souls will recognize each other, then when you meet and hold hands the anointing will increase in each of you. I pray in YAHUSHUA’S name that you find the love that my husband and I have with each other and both of you will grow together in the LORD YAHUSHUA and the anointing will increase daily. You are in our prayers as we ask to be in yours.

Much love and blessings in YAHUSHUA's name,
Apostle Elisabeth (Elisheva) Elijah

Testimonies Index


ALPHA & OMEGA ALMIGHTYWIND RUACH HA KODESH WILDFIRE LAST CHANCE MINISTRY



www.amightywind.com  |   www.almightywind.com
These are mirror sites, please go to the other if one is off line.

We are Sabbath-Keepers, Not Seventh-Day Adventists
Click Here For More Info


Mailing and Email Addresses




By Faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death: and was not found, because YAHUVEH had translated him: for before his translation he had this testimony, that he pleased YAHUVEH. Hebrews 11:5