Fabio Mir Testimony

LCpl., C & E Schools, Marine Combat Center, Twenty Nine Palms, California

My mother and father separated when I was three years old.  My dad moved to Florida, while my mother, sister, and I stayed in Philadelphia.  My earliest memories go back to when I was four years old, my mother had a boyfriend, George, who was a Vietnam Vet.  [Vietnam Veteran -Ed.]  Whenever George was alone with me, he would usually hit me, or pull out some of my hair, or make me run around if I was tired or not.  I always remember my hope set on my mom coming back home or getting out of the shower.

When I was five, I would be sent to a nursery, and the old lady there would often hit the children with her cane if they got on her nerves.  By then I was used to much harsher treatment, and I didn't really cry, except once.  During recess, we would wait in line for a little cup of water, and the old lady would make sure our shoes were tied before we could get any water.  Well, I remember it being my turn to get a cup, and she started screaming about my shoes being untied.  I looked down, and there they were, laces just hanging out, lying on the floor.  The next thing I felt was a constant pounding on my back as her cane hit me, and was raised in the air for one blow after another.

That was the first, and only time I can remember crying in front of her.  But, I'll never forget the high school volunteer as she tied my shoes, and brought me a cup of water, and told me that everything's OK.  It was instances like that, that drove me to figure things out for myself, because I couldn't (I was afraid to) ask anybody at home to teach me.  But, after hours of trying to figure out the secret of tying shoes, I finally asked George, and he taught me, (there is some good in him!).

Well, time went on, and I don't remember George ever leaving, I just know he was gone.  I never saw him again.  I grew up with a lot of anger.   My mom had a different boyfriend, and at his apartment building, one of his neighbors would teach me and my sister, stories from the Bible.  He taught us how to pray, and I prayed often, many times for self wishing reasons.

My sister and I started visiting my father in Florida during the summertime.  He taught us his beliefs of spiritual soul travel, and how to meditate, and go into a trance like state so we could leave our bodies.  I would have a lot of recurring nightmares as a child.  I was thought to be dead by everybody, and they would cast me into pure dark emptiness, and I could never go back.  I used to really hate these nightmares, and now I know that it was Satan's angels tormenting a lost soul.

One night, when I was about seven years old, and I was in Florida visiting my dad, I saw a movie that I thought had all of the answers to life.  It was a movie about revenge, and getting revenge by murdering people who reminded him of the ones he really hated.  It was called, "Friday the 13th".  I was fascinated with this movie, I thought it was funny, and the murderer (Jason Vorhees) became my idol.

My aunt one day asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up, and I told her with all honesty (telling the truth was a rare thing for me), that, "I wanted to chop people's heads off."  She thought I was joking, and didn't pay much attention.  I used to go out with my cousin, and we would kill frogs and lizards, and whatever.  We thought of many different ways of torture before we finally put them to death.  We were real sick kids.

Life went on, and I was always curious about psychic phenomenon, and all of that witchcraft "spiritual" stuff.  I didn't really start getting into the ideas until high school.  Before high school, I never spoke much to people, because I thought they didn't know how things were on the inside of their hearts.  I knew what I wanted, power!  Then I just wanted to, "get out of this world."

For a time I thought it was fun stealing people's coats, partying, and stealing things from cars.  It just caused more problems.  I would lose what heart was left, and even turn my back on my friends.

One day, I decided I was going to find truth.  I already had some weird ideas that I thought were true, and I thought I had to utilize the powers to gain more understanding.  By the time I made this decision, I was out of high school, after attending four different schools.  My father lived in Maryland, a lot closer to Philadelphia than Florida.  So I figured if I got away from everybody, and visited my dad, he would be at work all day, and I could meditate as long as I wished.  Hopefully I would find some truth in my short life.  My dad wanted me to get a job, and asked me about the US Coast Guards because a couple months earlier, I told him I might join.  So my father drove me to the recruiting station to check it out.  While I was in the car, I thought to myself, and I figured I'll just go to the Marine Corps recruiter.  I did, and I joined.  My family was shocked, even my dad.  Nobody was all that excited, or too happy because they were afraid of war.

It was now time for me to go to boot camp.  I was bringing with me this book that was supposedly written by some guy in the 19th century who was show, "God's Book of Remembrances."  It was a book about Jesus' teachings that Christ is a consciousness, and we can all reach Him.  He came to lead the path, and He was supposedly to have gained this "Christ consciousness" over several life times.  At the MEPS place, I was handed a Gideon New Testament.  I read both books in boot camp, but my mind was still corrupted with the thought that I had to reach "Christ consciousness."  I was trying to change my life around, but I noticed my heart was still pretty much the same.

After almost a year of trying to please God without faith in his Son, I met some Christians at the Pioneer Days carnival in 29 Palms, CA, and they told me about Jesus.  I was stationed at the Marine Combat Center, and a student in the Communications and Electronics School.  At the carnival I gave Mel Gerrard my address, and he sent me a Bible, and also a book.  The books was, "Prison to Praise," by Merlin Carothers.  I read the testimony of Merlin, and I was pretty touched.

One night in December 1995, I prayed and confessed my sin.  I asked Jesus to dwell in my heart.  The next night was a normal night.  I was still in San Diego with a couple of my friends, and were sitting outside of a Mexican restaurant.  One of my friends went to check out a place where he heard some music playing.  After about five minutes he came running back, and told us to come see something.  So, I followed him, and he led me to a little office space that had a room filled with chairs, and there was a small stage.  A band was playing music for Jesus, and the people were clapping and singing.  I saw Jesus in all of them, and I knew I didn't have what they had.  A tear came to  my eye, but I tried to hold it back.  I felt a lump in my throat, and my lip started curling.  Finally I felt a big wave of love sweep over me, and  I just cried and cried.  God was telling me that "he loves me no matter how unfaithful I am."  All my sins just went through my mind as I just kept crying.  Somebody saw me, and he came over.  He didn't ask me what was wrong, just hugged me, and told me "Let it all out."  Finally, I was finished crying, and looked at the guy who was comforting me.  I asked him if he had the Holy Spirit.  I thought somebody had to give the Holy Spirit to you.  Then he asked me, Have you ever received Jesus as Lord and Savior?"  I said, "Right now."  I was so happy because I knew that the Bible is true, and Jesus lives forever in my heart.  My friends couldn't understand what had happened to me that night.  In five minutes I had just changed, and was telling them, "Jesus was in the little office church!"

Later that night, I saw a car pull over, and a man lying in the middle of the street.  I told my friend, Jeff, to pull over.  We asked the man from another car,  "What's happened?"  He said, "I pulled over when I saw this guy in the street."  So we got the street guy, and carried him to the curb.  I smelled alcohol on his breath.  The gentleman from the other car went to get a blanket from his trunk.  I looked at the drunk man, and told him, "Jesus loves you."  He just looked at me with eyes that just seemed to say, "I know!"  After the guy with the blanket came back, I tried to leave, but the drunk man wouldn't let go of me.  I asked him if he would be all right if I left, and knowing that Jesus loves him?  He shook his head, yes.  I got back into the car, and as we drove away, he just watched our car go.  I never saw him, or the other man again.  We even drove by a little later that night, and there was no sign of him.

Since then, I have been making new friends, Christian brothers, and my heart goes out to the lost.  I feel that if I was never told the truth, I would burn in hell, and I don't want somebody to burn in hell because I didn't mention the salvation that is freely theirs.

My heart goes totally to the Lord, and I never want to return to the darkness where there is no love, only self and illusions.

Thank you Jesus for your perfect and full love that drove you to die on the cross for me.  Praise your Name forever.  Give God the Glory!

--Fabio Mir