The gifts of the Holy Spirit, as presented by the Apostle Paul in his letters to the Corinthians, are spiritual abilities bestowed upon believers by the Holy Spirit for the edification of the church and the advancement of God’s kingdom. This report provides a detailed examination of these gifts, their purpose, and their application as outlined in Paul’s writings, with a focus on their significance in a Christian context.
Context of Paul’s Teaching in Corinthians
In 1 Corinthians, Paul addresses a divided and spiritually immature church in Corinth, where believers were misusing spiritual gifts, leading to pride, disorder, and factionalism. Paul emphasizes that the Holy Spirit bestows these gifts for the “common good” (1 Corinthians 12:7) and that they must be exercised in love (1 Corinthians 13) and with order (1 Corinthians 14). The gifts are diverse but unified in purpose, reflecting the triune God’s work through the body of Christ (the church). Paul lists nine specific gifts in 1 Corinthians 12:8-10. These gifts are supernatural endowments, distinct from natural talents, and are distributed sovereignly by the Spirit (12:11).
Below is a detailed breakdown of each gift as presented:
Word of Wisdom (1 Corinthians 12:8): The ability to apply divine insight or godly perspective to complex situations, reflecting God’s wisdom, which surpasses human understanding (1 Corinthians 2:6-7). They can offer biblically sound counsel to resolve disputes or guide the church in decision-making, ensuring that decisions align with God’s will.
Word of Knowledge (1 Corinthians 12:8): Supernatural insight into specific facts or truths, often revealed by the Spirit without prior human knowledge. It may involve understanding scripture or discerning spiritual realities. Used to edify the church through divine revelation, frequently complementing the word of wisdom.
Faith (1 Corinthians 12:9): An extraordinary, Spirit-given confidence in God’s power and promises, beyond ordinary saving faith. It enables bold trust in God for specific outcomes.
Gifts of Healing (1 Corinthians 12:9, 28, 30): The ability to heal physical, emotional, or spiritual ailments through God’s power, often through prayer or laying on of hands.
Miraculous Powers (1 Corinthians 12:10, 28): The ability to perform supernatural acts beyond healing, such as casting out demons or altering natural events. Also translated as “working of miracles.” Sometimes used to authenticate God’s message and glorify Him through extraordinary signs and wonders.
Prophecy (1 Corinthians 12:10, 28; 14:1–5): Speaking forth a message from God, often for encouragement, exhortation, or conviction. It may include foretelling future events or foretelling God’s truth. Used to edify, encourage, and console the church (14:3), with a focus on clarity and order (14:29–33).
Distinguishing Between Spirits (1 Corinthians 12:10): The ability to discern whether a spiritual manifestation, message, or influence is from God, a human source, or an evil spirit. Identifying a false prophet or demonic influence in a teaching, and to protect the church from deception and maintain doctrinal purity.
Speaking in Tongues (1 Corinthians 12:10, 28, 30; 14:2–28): Speaking in a language unknown to the speaker, either a human language (as in Acts 2) or a spiritual one (1 Corinthians 14:2). Tounges can either be spoken to the church, to commune with God (14:2) or, when interpreted, to edify the church (14:5).
Interpretation of Tongues (1 Corinthians 12:10, 30; 14:13, 26–28): The ability to translate or explain a message spoken in tongues, making it understandable to the church, while edifying the community, not just the individual (14:5, 12).
Key Principles from 1 Corinthians 12–14
Unity in Diversity (12:4–6, 12–27): The gifts are diverse but come from the same Spirit, Lord, and God, reflecting the unity of the Trinity. The church is like a body with many parts; each gift is essential for the well-being of the whole body (1 Cor. 12:12-27). No gift is superior; all serve the common good.
Love as the Foundation (1 Corinthians 13): Paul emphasizes that gifts without love are meaningless (13:1–3). Love is the “most excellent way” (12:31), ensuring gifts are used selflessly to build up others.
Order and edification (1 Corinthians 14): Paul prioritizes gifts that edify the church, like prophecy, over those that primarily benefit the individual, like uninterpreted tongues (14:4–5). He instructs that worship be orderly, with tongues limited to two or three speakers, requiring interpretation, and prophecy judged for accuracy (14:27–33).
References in 2 Corinthians
While 2 Corinthians focuses less on spiritual gifts, Paul indirectly references them in the context of his apostolic ministry:
Signs and Wonders: In 2 Corinthians 12:12, Paul mentions “signs, wonders, and miracles” as marks of a true apostle, aligning with the gifts of miraculous powers and healing.
Empowerment: In 2 Corinthians 3:3–6, the Spirit’s transformative work in believers’ lives suggests ongoing empowerment, possibly tied to gifts like teaching or prophecy.
Theological and Practical Insights
Sovereign Distribution: The Spirit assigns gifts as He wills (12:11), not based on merit.
Christian Values: The gifts align with values like unity (working as one body), love (prioritizing others’ edification), and stewardship (using gifts faithfully). Gifts are for God’s glory, not personal status.
Conclusion
Paul’s teaching in 1 Corinthians 12–14 outlines nine core gifts of the Holy Spirit—word of wisdom, word of knowledge, faith, healing, miraculous powers, prophecy, distinguishing spirits, tongues, and the interpretation of tongues—alongside additional roles such as apostleship, teaching, helping, and administration. These gifts are given for the church’s edification, to be exercised in love and order, reflecting the unity of the body of Christ.
Although I lived through the night, my troubles were far from over. My life would continue, but now the devil had me on the ropes, and although I did not know it, he was coming in to finish me off. He continued to attack me in the hospital and even afterward. Many of his attacks afflicted my body with additional damage. In contrast, my doctors and others tried to persuade me to have a very dangerous operation that I did not need. The devil beset my job and my personal relationships, and when all else failed, he tried to physically kill me with his bare hands. He invoked havoc in my life with a continuous surge of events devised to abort my future and, therein, eradicate the purpose of my life.
Consequently, as much as possible, I blocked these memories from entering my consciousness, as I did not want to dwell upon them or their consequences. I rationalized them away, pretending they were simply one dreadful dream. I then pictured them as small and far away. I put them behind me, and as a result of ignoring what God had shown me that night, I opened myself to the spiritual attacks that would beset me from that moment on. Because of my poor decisions, I was about to experience the reality of living a life without the protection of God and, therefore, have nothing to thwart the attacks of the devil.
I was ashamed of what I encountered and did not share what happened with anyone. I did not realize what God had done for me until years afterward when I recognized that what happened to me was God’s response to my doubting the devil’s existence. Yes, God responded by showing me the truth, not only of the devil’s existence but also the existence of Hell, the Lake of Fire, Spiritual Golgotha, and the Judgment Seat of the Lord. I had not comprehended the blessings that He gave me by revealing the truth of these things. It was not as if I had been punished as I had previously believed, but instead, God removed me from harm in each of these places. Therefore, God gave me the honor of knowing the truth of the reality of these spiritual truths. Unfortunately for me, this belief would only come many years later.
So, from this point forward, I will present how I became an innocent victim of a constant stream of spiritual attacks, not knowing that I had become a target of the devil’s spiritual warfare. These experiences will be chronicled in future postings.
GOD RESPONDS BY LEADING US TO A CHURCH WHERE I WOULD GET A TOUCH FROM GOD
Then, one evening, not long after, I was up in the loft flipping through TV channels, looking for something to watch, when I flipped by a man in a white suit who was talking about God. Something he said at that moment caught my attention and led me to swing back to hear more about what he was communicating. The longer I listened, the more I liked what he had to say. I invited my wife to watch with me, and she also loved his message. We then discovered that this preacher would be speaking at a church in Anaheim, and we decided to see him in person.
I had never been to a charismatic church service before and was unsure what to expect. When we arrived at the church, a long line of people surrounded the sizeable round building, and we walked a significant distance before finding the end of the line. As the line gradually moved forward, we overheard the people in front of us discussing what a big deal it was to have this preacher here.
After quite some time, we entered the church and promptly took some seats. We sat before a 360-degree circulator stage with about ten musicians occupying the stage’s right side and a choir of about forty stood in five rows of bleacher seats on the left.
The service began with the loudest praise and worship music I have ever experienced. I was unfamiliar with most songs they played, but I did my best to keep up with the congregation singing along. People raised their hands while praising God, and I joined them. Throughout all of this experience, I felt a strong desire for a real relationship with God.
After the praise and worship ended, the pastor came to center stage and led the church in prayer. I remember hearing the people sitting next to me praying in a language I believed was Latin, and I wondered what this might mean. I speculated that they were foreigners, but they spoke perfect English before the service. All of this was entirely foreign to me.
Afterward, the pastor introduced the visiting evangelist, who began his preaching by reading several Bible verses and then sermonizing on them. Once he had completed this teaching, he led the people in praising God and invoking the Holy Spirit in song. The entire assembly was reverently engaging in this effort. Then, without any warning, he pushed his right arm around to the far-left side of his body, then quickly pivoted it back past the audience and backward toward the now standing choir while shouting choir, receive your anointing. Amazingly, the entire quire fell in unison into their bleacher seats. I could not believe what I saw as they dropped as if they were all a part of a single unit. They fell so perfectly that it appeared as if a trap door had dropped open under them. I immediately knew that this could not have been a stunt. Even if they practiced for years, they could not achieve this perfect level of synchronization.
God’s anointing hit me as the evangelist’s arm swung past us. I did not fall to my seat with the choir, but I felt something like a bolt of electricity hitting my heart. This powerful charge ignited a burning sensation in my chest that persisted throughout the service. I turned and looked at my wife and said; is this a touch from God? I told her of my experience, and she admitted that she had received this blessing, also. I then looked around the congregation and saw people lying in their seats all over the building as others attended to them. They were down all around us. I knew God was touching people here, and I had received the touch from God I was looking for.
God had once again taken me to where He wanted us to go. He took the initiative by providing a message on TV, and we answered by following His lead to this church.
COMING TO CHRIST
We began attending this ministry regularly immediately after this first visit. The pastor would generally provide an altar call every Sunday, and several people would come to the altar to accept Jesus as their Lord and Saviour each week. For me, it only took a few weeks before I was one of many who stepped forward and gave my life to Christ. I remember the pastor flowing in the spirit that day, having raised one hand high above his head while shouting praises to God as he approached me, his eyes blazing directly at me. I remember thinking there were twenty people up here. Why was he focused on me? He later told me he had discerned a significant shift in the heavenly’s during this alter call. I then acknowledged that the Lord attained a spiritual victory, snatching me out of Satan’s hands.
Despite the evidence that God was behind all my progress, it never occurred to me that I should be thanking Him for delivering me from the calamities inflicted by the devil’s attacks on me. This ignorant and foolish position would soon result in another torrent of aggression as I was still unaware of Spiritual Warfare and had no idea I should turn to God for help.
I had been in the hospital or in-home care for over four months, and my physical condition gradually improved. After being released from the hospital and no longer needing home care, I became restless and desired to return to work. So I proceeded to my company’s personnel department, passed the required physical exam, and started on a restricted work schedule. However, I did all of this despite warnings from my doctors that I was not as strong as I presumed.
A DIFFERENT LIFE
My doctors explained how my medical condition would influence my future life activities. They informed me that pancreatic dysfunctions typically arise from three lifestyle determinants and that I must focus on each to stay healthy. The most treacherous factor would be alcohol consumption; consequently, I would have to stop drinking altogether. The other two factors would be a high-fat diet and a high-stress lifestyle. They were right. When I thought about it, I occasionally drank excessively, ate loads of fatty and deep-fried foods, and had an exceptionally stressful job. I would have to focus on all three.
They further explained that acute pancreas infirmities like what I experienced would likely reoccur without this focus, especially if I began alcohol consumption again. They reinforce their point by providing the following statistics: If I resumed drinking, I would have a ninety-nine percent probability of experiencing a reoccurrence, and such an occurrence would be much more damaging than the first episode, ninety-nine percent of the time. They additionally disclosed that my likelihood of surviving the first attack was one in three. I then realized I would probably die if I began drinking again. Drink or live, that was the question. I chose to live.
STARTING OVER FROM SCRATCH
But I never comprehended how difficult it would be to quit drinking. I was about to find that drinking had become the focus of my interpersonal relationships. Liquor was almost always entangled in my social life and, quite candidly, had become the foundation for many friendships. While interested in numerous activities, I soon realized I did them while drinking. Drinking was a part of the softball leagues, canoe trips, camping, bowling, poker, parties, traveling, and other pursuits. My life activities predominately involved drinking, and I would face a large void without it.
Initially, I believed I could avoid drinking at bars and social events, but when I did, I noticed that my friends, who I still have high esteem, seemed less friendly than before. Sure, they were cordial and gracious every time we got together, but even so, a new distance seemed to exist. It was as if they were skeptical of our friendship since I would not drink with them anymore. I can not fault them since they were right. I was not hanging out with them as often as before.
Then I thought, what the heck? There is no reason I should avoid going to these activities with my friends. I will drink ginger ale or club soda and forget the alcohol. In practice, however, that did not work either. My world-class comedian buddies were not as humorous when I was sober. I saw myself being the stick in the mud—the only one not laughing. Then I thought, well, maybe I will try recreational drugs. Perhaps this will allow me to get down with the crowd. But these drugs only dumbed me down, which was not what I wanted either.
In the end, I dropped out entirely. I started thinking about how few people visited me during my three-month stay in the hospital. I suddenly felt like a stranger and realized my old life was gone! I was also disheartened at home and eventually moved into an apartment about a year later. I needed to reinvent myself—build a new life. I had to change, but into what?
SATAN CALLS
One day shortly afterward, I was alone in my apartment when the phone rang. I answered, and a horrific-sounding voice answered, This is Satan. The voice seemed mechanical, like a monster in a science fiction horror movie. The sound of it was loud, garbled, reverberated, and possessed a ringing tone. It also had several well-defined distinctive octaves. The resulting sound echoed as if numerous individuals were uttering exact phrases but slightly out of synchronization, which created a garbled effect.
You can imagine my horror based on my encounter with Satan in Hell several years prior. I was terrified, trembling, and panicked; I quickly hung up. I reasoned, however, that perhaps this was a prank. Maybe someone was having fun with me—using an electronic device to frighten me. But who would do such a thing? No one I knew would, nor would they have the capability. Besides, I had not told anyone of my encounter with the devil. So, just as before, I tried to put this horrific memory in a faraway place in my mind; I made it small and rationalized it away. But then, just a few days later, an identical incident occurred. I then understood that the devil was relentlessly stalking me again and that his harassment would not likely stop soon.
Somewhat later, I contemplated relocating to another city and was using the National Business Employment Weekly to look for job opportunities. I spotted an ad requesting my skill set and called them. I was enthusiastic about this great prospect and hoped to present my qualifications. Instead, the same garbled voice answered, This is Satan. I replied, what? The voice replied This is Satan. My heart was pounding as I smashed the receiver down. How in the world could this be? You know, sometimes a person just will not read the handwriting on the wall. That was me. Believe it or not, I redialed the number, reasoning that maybe I had misdialed by accident. Astonishingly, the identical thing transpired once again. I hung up, dreading that Satan was still coming after me.
THINGS CHANGE
After that incident, things started looking up for a while. I transferred to the Dallas/Fort Worth area and had a lovely lady in my life who would become my wife. She would eventually play an influential role in helping me through some troublesome times and supporting me in finding the pathway to the Lord. I felt like I was reinventing myself by moving to a new environment and having a new love and home—I was delighted with all these things.
But things were imperfect, as my dad died from a prolonged heart condition. I lost the one person who truly believed in me by losing my dad.
I then began having work-related difficulties. There had been a departmental reorganization, and I ended up working for someone with whom I did not see eye to eye. As time went on, the situation became very strained. Late one night, while my wife was in bed, I found myself pacing the hallway, pondering the consequences of potentially being out of work. I speculated that obtaining another job in the current downturned economy would be difficult. More than anything, I reflected on how letting my wife down by being unemployed would feel. This circumstance became a breaking point for me; I finally gave in, slumped against the wall, and blurted out the words in my heart, Okay, God, I give up. I will do whatever You want me to do.
I did not comprehend it then, but several beautiful transformations began when I surrendered to God that day. God was about to lead me toward a vision of the future, and I would receive His blessings and favor as I walked toward it. I was about to see the manifestations of God’s power and glory. I had been saved from the dreadful fate of the second death and placed on a pathway leading to God’s Glory.
A GLORIOUS VISION
The vision came just a few nights after surrendering to God. It appeared when I was in bed, in that twilight place, somewhere between slumber and consciousness.
I saw a fluorescent orange globe fronting a steel blue-black backdrop. It was gorgeous; its colors were vivid, emitting light from within. Despite the missing oceans, continents, and coloring, I immediately understood that the orange planet was Earth. I knew this because God began inserting knowledge into my brain to help me comprehend what I saw.
Then a small black arrowhead-shaped object emerged above the North Pole, and the idea of it being a shuttle entered my mind. The shuttle trekked due Southward leaving a thin black stripe across the Earth’s sky before vanishing over the Southern Pole. Shortly afterward, it reappeared at the North Pole, now orbiting on a new longitude and eventually disappearing beyond the South Pole again. It then persisted in this manner, drawing the longitudes over the Earth until it had printed the major longitudes across the face of the Earth, leaving the planet resembling a peeled orange.
With the longitudes printed, the shuttle emerged at the Eastern Equator, traversing the Earth on a Westerly course while circling the planet until it had painted its significant latitudes across the sky. When completed, the sphere looked like a globe of the Earth, like one you may find in a school room or office, except for its bright orange color and lack of oceans and continents.
As I watched in amazement, the skin of a single orange slice (that space between two of the Earth’s longitudes) began peeling back, starting at the top and then curling downward into a scroll shape at the Equator, exposing an astonishingly beautiful pink underlayer. Each section then, one at a time, in sequence, unwound identically. When completed, a gorgeous pink upper hemisphere was visible above the coiled-up orange skins at the Equator. As I watched, The silky pink exterior revealed itself to be the petals of a tightly wound blossom that began maturing. I saw new growth forming and growing from the flower’s nucleus. This expansion forced the outer petals to flow over the periphery, creating a cascade of pink petals streaming downward.
I was awestruck by the majestic beauty of this ever-expanding flower. I couldn’t help but continue observing this awe-inspiring sight but then wondered if I might be dreaming. I pondered, what would happen if I reopened my eyes? So, I opened them and lifted my head, and looked around my bedroom. To my astonishment, I could see the flower superimposed over the features of my darkened room. It was as if my retinas had semi-transparent videos projected onto them. Even though I did not understand how this could occur, I instantly reclosed my eyes, not wanting to miss any part of this captivating experience. Next, I started to wonder why this was happening to me. Why should I know this, and what importance should this be to me?
Then unexpectedly, everything around me began moving. My vantage point to the flowering globe rotated ninety degrees, such that my view was directly over the hub of the flowering planet, precisely where the new growth had arisen at the North Pole. Afterward, a hole dilated open there, and an unseen force drew me inside. I looked around and realized that I was at the feet of a Jesus, who filled the Earth from pole to pole. When I looked up into the immaculate clarity of this place, I saw His outstretched arms and somehow knew He was delivering blessings to the souls of the Earth. At this point, all of my vision’s heavenly peace faded away.
Interestingly, I received this vision of a world filled with Jesus just a few days after surrendering to God. I was unsure of what this meant then, but the reality is that everything in my life would rapidly change for the better from this point forward.
The spiritual warfare over me continued, although I experienced a significant improvement in my condition over the several months in the hospital. At one point, my doctors informed me that I was well enough to be placed on home care, and I was very excited about the possibility of being home again. The insurance company, however, mysteriously refused to approve it even though it would have saved them thousands of dollars. Then, after getting approval after weeks of haggling and going home, a Strep infection developed that nearly killed me. I knew nothing about spiritual warfare then, and therefore, I became a human punching bag for the devil, repeatedly absorbing his punches, not knowing I was in a spiritual war. The story details follow below; however, if you care to catch up on my prior postings that are a prelude to this story, use the following links:
As the second opinion predicted (MY MEAGER ATTEMPT TO FIND GOD BRINGS A MIRACLE), I began to feel considerably better and stronger. I no longer naped several times a day and had my weight under control. However, I continued having digestion difficulties that kept me attached to an IV that pumped life-giving fluids directly into my aorta. With more awake time, I roamed the hospital corridors out of boredom, often rolling my IV equipment behind me.
Nevertheless, my family physicians believed I was out of serious trouble and should be discharged from the hospital and placed on a home care program, where I could administer my own IV feedings. The primary benefit would be being at home with my family. However, the insurance company rejected this proposal even though they had considerable financial gain to do so. Eventually, after endeavoring to sway the insurance company administrators, my family doctor resorted to calling an insurance company executive to confirm the home care authorized for me. I was blessed to have this man in my corner, making things happen for me throughout this ordeal and returning me home.
After spending almost three months in the hospital, it was really good to return home. On the first day home, a home care team arrived at my house and delivered the IV equipment and a small refrigerator they would fill with bags of IV solutions. They also instructed me to safely attach myself to the IV and set up and manage the IV equipment. I would be responsible for adequately connecting the IV equipment to my catheter each day at the appropriate times from that point forward. The home care team would then deliver the sugar water and vitamin solutions each week, and we established a delivery schedule with them. The only other thing I had to do was attend prescheduled medical check-ups, ensuring that everything was progressing as expected.
THE INFECTION STRIKES
For the first few weeks, the home care program was working well. Then, one day, and for no apparent reason, I suffered what I would describe as an intense cold chill accompanied by uncontrollable quivers. During this episode, my body shook and convulsed for roughly ten minutes. Covering myself with blankets did not remedy the situation; eventually, my lips turned blue. Suddenly, however, the chills ran their course and ended just as abruptly as they had begun. My wife immediately drove me to the hospital, where they performed a series of tests. When I spoke with the doctors after they reviewed the test results, they found nothing wrong. This feedback worried me because I knew the severity of the attack. Because I was concerned about having another attack, I verified that they knew the history of my pancreatic illness, and I was on home care, attaching IVs to the catheter in my chest. I was shocked when they told me it was likely nothing and that I should not worry about it. I recall leaving the hospital and thinking that perhaps something was wrong with my home care function. After all, what else could it be? But then I supposed they get paid top dollar to diagnose problems for people like me. After all, they are doctors. They went through years of training and education and should be able to figure this out. They are professionals, after all. They know what they are doing, right?
About a week to ten days later, when I just began believing that the doctors were right, the chills hit me again but were much worse this time. I’m unsure how long they lasted, but when the convolutions quit, I had nothing left; all my energy was gone. I believed that this occurrence was a severe reversal of my overall health plan. After the episode had settled down, I mustered up enough strength to travel to the hospital again, where the doctors performed an even more comprehensive set of tests. Unfortunately, the results were the same. They found nothing amiss and sent me home again. Yes, I once again made sure that they knew about the circumstances of my illness and my home care treatment. They seemingly could not tie the pieces together. They suggested that if they could see me having an episode, they might be able to determine the cause of these mysterious shivers and convulsions.
After another week, I was in my family doctor’s office for a routine check-up when a third chill episode materialized. It began while the doctor examined me on his exam table. When the shivering started, my physician had his nurse wrap me with blankets, but they were inadequate in warming me. I then saw my lips turning blue in the mirror across the room. The convulsions were much more violent this time, and my fingers and toes became numb. My muscles were quickly becoming fatigued and began cramping. My doctor then checked my heartbeat with his stethoscope. As he listened, I could feel the irregular rhythm of my heartbeat, and I knew he was also hearing it. I looked up at his face and saw it slowly turn pale. His wide-open eyes reflected fear, and I knew he believed that I was dying right there in his office. His reactions reflected the seriousness of my situation. While I also deemed I was sick enough to die, I again declined to let pessimistic thoughts into my mind regardless of my circumstances. Just like before, I knew that I would recover.
When my body started shaking even more violently, a nurse covered me with her body to provide additional warmth. The paramedics arrived, and they wheeled me out through the patient waiting room on a gurney, where I witnessed the horror and disgust on the faces of the people as I passed by them thrashing. As before, however, the violent shaking suddenly stopped, but this time, it was in the ambulance on the highway to the hospital. The doctors there must have received information from the paramedics and concluded that there might be something wrong with my catheter because they removed it as a precautionary measure. Or perhaps my doctor called ahead and told them to remove it.
Afterward, tests confirmed my original suspicions. A Staph infection was growing on the end of the catheter inside my aorta. According to the doctor, the staff formed a chain of infectious material that extended as time passed. Once it reached a critical length, the strand would break and be instantaneously released into my heart, causing these violent reactions.
SIGNIFICANCE TO THE VISION
I did not know it then, but I was once again the target of spiritual warfare. Satan kept hitting me, but I didn’t know to seek the protection of God. God was trying to get my attention, but I was not responding.
I had stopped believing in the existence of the devil. As a consequence, I quickly suffered a life-threatening condition that sent me to the hospital, fighting for my life. I passed over into the spiritual realm, where I experienced the realities of the devil, hell, the Lake of Fire, and the Judgement Seat, where I stood before God with stains on my garments.
Although I returned to life, the devil had me on the ropes, and although I did not know it, he was coming in to finish me off. He continued attacking me in the hospital as I fought for my life. In my previous two postings, he attempted to suffocate me (MY ABILITY TO BREATH IS ATTACKED) and starve me to death (UNABLE TO GET ENOUGH NUTRITION TO SURVIVE .) In this posting, he persuaded my doctors to get me to consent to a risky and unneeded operation. He repeatedly brought mayhem into my life with a relentless wave of events designed to abort my destiny and life purpose.
Led to Read the Bible
Somewhere along the way, I picked up a Bible, conceding that it may be an appropriate time to reach out to God. I began by reading the book of Matthew and finished the book by reading just a few chapters each day. However, the words I read didn’t resonate with me then. The book delivered a series of beautiful accounts of Jesus’ life, but I could not grasp their spiritual implications. I subsequently resumed my reading program by reading Mark, but after a while, I gave up. Little did I know, however, that God would reward my meager attempt to move closer to Him.
BAD NEWS COMES
After being in the hospital for two months, a staff surgeon came to discuss the results of my recent CAT scan. He said the test confirmed my pseudocysts were not reabsorbing into my pancreas as hoped. He also stated that leaving them in this condition would be risky. He then delivered a long list of the perils of avoiding this operation and strongly advised me to have it done.
I inquired about the risks of surgery and found that the operation required a fifteen-inch cut in my abdomen and the removal of my stomach, kidneys, and some intestines. These steps are necessary to access the pancreas, which is positioned near the spine and is otherwise unreachable. The pseudocysts would then be lanced and sewn onto the inside wall of the intestines, giving them a safe place to drain. Once completed, they would reinstate the removed organs and stitch me up. The physicians justified the risk associated with the operation because of the significant, possibly fatal, episodes that would occur without it.
However, the complexity and risk of this procedure seemed unreasonable to me. After all, I felt from the first day that my body would heal and I would recover. I declined to let pessimistic sentiments from the physician change my mind regarding my outcome. It seemed to me that the operational risks were higher than the potential injury from a pancreas malfunction sometime in the future. I did not want to die on the operating table. This surgery seemed to be an intrinsically bad idea to me. It seemed wrong in my head and my gut.
A HEALING MIRACLE FOLLOWS UNWAVERING FAITH
Nevertheless, some in my family felt differently. Of course, they knew much better than I, just how fortunate I was to be alive. After a discussion with them, I searched for the right decision for quite some time, eventually choosing to get a second opinion. So, I contacted my family doctor to see if he could help. He investigated and found an experienced pancreatic specialist who worked in another hospital across town. So, I asked my family doctor to set things up for me.
Little did I know what a firestorm I started by bringing in a physician from another hospital. My view was that I wanted the best I could find and needed to comprehend why anyone would do differently. I also knew a second opinion by another doctor in the same practice would have political implications, which could sway opinion toward their colleague’s original findings. I wanted a fresh set of eyes and an open and independent mind. Fortunately, my family doctor did an extraordinary job playing the middleman in making this transpire. He pulled all the strings required to get the second opinion set up.
On the morning the second opinion exam was scheduled, I was sitting in bed, listening to the nurses and the doctors talking in the hallway about the outrage of having an outsider evaluate me. Everyone in the building was talking about this issue. They were insulted that such a thing could occur. With all the fuss they were generating, you would have thought that someone had robbed a bank, and maybe that is what it was all about.
In any case, the doctor showed up and did an excellent job. He asked me multiple questions, examined me, reviewed my records, and ordered another battery of tests, including CAT scans, X-rays, and blood tests.
A few weeks later, he reported his findings and their surprising consequences. He conveyed that by comparing the most recent CAT scan with the previous one, he discovered that my pseudocysts were being reabsorbed into my pancreas—they were shrinking! He, therefore, forecasted they would vanish within three to six months. My body was healing! What great news!
Jesus is the Light of the World
Looking back on it now, it is apparent that something transpired between my first and second series of examinations. That something was that I had desired to find God by picking up a Bible and reading it. Regardless of how feeble my effort was, God responded with a healing miracle! Yes, that is right. When I thought about it, the physicians could do nothing but offer a risky surgery, resulting in a patch job while causing much damage to my body and organs. On the other hand, God gave me a genuine healing that returned my body and organs to their original state without damage or risk.
My faith that I would be healthy without the surgery is something God put in me that first night in the hospital. God honored my attempt to find Him, and it did not matter that I found the experience lacking. It was as if God was responding to me, “Okay, son; you took one step in My direction, and you thought nothing would come of it. But you have My heart. I am going to show you that I am real. I desire that you live.”
As was communicated in all the other incidents I have reported in this blog, God was there for me again. He continued watching over and protecting me, even though I did not know it. I often wonder why the Lord would have loved me so. After all, He saved me from the lake of fire (SWIMMING IN THE LAKE OF FIRE AND BRIMSTONE) and brimstone, the pit of hell, and the devil’s savagery (MY EXPERIENCES IN HEAVEN AND HELL). He has given me life even though I stood before Him on Judgment Day with the stains of sin on my garments. Nothing could be more significant than being saved from these things. Later, He would heal me simply because I attempted to find Him by reading the Bible.
Sweet God in heaven, I praise Your holy and sacred name. I praise You for loving someone unworthy of Your love, who could not have changed the error of his ways without Your loving care.
The truth is that God was willing to develop a closer relationship with me then, but I was not ready. I still had not recognized that He was my protector and healer, so I did not give Him the praise he deserved for doing so. However, by not giving credit to God for my healing, and since I had not renounced my disbelief in the devil’s existence, my penalty would be that the spiritual warfare over me would continue.
DISAGREEMENTS ABOUT THE GOOD NEWS
When the hospital staff acquired the second opinion report, I expected they would oppose it. I expected the hospital surgeons’ warnings that I would encounter severe consequences without the surgery. I remember thinking, “After all, a surgeon only makes big money when they operate, right?” However, the surgeon was not the only one encouraging me to go ahead and have the surgery. Members of my family also tried to persuade me to have the procedure. After all, I understand that they were afraid of losing me.
I, therefore, abandoned the plan for a risky surgery and accepted the path of natural recovery because I believed in a good report before there was one to contemplate. I knew I did not need the operation, and I told my hospital doctors and everyone else of this belief. Many people tried to change my mind, but I declined them all.
The hospital physicians tried several strategies to get me to recant my decision not to have the operation. I, however, was always unwavering and to the point. Eventually, they pressed me so hard that I had to tell them this was the end of the line rudely. There would be no more discussions about an operation.
Interestingly enough, I encountered the top surgeon who recommended the operation on an airport shuttle bus several years later. I was in much better health by then, and he may not have recognized me, so I reintroduced myself. Would you believe that he started preaching to me about the operation again? He did not get the message. He refused to accept the test results that confirmed that the pseudocysts had disappeared and that there was nothing to operate on!
In my next posting, you will learn about my insurance company blocking my ability to go on home care despite my doctor’s recommendations. After being in the hospital for almost three months, and even though they would save tons of money doing so, they persistently blocked my ability to go home. You can find it here: TBD. Until then, remember to:
SOME BACKGROUND INFORMATION REGARDING THIS NUTRITIONAL DEFICIENCY POSTING
This posting reports one of several spiritual attacks by the devil devised to destroy my life and purpose. I did not know much about spiritual warfare at the time. As a result, I became a punching bag for the forces of evil, struck repeatedly. I write this to inform the unknowing souls who may wonder why things like this may be happening to them. To better understand what happened to me before I had nutrition deficiencies issues and provide context for this experience, I have included the following links: BACK FROM DEATH,
Although I miraculously lived through that first night in the ICU, my troubles were far from over. As strange as this may sound, I did not heed the Judgment Day messages I experienced that first night in the hospital. I have communicated these experiences in a series of prior postings; I have shared how a life-threatening illness sent me to the emergency room, where the doctors did not expect me to live through the night. As I drifted closer to death, my spirit left my body, and I experienced the truth of our spiritual reality. I traveled through space and time to Spiritual Golgotha. There, I swam in the Lake of Fire (also called the Second Death), where I experienced unimaginable horrors. God then moved me to Hell, where Satan confronted me, and I experienced his incredible hatred of me and watched in horror as he attempted to destroy me, but God fastened his feed to the ground. God removed me from there and moved me to the Judgment Seat of Christ. There I heard the words from God that no one wants to hear: “Why should you live?”If you wish to catch up on the details of what happened, use the following links:
My life would continue despite being very sick, but now the devil had me on the ropes, and although I did not know it at the time, he was coming in to finish me off.
He continued to attack me repeatedly in the hospital as I fought for my life. Several of his attacks damaged my body, while others aggravated my job situation and relationships. In my previous posting, the devil attempted to suffocate me (MY ABILITY TO BREATH IS ATTACKED.) When all else failed, he persuaded my doctors to have me consent to a dangerous but unnecessary operation. He repeatedly brought mayhem into my life with a relentless series of events designed to abort my destiny and life purpose. In today’s posting, I will present how he attempted to starve me to death.
PROBLEMS WITH IV FEEDINGS
After I had been on continuous IV feedings for quite a while in the hospital, my physicians grew concerned about maintaining my weight and health. So they resolved to see if I was healthy enough to eat natural foodstuffs again. They gradually introduced a liquid diet, and when that was successful, they pursued placing me on a soft food diet. Everything went well for about a week, but unexpectedly, the digestive enzyme levels in my blood shot up dramatically again. This condition is a sign that my damaged pancreas was overproducing these enzymes again, entering my bloodstream, and decomposing all the proteins in my body organs again.
So, they halted all food intake until my enzyme levels turned back down, and when they did about a week later, they reinstated the same meal plan strategy. Unfortunately, my enzyme levels shot up again, and they suspended the feeding program for a second time. Through all of this, the IV feedings never ceased, and their effect began to take its toll as the veins in my arms, legs, hands, and feet broke down. Things were getting more alarming, and I wondered if the doctors had a resolution to this problem.
I was gradually moving toward a no-win crisis. I could not eat, and my large veins had broken down, forcing the nurses to use smaller ones, reducing the amount of nourishment I could obtain in a day. At this time, I was hooked up to the IV 24 hours a day, and it was becoming increasingly challenging to locate a vein, as making several stick attempts had now become a common practice.
INSERTING A CATHETER IN MY AORTA
After agonizing about this predicament for quite some time, my physicians eventually resolved to take the risk of inserting a semi-permanent catheter into my Aorta. That’s correct, through the center of my chest and incredibly close to my heart. They were reluctant to perform this operation because one slip could result in permanent heart damage. Please note that the catheter insertion point in the diagram below is of the modern-day practice that moves the entry point away from the heart, most likely for safety reasons.
However, there were several advantages to taking the risk. One benefit is that it would solve my nutritional needs issues. Once this catheter was in place, I would get all the nutrition required in four hours. Secondly, it was considerably more straightforward to use; merely attach an IV bag to the catheter and eliminate the needle sticks. Things would become more comfortable and pain-free. I could get up and move about more frequently as I would no longer constantly have an IV bag holding me back.
They performed the Catheter insertion procedure in my hospital room, and I was conscious throughout the operation as the physicians required feedback from me. They began by cutting a small opening in my chest so they could gain access to the Aorta from between two of my ribs. Then they injected the catheter through that hole and inserted it into my Aorta. But as fate would have it, they encountered considerable trouble piercing my Aortic wall. The Doc had to gradually exert increasing levels of force to propel the catheter into the artery. This exertion persisted for several minutes until, finally, the physician leveraged all of his strength and body weight to get the job done. As all of this was happening, I became very concerned as I recollected the danger warnings they gave me before the procedure began. But the catheter finally pierced the aorta wall, creating a loud sound like the crushing of a giant beetle’s shell as the catheter punctured the Aorta wall. The good news is that the operation was a success. There were no slips, thank God. I was delighted and relieved that this ordeal was over.
SOME BACKGROUND INFORMATION REGARDING THIS BREATHING PROBLEM POSTING
This posting reports one of several spiritual attacks by the devil devised to destroy my life and purpose. I did not know much about spiritual warfare at the time. As a result, I became a punching bag for the forces of evil, struck repeatedly. I write this to inform the unknowing souls who may wonder why things like this may be happening to them. To better understand what happened to me before I had breathing issues at the hospital and provide context for this experience, I have included the following links: BACK FROM DEATH,
Breathing Problems
One morning, soon after relocating from the ICU to a conventional hospital room, I began having problems getting enough air into my lungs to talk. I notified the nurse’s station and was alarmed when they considered my breathing difficulty insignificant. They declined to do anything, proposing I wait for my physician to come around on his usual rounds. But I had been in the hospital long enough to know that, at a minimum, this could take several hours and that it was also possible for the doctor not to show up at all.
I became very concerned when my disorder began to worsen rapidly. Since I did not want to leave things to chance, I called home, and they convinced my family physician to visit the hospital. He found that my vocal cords had swollen and restricted my airflow. He explained that digestive enzymes had damaged my vocal cords when I vomited entering the hospital. He stated that if left unaddressed, a total blockage would eventually result, and I would suffocate. He ordered that I be placed on oxygen immediately and scheduled a tracheotomy for the following day.
The operation required that the physician enter through a cut in the lower part of my neck. They then had to cut a hole in my windpipe just below my swollen vocal cords and then insert a small metal tube into that hole. This pipe mechanism ensured a passageway remained open, allowing air to flow into my lungs even when my vocal cords closed completely. This device became my lifeline to the oxygen I needed for the next several weeks.
This event was just one of several attempts by the devil to end my life during my hospital stay. His next attack would be on my digestive system. I have listed the subsequent attacks below for those who may be interested.
Although I miraculously lived through that first night, my troubles were far from over. My life would continue, but now the devil had me on the ropes, and although I did not know it at the time, he was coming in to finish me off.
He continued attacking me in the hospital as I fought for my life. Several of his attacks damaged my body, while others aggravated my job standing and relationships. When all else failed, he influenced my doctors to persuade me to consent to a risky and unneeded operation. He repeatedly brought mayhem into my life with a relentless wave of events designed to abort my destiny and life purpose.
This entire encounter was so unbelievably dreadful and depressing that I often doubted if these terrifying experiences could even be real. So, I blocked all my reflections of that night because I no longer wanted to dwell upon them or think about their consequences. I rationalized them away as being nothing more than an awful dream. I pictured them as being very small and far away in my mind. Unfortunately, the consequence of these measures is that they exposed me to a new series of demonic attacks. I was about to experience the truth of living without God to block the devil’s attacks.
THE NEXT FEW WEEKS
I spent the next few weeks in the intensive care unit (ICU), and quite frankly, I could not have been any sicker. It was so bad that I remember thinking, “oh well, at least I’m still alive.”
The doctors confirmed that my pancreas was the problem. They explained that it had exploded into hyper-production, generating thousands of times the required volume of digestive enzymes and discharging most of them into my bloodstream. They said that these digestive enzymes decompose proteins resulting in massive deterioration over most of my body. My blood, veins, arteries, muscles, nerves, organs, bones, and brain were all decomposing. That would explain my sensations of needles and pins all over my body and the numbness I felt after I entered the hospital.
The physicians continued to divulge that this hyper-production of digestive enzymes created immense pressure on the internal lining of the pancreas. This force became so powerful that it forced the inner lining through the outer wall, forming a balloon-shaped cyst outside the pancreas. The doctors called it a pseudo-cyst, and they deemed it to be a potentially deadly condition. They articulated that even though my pseudo-cyst was leaking, it had not yet ruptured. Eventually, it would harden and break open, abruptly releasing massive quantities of digestive enzymes into my bloodstream, creating even more impairment to my body. My surgeons said my pseudo-cysts were a ticking time bomb and would require defusing before this explosion struck me.
Even worse they did not have a medical solution to my condition, and I believed that surgery was on their minds and in their hearts from the very start. I also knew I was not strong enough for surgery then, as my body needed to heal and gain strength.
In the meantime, the physicians proceeded with a recuperation strategy founded on food abstinence. They asserted that total fasting would slow enzyme production considerably because food consumption activates the digestive processes. Beginning this program would also give my body time to purge itself of the harmful toxins in my blood. To confirm that the program was working, they monitored my blood regularly. Within a week, they declared that my enzyme levels were consistently descending.
I made it through the first few weeks without eating anything and lost 30 pounds in the process. They then started IV feedings that consisted of sugar water and vitamins. The physicians said afterward that my body responded as desired, and I had gained strength. While this was good news, I still felt very sick.
THE STENCH OF DEATH
It was more than physically feeling very sick, however. I began to sense there was something very different about my behavior. One thing that I noticed was my inappropriate speech. Vulgarities were now flowing out of my mouth, seemingly with every sentence I uttered. For some reason, I did not seem to care who it offended as I spared no one from my bad speech, not my mother, father, or even my children. Physicians and nurses were daily victims, and things like my handwritten notes strangely included vulgarities. It was so bad that even though it was clear to me, I seemingly could not stop. I wondered to myself, why am I saying such disgusting things? It was obvious to everyone around me that my vocabulary had changed. In reality, the stench of death was all over me. I was still alive and in this world, but the scent of death had wrapped me like a blanket.
My mind was also influenced. My thoughts were of sensual pleasures and flirting with nurses. This conduct was inconceivable for someone so sick that they could die at any moment. I recall thinking, what is wrong with you? You’re so ill you cannot stay awake for more than an hour at a time, and you are harboring these absurd thoughts?
Not knowing that I was in a war for my life (spiritual warfare) allowed me to become a punching bag for evil. In my next posting, I will communicate how being unable to digest food became the next punch threatening my life. This will be followed by a series of punches through my stay in the hospital, followed by a breakthrough that started my journey back to God.
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SEEKING JESUS 