Celebrity Testimony 8 Ben Carson (Gifted Hands Neurosurgeon)

Ben Carson Gifted Hands: Chapter 3 Eight Years Old: I had my first religious experience when I was 8 years old. A natural born storyteller, Pastor Ford told of a missionary doctor and his wife being chased by robbers in a far off country. At last gasping with exhaustion the couple stopped short at a cliff. They were trapped. Suddenly, right at the edge of the cliff, they saw a small break in the rock just big enough for them to crawl into and hide. When the robbers reached the end of the cliff seconds later they couldn't find the doctor and his wife. They had just vanished. After screaming and cursing the robbers left. As I listened the picture became so vivid that I felt as if I were being chased. I visualized myself being pursued. My breath became shallow with panic and fear and desperation of that couple. When the bandits finally left I sighed with relief of being safe. Pastor Ford looked over the congregation, "The couple were sheltered and protected," he told us. "They were hidden in the cleft of the rock and God protected them from harm." The sermon over we began to sing the "appeal song" That morning the pastor had selected "He Hides My Soul in the Cleft of the Rock" he built his appeal around the missionary story and explained our need to flee to "the cleft of the rock" to safety that can only be found in Jesus Christ. "If we place our faith in the Lord," he said with a gaze sweeping across the faces of the congregation, "we'll always be safe. Safe in Jesus Christ." As I listened my imagination pictured how wonderfully God had taken care of those people who wanted to serve him. Through my imagination and emotions I lived that story with the couple, and I thought,"Thats exactly what I should do get sheltered in the cleft of the rock." Although I was only eight my decision seemed perfectly natural. Other kids my age were getting baptized and joining the church so when the message and music touched me emotionally, I responded. When Pastor Ford asked if anyone wanted to turn to Jesus Christ Curtis and I both went up to the front of the church. A few weeks later we were both baptized. I was basically a good kid and had never done anything particularly wrong, yet for the first time I knew I needed Gods help. During the next four years I tried to follow the teachings I received at church. That morning set another milestone for me. I decided I wanted to be a doctor, a missionary doctor. Each story of medical missionaries traveling through villages in Africa or India intrigued me. Reports came to us of the physical suffering the doctors relieved and how they helped people to lead happier and healthier lives. "That's what I want to do," I said to my mother as we walked home. "I want to be a doctor. Can I be a doctor, Mother?" "Bennie," she said, "listen to me." We stopped walking and mother stared into my eyes. The laying hands on my shoulders, she said, "If you ask the lord for something and believe he will do it, then it'll happen." "I believe I can be a doctor." "Then, Bennie, you will be a doctor," she said matter of-factly ,and we started to walk again. After mother's word of assurance, I never doubted what I wanted to do with my life. Ben Carson(Gifted Hands Neurosurgeon) Chapter5 A Boys Big Problem: When I was 12 and more mature I realized that although Id been emotionally touched when I was 8 and had been baptized I hadn't understood exactly what it meant to be a Christian. By the time I was 12 we had moved and were attending the Sharon Seventh day Adventist Church in Inkster. After days of thinking about the matter I spoke with Pastor Smith," Although Ive been baptized," I said, "I didn't really grasp the significance of what I was doing." "You do understand now?" "Oh yes Im 12 now," I said," and I believe in Jesus Christ. After all Jesus was 12 when his parents first took him to the temple in Jerusalem. So Id like to be baptized again because I understand and Im ready now." Pastor Smith listened sympathically and having no problem with my request he rebaptized me. Yet in looking back Im not sure when I actually turned to God. Or perhaps it happened so gradually that I had no awareness of the progression. I do know when I was 14 I finally understood how God can change us. Ben Carson(Gifted Hands Neurosurgeon) Chapter 6 A Terrible Temper: I'd dreamed of being a doctor since I was 8 but how could I fulfill the dream with such a terrible temper? When angry I went out of control and had no idea how to stop. Id never make anything of myself if I didn't control my temper. If only I could do something about the rage that burned inside me. I felt sick to my stomach disgusted with myself and ashamed. "Unless I get rid of this temper," I said aloud, "Im not going to make it. If Bob hadn't worn that big buckle hed be dead and Id be on my way to reform school or jail. Misery washed over me. I hated myself but I couldn't help myself so I hated myself even more. From somewhere deep inside my mind came a strong impression. Pray. My mother had taught me to pray. My teachers at the religious school in Boston often told us that God would help us if we'd only ask him. For weeks and months Id been trying to control my temper figuring I could handle it myself. Now in that small hot bathroom I knew that truth. I could not handle my temper alone I felt as though I could never face anyone again. How could I look my mother in the eye? How could I ever see Bob again? How could he help but hate me? How could he ever trust me again? "Lord," I whispered, "You have to take this temper from me. If you don't Ill never be free from it. Ill end up doing things a lot worse than trying to stab my friends." Tears streamed between my fingers. "Lord despite what all the experts tell me, you can change me. You can free me forever from this destructive personality trait." "You've promised that if someone will come to you and ask something in faith, that youll do it. I believe that you can change this in me." I couldn't go on hating myself forever for all the terrible things Id done. I sat down on the toilet sharp mental pictures filling my mind. I saw my anger, clenched my fists against my rage. I wouldn't be any good for everything if I couldn't change. My poor mother I thought. She believes in me. Not even she knows how bad I am. Misery engulfed me in darkness. "If you don't do this for me Lord, Ive got no place else to go." At one point I slipped out of the bathroom long enough to grab a Bible. I opened it and began to read in Proverbs. Immediately I saw a string of verses about angry people and how they get themselves into trouble. Proverbs 16:23 impressed me the most: "He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city." I felt as if the verses had been written for me. The words of Proverbs condemned me but they also gave me hope. After a while peace began to fill my mind. My hands stopped shaking. The tears stopped During those hours alone in the bathroom something happened to me. God heard my deep cries of anguish. A feeling of lightness flowed over me and I knew a change of heart had taken place. I felt different. I was different. I walked out of the bathroom a changed young man. "My temper will never control me again," I told myself. "Never again I am free." Since that day since those hours of wrestling with myself and crying to God for help I have never had a problem with my temper. That same afternoon I decided to read the Bible everyday. I keep the practice as a daily habit and especially enjoy the book of Proverbs. Even now whenever possible I pick up my Bible and read the first thing everyday. The miracle that took place was incredible when I stop to think about it. Some of my psychologically oriented friends insist that I still have the potential for anger. Maybe there right but it has been more than 20 years since that experience and I have never had another flare up or serious need to control my temper. God had helped me to conquer my terrible temper once and for all. During those hours in the bathroom I also came to realize that if people could make me angry they could also control me. Why should I give someone else such power over my life? Im no better than anyone else but I laugh inside about how foolish people can be trying to make me angry. They don't have any control over me And this is the reason. Since that terrible day my faith in God has been intensely personal and an important part of who I am. About that time I began to sing or hum a song that continues to be my favorite, "Jesus is All the World to Me." Whenever anything irritates me that hymn dissolves my negativity. Ive explained it this way to young people,"I have sunshine in my heart regardless of conditions around me." Im not afraid of anything as long as I think of Jesus Christ and my relationship to him and remember that the one who created the universe can do anything. I also have evidence- my own experience- that God can do anything because he changed me.

Celebrity Testimony 7 Kevin Sorbo True Strength(Hercules the Legendary Journeys)

Kevin Sorbo True Strength: Chapter 21 The Good News My good Christian parents raised me in the Lutheran Church and I am a believer. But Im also kind of ticked off at the Big Guy. I need someone to blame for what happened to me and God was in the wrong place at the right time. Going to his house was not really on my to-do list. Then again I reason I need all the help I can get. In the church my heart pounds along with the swelling music. Its energy courses through my body. There had been a time recently when I thrived on this kind of rush. Not any longer. My head starts throbbing. The song ends and Tommy opens with a short prayer and then starts gently strumming his guitar the chords settling on the reverent crowd like a cozy morning fog. I have a father He calls me his own He'll never leave me No matter where I go He knows my name He knows my every thought He sees each tear that falls An hears me when I call I lose my inner battle my tears fall silently on my lap. My father had whispered to me, "Don't let him crack your neck." Twice In heard that warning and had failed to act upon it. Why warn me? Why let it happen? Why,God why? My questions keep time with the music The song finishes and the pastor, Mark Pickerill, begins to speak. I like him immediately Im accustomed to the preacher in the pulpit throwing down warnings like lightening bolts, cautioning about Gods wrath. Mark is an entirely different kind of messenger with more enticing ideas about God along with a healthy sort of humor. I listen in interest as he describes a loving savior who seeks our hearts. Although my soul is heavy for the first time I feel validated in church

Kevin Sorbo True Strength Chapter 26: Breathe MY meditation carried me to Gods feet. This arrival wasn't so much a choice as a result of my mind walking a path that always lead to something greater than me. While I was growing up Pastor Nording shouted, down hellfire and eternal flames of misery on us sinners every Sunday. He was a scary guy for a little kid but I recognized manipulation when I saw it. Rather being frightened into submission I rejected his teachings and I rejected him. Even as a young boy I was able to differentiate between the church and the God who founded it. I remember asking my mom when I was 12 if God was really that mad at us-because I didn't really think so. If God could be so evil why serve him? He gave us free will. I thought that, if anything,God was probably sad a lot of the time sad for the destructive choices so many of his children make. I regard our pastor as a messenger who had somehow gotten his message confused. I trusted in a loving forgiving God. I knew God had tried to warn me about the head thing. I blamed myself for failing to understand failing to react in time. Before my illness I was fully preoccupied with the material side of life. Moving at the speed of light I ignored the spiritual side the unseen. God created this world but I was determined to live it to the fullest to get the most of it I figured he would want that. Lying on the couch with nothing but spare time I conversed with God and told him my problems. I asked his forgiveness for my stupidity for not listening for my stubbornness even for my wasted anger at people. I had worked so hard to get where I was yet I was not satisfied. Before this I always wanted more. Now I just wanted different I begged him for some understanding. Thanked him for not letting the strokes kill me and for still giving me a chance to still be a father. I asked him to make me whole again. But if this was the best I was going to ever feel then I asked God to make me strong enough to handle it stronger than I was now.

Kevin Sorbo True Strength Chapter 41: Freedom If I was just a puppy afraid of the rain maybe God was looking at for me after all My hurricane had hit a full year before and it was still raining a pretty hard in my life. I struggled everyday working limited hours. But compared to what I had already experienced, I had come a long way and my symptoms were simply the tempest a part of me I ought to accept. I needed help to do that. I rededicated myself to finding a way to God through prayer. I decided to start praying simply for faith, humility, and vision for things working out alright. I longed to hear his gentle voice again like a child yearns for his daddys reassurance on a dark night. I was stronger and feeling better for longer periods. Even my ability to handle strong feelings had improved. It was finally sinking in that I was dead yet. The depression was suddenly lifting as my brain healed lightening my outlook. Recognizing that I had proved the doctors wrong augmented my confidence. My perspective shifted I saw myself with a way out. It finally crystalized that the doctors words were not the gospel. I did not tell most of my friends all the details of my troubles. Partly because of the secrecy issue but all because sharing my frail side would be to difficult. Even my parents were far away physically and understandingly. I only had Sam(his wife) and God, but helps those who help themselves. Getting better was up just to me. I began to try to lead instead of beg and succumb. I wasn't going to give the strokes anything and I would take back what was rightfully mine. I finally figured out that the strokes had no real power. It was more about being happy than healing. I began using my grateful prayer again. I thanked for the warning that September day. Although I didn't listen I wondered if he could have done it simply to let me know he was there. Perhaps that was blessing enough. I thanked him for the gratifying workouts and the good night sleeps at night. I thanked him for saving my arm,my speech, and what I had left of my sight. I thanked him for Sam and Giz(her dog) who had entered my life at the right moment. And for the character of Hercules, who was saving my life. I had defined myself by my job so I thanked him that I still had one. And although I would never measure to Hercules strength I battled his stamina for my everyday battle just to live a normal life.

Kevin Sorbo True Strength Chapter 51: God had tapped me on the shoulder with an aneurysm that might have seemed like a small thing but it wasn't. It was an enormous, life changing fortunate event that continues to affect me and always will. My strange brush with death along with the battle for my health that ensued abruptly and profoundly transformed my world. In time a quiet strength gradually returned my symptoms slowly abated my tolerance grew and I became not simply renewed but actually reinvented. In spite of myself I eventually began to see beyond the losses and appreciate the rewards of this changed life. The act of suffering does not make you a victim only your point of view can do that. Even loss can enrich you.