Monday, June 28, 2010

My Third Time Seeing God Supernaturally: The Lynn Leshner Story

From Cheap Perfume to the Fragrance of Heaven:
The Lynn Leshner Story

By Joe DiBella

Sometimes the mark people leave on your life is not left because of poignant lessons they taught you or exhilarating moments you shared with them. Sometimes the greatest lessons you can learn are just from partaking in and observing someone’s existence. Even if it is an existence marred by suffering, loss, and addiction.

While she was living, Lynn Leshner never taught me one tangible thing I could stow away and conjure up in a recollective flash of wisdom. She never gave me any anecdotal or profound advice that I had dug deep for in a time of strife. I can’t even think of a single momentous event I enjoyed with her. But Lynn was a real person whom I got to know over the course of 7 years, spanning two different jobs. She was an alcoholic and a mother to a son she never saw. Other then that she was little else in the world’s eyes. When she died in April of 2004 I went searching to God for answers about her life and death. The supernatural answer God gave me also became Lynn’s first poignant lesson to me. One that I can't keep quiet about any longer.

In The summer of 1996, I was 16 years old and started working as a dishwasher at a village restaurant in Webster named ‘Family Ties’. The now defunct restaurant was owned by John and Carol Apostolou. Carol was exceedingly eccentric, yet more exceedingly loving. She was always worrying about something and always looking out for people. On some slow nights at the restaurant, I used to give her rides home early before it closed. She would always make me stop in her church parking lot to join her in a prayer that her restaurant wouldn’t go under. But as much as she fretted about her own life, she was always worried about everyone else’s well being more. When Lynn Leshner awkwardly stumbled into her restaurant looking for work in the summer of 1997, reeking of cheap perfume, John told her they weren’t hiring…….. Five minutes later Lynn had the job.

After John had turned her down, Carol ran out after Lynn down the sidewalk. She told Lynn she was giving her a job as a dishwasher and to come back the next night to begin work. I was there when Carol told John she hired Lynn. He used words that I cannot repeat here. He tried to talk her out of it,but Carol stood her ground. I thank God that she did.

Lynn Leshner was about 4 foot 11 inches, and 85 pounds soaking wet. She was in her early 40’s at the time and was missing all but two of her teeth. When she ate she would "gum" at her food. At first glance you just knew she had been down the beaten path of life. Her clothes were raggedy and the soles of her shoes were chiseled down to ground level.

What we at the restaurant learned about Lynn in the next 2 years was this. She was an alcoholic. An alcoholic to the max in fact. Lynn drank everyday. She always had some amount of alcohol in her system. She would range from therapeutic levels to sloppy drunk. Her mind wasn’t all there. Not by a long shot. It appears she had been an alcoholic since being a teenager. She was very absent minded, often forgetting what time she had to be at work. I remember reminding her over and over what day of the week it was. The alcohol had infiltrated her brain and left only a shell behind.

Lynn always had a very distinct smell to her. She would try to cover up the stench of alcohol by dousing herself with a very specific and rancid perfume. For the 7 years I knew her she sprayed herself head to toe with the same perfume. I never smelled that brand on anyone else before. It was so potent that you always knew when she was near. Her 85 pound body made hardly a whimper upon approach, but her two cent perfume always proclaimed her arrival.

Lynn lived in a slummy one bedroom apartment across the street from the restaurant with her alcoholic boyfriend. Often times when she was too drunk to work Carol would send her home. Carol would often prepare a warm plate of food for her and have me bring it over to her house. She was so thankful that she would cry almost every time I brought her the food. Sometimes I would go into the apartment upon her invite, to be polite. I never sat down because of the cat and dog urine and feces on the couches. I remember one time she was so thankful for the hearty meal, that she gummed it down while simultaneously weeping in appreciation of Carol’s kind gesture of nourishment.

Those meals were unspokenly, yet so obviously a brief oasis for Lynn. Saddled between unsanitary living conditions, poverty and addiction were a few minutes where she could escape. Maybe it reminded her of better times. Maybe it gave her hope for her future. Maybe it just was simply what it was; a warm meal. But I’ve never seen anyone eat with such relief and happiness. Carol and I presumed that the only solid meals she ate were what Carol prepared for her, as what little money she had went straight to alcohol.

Lynn also is responsible for mistakenly taking away a portion of my childhood innocence. One day I went to her apartment to remind her she was supposed to be at work. She answered the door with a heartfelt “Hello”, but had forgotten one thing: Her shirt. Lynn had come to the door not realizing all she had on was pants. When I reminded her of such, she exclaimed sorrows as she scurried towards her room to grab a top. That day my hopes of my wife being the first woman I saw in such a condition were shattered.

I remember working with her in the back room one night and she began crying. I asked her what was going on and she told me had a son. She told me he was 17 years old and a senior in high school. She said she never sees him anymore and only talked to him rarely on the phone. That night she told me she missed him. When I asked her how long it had been since she talked to him she couldn’t even give me an estimate. “I don’t know”, she said. I told her she should give him a call, so she did.

I listened to her talk to him. She asked him a few very basic questions. That was probably all her brain allowed her to compose. As tears streamed down her face, I remember her telling him she loved him. I always wondered if he had said it back. She hung up the phone and came back still teary eyed. In that moment, the picture on her face was worth a thousand words. Alcohol had taken her relationship with her son almost completely away, but it couldn’t even so much as scar her love for him…….. Alcohol couldn’t touch Lynn Leshner’s heart.

The restaurant shut down in July of 1999 and I figured that was the last I would see of Lynn in my life. Two months later I got a job at a local Grocery Store. On my first day of work I headed behind the delicatessen counter and what did I see? Lynn Leshner..,slicing Swiss cheese.

This one of a kind woman was now in my life for a second time. I worked with her for about 3 years in that deli. The grocery store knew Lynn had a drinking problem so they had warned her not to come to work drunk. Working with Lynn could be frustrating at times because she tried her best but we often had to help her with the simplest of tasks. One day Lynn reached into the deli case for a turkey that was at the bottom. I looked over and all I saw were her legs kicking in the air. Lynn was stuck in the case and couldn’t get out. We pulled her out and she proceeded to slice the customer’s turkey. She sliced the wrong amount, the wrong thickness, and labeled the package ‘Smokehouse Ham’. When the customer pointed out her errors, Lynn laughed and told him she must have forgotten his order when she fell in the case. The customer,everyone watching,and most of all,Lynn,laughed it off. We all knew why she had really forgotten his order……., But alcohol couldn’t touch Lynn Leshner’s smile.

Lynn always asked me for a few dollars for ‘milk’. I knew the money would go straight to booze so the times I did help her out I made her buy the milk with me present. She didn’t have her license so I would give her rides home quite a bit. One time I remember driving her home and she had her milk on her lap in a bag. I laughed as I said to her “I bet you are so mad that that’s milk and not a ‘natty ice’ in your lap right now?” She told me she was glad it was milk and not alcohol. Lynn never admitted she was an alcoholic once in the 7 years I knew her.

A few times on these rides home I mentioned God to her. She told me she definitely believed in him. I asked her a few times if she wanted to come to church with me and she said sure. Unfortunately I never followed up. I never even asked her if she had ever asked Christ into her life.

Sometime in 2002 Lynn was fired for drinking Vanilla Extract out of the bottle in the back room of the deli. She had done it for years to get her alcohol fix during long shifts and had finally been caught. She cried, hugged everyone in the deli, and made her way out.

The next time I saw Lynn was about a year later. I was driving down Empire Boulevard late at night, and saw her walking with another lady on the side of the street. The lady she was with was known around town as a crack user. I stopped and asked them where they were going and they said downtown to meet with some friends. I invited them to get in and dropped them off at Midtown Plaza. I knew she probably was going there to drink, and most likely indulge in other debaucheries. I remember asking Lynn before she got out of the car if she was sure this was where she wanted to be dropped off. I told her I would bring her home if she wanted. She promised me she wasn’t going to get into any trouble and that she would be fine. She thanked me and calmly shut the door. That was the last time I ever saw Lynn Leshner alive.

In April of 2004, I got a call from a former co-worker who told me that Lynn had been murdered. She had been living with a new boyfriend in the city. Apparently one night an argument got out of hand. He took a lamp and hit her with it several times. She died of severe brain injuries.

There was simply a small blurb in the paper with her name and age, stating that she had been murdered. Lynn didn't have any involved family or friends. There was no funeral.....Alcohol doesn't plan proper burials.

The same evening I found out she had died, I got in my car to drive to work. I was feeling so much sadness, but my primary emotion was guilt. What if I had done more? What if I followed up on my request and actually brought her to church? Why hadn’t I asked if she was saved? I couldn’t help but worry that Lynn had died without achieving salvation in Christ and thus had been separated From God in her death. In my guilt I remember getting wispy eyed, and praying. As I drove, prayed, and cried, I turned on my car radio. Then came one of the most divine moments of my life.

As I turned on the radio amidst my utter guilt, the song that just happened to be on was Boyz 2 Men’s “One Sweet Day.” For those of you who don’t know the song, the chorus is as follows: “I know you’re shining down on me from heaven, like so many friends we lost along the way. And I know eventually we’ll be together, one sweet day.” Simultaneously as that song played, an odor overtook my car from front to back. For about ten to fifteen seconds, as that song proclaiming a deceased friend was smiling down from heaven played, all I could smell was the fragrance of Lynn Leshner’s cheap perfume. The smell quickly faded, and it took my guilt along with it. After that incident, I never smelled that distinct odor again.

In that moment, I knew that that was God telling me she was ok. He spoke thru a specific song and an uncanny odor, saying, “Don’t feel guilty. Rejoice. She is with me now. Her suffering has ended.” God knew I was dealing with a guilty conscience. He knew I was worried about Lynn’s eternal destiny and was great enough to extinguish my sorrows. The beauty of this was that somewhere along the line, Lynn must have accepted Jesus Christ as her savior. Whether she had memory of it or not, and however many bottles of beer she consumed after her acceptance of him was irrelevant in the eyes of a loving and forgiving God.

Lynn Leshner’s conscientious decision to drink led to her life of alcoholism. In turn, alcoholism led her down a difficult road, filled with loss and hardship. It changed her life in so many ways. It took so much from her. But it couldn’t touch her ability to love and to laugh. I always had thought that those were the only two things that alcohol didn’t take from her. But upon her death, God showed me in a supernatural way that there was indeed a third thing that her addiction hadn’t gained access to. Most importantly of all, alcohol couldn’t touch Lynn Leshner’s soul.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

What If There Was 30 Minutes Of Sorrow In Heaven?

What If There Were 30 Minutes Of Sorrow In Heaven?

By Joe DiBella

I am sure most of you have heard of the books '23 Minutes in Hell’ and '90 Minutes in Heaven’. One book tells the story of one man's trip to hell and the fury he saw. The other tells of one man's trip to heaven and the glory he saw. Both men came back with a message of biblical proportion. Hell sucks and Heaven doesn't. Lately I have been thinking of a theoretical idea that all Christians should delve into. What if upon death we were given 30 minutes of sorrow in heaven? What if God allowed us to see the souls we missed touching? What if I were to feel the sorrow of my own selfish causes for 30 minutes before entering perfect glory? What would I do differently now if I thought this was a possibility? How would I prioritize souls in my dog eat dog, go go go lifestyle. Although only a theory, I hope you can soak it in as a fact so you can discover the essence of the idea.

I remember once asking somebody “Is there sorrow in heaven? Will we have regret, sorrow or sadness when discovering people we cared about are not with us?" They replied to the tune of, "No, heaven is without sorrow or regret." That got me thinking. I wondered how it would be possible to go to heaven and look around and see someone you love is missing and not find that heart wrenching. But for all intensive purposes it appears that sorrow will cease to exist in heaven. Nothing in the Bible portrays sorrows as an emotion in heaven. Revelations and Isaiah say that God will wipe every tear from our eye. But what if there was a verse in the bible that said upon entering heaven you will for a brief time realize the time you wasted, withholding the truth?

Everyone has a date of death on their tombstone. But there is also a date that we don't know of that will never appear on any headstone. There is one day in time,probably long after you die, that the last person who ever knew you will die. That will be the day of your true death on earth. Think about it. After that 'second death' ,your life will no longer have any first hand impact resounding in this world. The only thing we can do on earth that will last forever is for Christ. And there is no arguing that,believer or not.

This idea I propose in and of itself in reality is moot. Now that you’re dead any amount of sadness laid on you won't give you an opportunity to reach out to these lost souls. But theoretically speaking doesn't the concept blow your mind? What if God could just get you to believe this '30 minutes of sorrow' would occur upon entering heaven? Would it change your mind about your house, your car, your job, your entertainment...your life?

I find it interesting that one of the most awkward things to do sometimes is bring up Jesus and the path to him with the unsaved. Why is this that when we know the ultimate truth that so many lesser things flow from our tongues with much greater ease? After all when the ultimate truth is known, isn't that the trump card by which conversation should flow?

I can honestly say this. The only thing I know for sure in this crazy world is there is a God. I take honor in being able to say I know that for sure. The very truism I hold about God's existence is so often what people say they can't grasp. The Lord has privileged me in my 13 years of physical suffering to show me his existence. I once watched him reboot my computer and output random characters on the dos screen on cue at my plea for proof he was there.

The very day I went quit poker and started working full time,I heard and felt God’s presence for 45 seconds or so, in an auditory and gravitational experience that could only be described as perfect. He was showing me how proud he was of me for dropping gambling and listening to him. I went to work that night and told my unsaved friend about my out of body heavenly experience. He asked me to pray for his brother who was suffering from Schizophrenia and hadn’t left his room in 6 months. I went home and prayed for him and the next time I saw him he told me “Man whatever crazy stuff your doing keep it up. My brother came out of his room and asked to watch T.V. yesterday. He hasn’t come out of his room to the living room in over six months.” How real is Jesus?

Once upon nearly dying in the hospital I felt urged to share testimony with the church about how lucky I was to be alive still. I was hesitant and timid about it that Sunday morning however. The worship team was playing as people got prayed for. As I sat there I thought of a song that I wanted to hear them play. I said in my head that if they played that specific song, I would go up and share testimony. Sure enough the next song they played was that song. I didn’t go up though, but said in my head to God if the next song was a specific song I would go up. Again, sure enough the next song was the song I was thinking of. And yet again I didn’t go up due to fear of public speech. Finally I thought of a third specific song I wanted played, and sure enough, the next song was that song. I finally went up and shared. It doesn't get more real then that. That was April 29,2001. Divine moments like that were few and far between back then. God does this type of stuff in my life all the time now though.

I can give you countless other similar stories of how real God has shown himself to be in my life. Yet even in knowing all this and putting it on paper here, for some reason I don't dedicate every moment I can to telling unsaved people of his truth. Why is this? It frustrates me. Sensibly I should quit my job, sell my stuff, and strictly try to reach the unsaved. Why does my “sensibility” so often come out as a secular equation?

So,What if for 30 minutes we saw a slide show of every face of the unsaved people that passed through our lives,not knowing whether they ever got saved or not.Just knowing we didn't try.This theory of' 30 minutes of sorrow in heaven' is a fallacy. But its concept should dominate our lives.

I have a friend who used to pull allot of girls in his youth. We could never understand how he always was with someone,while we sat single. Then one day he explained that he goes out to clubs and just starts dancing with girls incessantly. He gets rejected a huge percent of the time. But his persistence, dedication, and the laws of mathematics landed him a girl almost every time out. Sometimes I wish this was the approach I would take with reaching out to the unsaved. It's hard to be rejected. And many times your words of ministry will fall on deaf ears. But keep dancing and eventually your going to get one. One soul is worth a plethora of rejection right?

As I sit here I am saying to myself that it's probably not realistic to think that Christians should be dedicating 24 hours a day, 7 days a week to ministry of the unsaved. It often blows my mind to think of the fact I won't be upset in heaven when I look around and realize "Loved one John Doe” is not here. On the contrary, I know that there is joy in heaven. And I can imagine seeing someone you reached out to and brought to Christ will be among the most joyous occasions in the afterlife.

So I presented a problem in our mindsets here and also want to suggest a resolution. Pray for souls to fall into your lap. If you only ask, God will put together the divine appointments and give you the words to say. It's frustrating that I can sit with an unsaved person and find in my earthly compulsion that I am quicker to bring up the topic of ‘Who won the game’ much more comfortably and easily then, ' Are you interested in being happy forever when you die?'

Since I quit gambling in October I have seen God bring 5 people to Christ. Despite my illogical fear of feeling awkward or rejected, the first time I told an unsaved person the way to heaven they were open to it. As a matter of fact allot of the people I have told didn't even know that you needed to accept Christ as your Lord and savior to go to heaven. There are people out there that think that good deeds get you to heaven and we often write them off as ‘misled’. Have you ever considered that they are not misled at all? What if they just didn’t know?

Let's say we spent 24 hours a day 7 days a week attempting to lead someone to Christ. And that one time a day, you got someone to pray the prayer of Salvation. Over a 50 year span you would bring 18,250 people to eternal happiness. Would you look back on your death bed and think of these 18 thousand plus souls and have one ounce of regret? Would you sit there saying "I wish I watched more T.V." or, "I wish I made more money?” What if you spent 24/7 for 50 years and only saw one person achieve salvation. Any regrets? I mean you spent 50 years straight and only one person's eternal destiny was altered. Surely it must have been a waste of time right? On the flip side if you lay on your death bed without having changed a soul,is there a chance you will you regret how your time was spent?

I understand the concept is hard to grasp. I know that if I had an opportunity at a "Normal" life I probably wouldn't be thinking on this level. I always wondered why I got so sick,so young. Why everyone around me was carrying on with college, marriage and children and I was stuck in a civil war against nearly every vital function of my body. It was only recently I discovered why God allowed me to have an abnormal last decade. He didn't put sickness in my body,but once it happened he wanted to use it for good. Every blessing and curse is your own choice. You’re never in a terrible place unless you choose to let yourself be.

In writing this I thought about all the time we as Christians spend intermingling amongst believers. We spend so much time with other saved people. And that’s great. I do think we easily forget why we are here. I wish churches had more classes with direct teachings on how to reach the unsaved. In reality reaching the unsaved and untaught should not only be the most important thing we do, but also the most prevalent. I dare to say we should be dedicating all of our free time to this. Sound crazy? Maybe. But what if there was indeed a slide show of all the people you never reached out to? 30 minutes of sorrow preceding infinite joy. Do you know a “slide show” candidate? Do you love one? Thankfully this 30 minute span will never occur. It would be too painful. So in light of 30 minutes that will never occur, I ask you to believe that it absolutely will. The person sitting next to you could have much more then 30 minutes counting on it.

Sunday, June 13, 2010


-looks like i will be blogging every few weeks instead of twice a week..later this week i will be releasing my latest article . its about the case for feeling sorrow in heaven for the first 30 minutes, and how it might change our perspective of things down here..even just the concept of it happening should change us. it actually happening would make little sense..but if we believed it would,,i think we would reevaluate our time and thought process..

- I saw a ad saying that if you have crohn's disease and took accutane before hand that you can sue and win up to 8.4 million dollars,,as one of their clients allegedly got. i dont think i ever took it though,its a acme medicine that apparently causes chrohn's..but my face was clear as could be before i got sick ,unfortunately..or i would be on my way to 8 gone it.

-this morning i stopped at tim hortons for 2 chocolate donuts,,i ordered and the young man asked me if that was all i wanted..i told him yes,and drove up..well he gave me a dirty look as i pulled up,then in a voice of belittlement told me " you didnt even wait for the total guy"..ooooohhhhhhh i get it....its rude now if i drive up without getting a total that i already know .i ashamedly get donuts there a couple times a weekk.always 2--always comes to 1.70....but he has to go out of his way to rudely tell me i was rude for not waiting for a total...i said to him " did i offend you" in a middle of the line tone..and he ignored me,,man how dare i.....the best part of this is that i drove off and realized he got my order wrong..1 chocolate donut..1 vanilla.....maybe he should focus more on his job then what he perceives i should be giving him out of this whole sequence...unreal....tomorrow i will be getting a free donut out of all this,,i promise you that.

-----which brings me into a nice segway into my next point.....lately i have noticed that going thru a drive thru is becoming more of a fast food experience for the workers then the customers....i go thru drive thru's now,,not as often as i used to due to trying to eat better..but just about everytime,,it feels like they are cycling you thru so fast that you feel used,abused ,dirty ,and cheap after you get your food....they have those timers that award them for the speedier they can get you thru there..and boy did they want to get u thru fast..literally, they stand there with there hand out and make u feel like an idiot for trying to find the correct change..then when you do have change coming ,they give it to you and your food comes in the next fell your trying to put your change back in your wallet and they have your food out the window staring at you like you just killed their goldfish in cold blood..its so freaking uncomfortable an experience,,and this isnt just one place one happens just about whenever i go thru any drive thru....hey fast food workers..try not to make this so awkward an experience if you can....dont stuff the whole experience down our throats and make us feel guilty for not wanting both hands full of food and change.. give me a second please ,

sports thought of the day:

-If you have watched the nba finals ,you have noticed that there is alot of sound editing going on. That of course is happening because nba players feel the need to curse each other,the refs,and the air out at every chance they get..This got me thinking..why does david stern allow this to happen??? There should be no swearing on the court as an nba player..and of course i can hear the argument now...." you cant ask professional athletes not to swear during games" ....really? ?? why not? are they entitled? I can't curse at my job..and i doubt you can either..but the one exception we make is for grown men who make millions and are on national television? I tell you what,,my kids will never watch an nba game the way it is now..all these guys do is argue with the refs..on every call. no matter how blatant the foul was..its always a bad call....and when they are not cursing out a ref..they are cursing something else out....and the edit guys dont catch every a segment in game 2 i heard the following unedited phrase " we got this sH_t Ni$&a!!!!" ,,not a phrase you throw around at the office too often is it? but its ok cuz they are athletes who get angry easily!!! this is the one place this shoudlnt go on!!!! make a rule that you cant argue with refs at all unless your the coach,,and you cant use profanity on the is this hard? this would really be frowned upon ? by who???? so unreal...

- i am having a tennis tournament in july if anyone is interested,,20 dollar buy in..

- I can use some prayer bc i am really frustrated with my body lately....i never stop coughing,and my bowels appear to be acting up.....i know God has a plan for all this,,but i woudlnt be mad at him if i received a miracle as part of that plan in about 5 minutes from now... i am ALWAYS dizzy and my eyes dont focus..its matter how excited i am about what God is doing around me ..days still are hard when you just never feel right..not even close to right....i know my body has to align with how it was meant to be,and i believe that will happen in time..doesnt mean this second doesnt suck in the physical though...its just easier bc God is showing me so much that how can i doubt any of it.....but again,,it sucks to be depleted in so many areas of my body..more then i can explain..

" I will praise you in this storm, and I will lift my hands,You are who you are,no matter where I am..Every tear I've cried,you hold in your hand,,You never left my side,and though my heart is torn,,I will praise You in this storm''

-Praising him in a storm you don't know will end is important..what if it never ends in the physical until we go into heaven? ..GOd doesnt give us disease..its a detriment of an imperfect world..but he yearns to take it and use it for good..GOd can take everything and make it good..if you let as much as I wanna give up somedays,,,the voice of truth is too loud for me to let that thought manifest anymore...

Which segways into a very cool story... Last July 5th my then girlfriends baby's father died as you all probably know. I happened to be at the scene of the accident..The survivor in the car,Brad Degroat was supposed to either die or be a vegetable for life..Well almost a year later he is alive,well,and preaching,,,saving souls...using the story of what should have been certain a launching pad to ministry...i talked to him on facebook chat a few weeks ago and asked him how many souls have been saved bc of his accident and hence forth witnessing to the lost..he said it diddnt matter how many have been saved so far ,it matters how many are left to be saved..very powerful statement right there...he could have bragged and given me a number...but he is focused on what needs to be done,not what has been done..and that is perspective at its finest as a born again christian... Well since I was at the scene of this accident,,i can't help but feel a certain closeness to brad,even though we barely have ever spoke..i coached him for about a week 5 years ago,before he quit due to never forget a kid you coach,,even if its just for a week.they are always special to you..anyways..the one time i saw him since, i felt this voice telling me to ask him to pray for me to be healed,,but i didnt ask..and when i spoke to him on chat a few weeks ago i felt like i was supposed to ask him again..but is the cool part of the story....Last tuesday I got a invite from a friend i barely ever see to play softball with him...he suffers from ulcerative colitis..the sister disease to crohn's and what i had for 5 years before contracting crohn's....We got to talking and i asked him how he was last time i spoke to him he was on high doses of prednisone and having blood in the stool..( a serious flare basically)...well he told me that about a month ago he went to brad's church to hear him preach,,then got prayed for after brad made an alter call for prayer,by one of the church elders...He said that as of that day he hasnt had an issues,,and even that very day went off the prednisone (it was his scheduled day to self ween off of it) for a month he has been drug free,and symptom free,,after being prayed for at brad's church....kinda crazy isnt iT? how is that not obviously divine??? also interesting,,,considering i felt urged to have brad pray for me for the same disease pretty much??? so im gonna go to his church next time he preaches..and get healed..sound good?

ok im loopy.....thanks for reading,,God bless.........Joeyd.