My Christian Being

My Christian Being

This is a testimony of sorts as to why I am what I am. I have been kicking around as a Christian for a long time. I was raised in a Christian home by Christian parents, I had Christian grandparents and great-grandparents Well, I’ll say unofficially Christian since the fall of 1970 and officially since 1972.

I was baptized for the first time (I’ll explain this later) in May of 1970. This came about through the good influences of my family, my friends at the time (Mark Woodley etc.), and the minister of the church that I was attending. Dr. Stibbards was a man that in my young eyes was the most Christian person I had ever met and it was with him that I really began to see and know the Lord. I had been raised in a Christian home and always knew about Jesus but it was through Dr. Stibbards and Mark Woodley and friends that I really began to understand what it was all about.

I don’t feel that my early Christian life in the very early 70’s was outstanding or special. It was a period of deep seeded growth in my life and a point at which my life anchored itself. My Christianity grew up with Cornerstone. As you probably know, Mark Woodley founded that organization primarily as a youth outreach for the young people in the area Baptist churches. It started in the basement of Park Baptist Church (the church that we both attended); it grew and moved into the basement of Grace Anglican Church to accommodate a wider base of operation. Again, it rapidly expanded and subsequently moved to the address you might remember on Queen St. It was during this period that my understanding and “Christian Being” solidified and centered itself deeply in my life. It was through Cornerstone that I fully experience what it was to be truly Christian. It was here that I had my first experiences with the Gifts of the Spirit. I was witness to any number of manifestations of the Holy Spirit. I personally experienced the gift of tongues, translation and what I now know as the gift of listening. I experienced directly and indirectly the whole gamut of all the gifts that the Spirit chooses to show us. It was a wondrous time in my life.

Cornerstone was now operating as Cornerstone Church, a drop-in centre for just about anybody, an artist colony/studio, a kitchen for those in need, a general meeting place and hangout for a whole lot of people, and the most interesting church in the city. We/I learned a lot and at the same time I know I helped a lot.

It was in 1972 that I was baptized again. Now I have to explain why this came about. Way back in ’70, when I was baptized the first time, I thought I was doing it for all the right reasons. In reality I had done it because it was “the right thing to do” and it was “expected” of me. It made my parents. my minister, my grandparents, my Sunday school teacher, my friends, my parents’ friends, etc. etc. etc., all very happy. I hadn’t really done it for the reason I was supposed to. I did it to please the world and not to please my God. My second baptism was the true gift of my heart given to the Lord. Not done for any reason other than my own personal gift, one to One. So I was baptized again, this time in the Grand River with a couple of close friends at the time. This time I knew that it was definitely “right”.

Time marches on and I moved on in my life as well. I went away to school and lived a new life. I kept in touch with a few people in Brantford (specifically a person named Richard Mutz) and went back to Cornerstone whenever possible. But it was difficult to continue my life in Brantford as well as at school. At school I (like so many others) did some stupid things but there was no permanent damage that I know of. Fortunately, while I unfortunately did stray from the fold, I was never able to bring myself to stray too far or for too long and came back to where I belonged. I connected with a couple of small Christian groups on campus and we enjoyed many things together. Even what we called “churching”, that is going to a different church every week just to see what else was happening elsewhere. With graduation, I ended up back in Brantford employed at Screen Print Industries and shortly thereafter married.

I choose not to delve into my marriage in this document but I have survived what turned out to be an unfortunate situation.

It was during this period in my life that I experienced three personal miracles. The first of these miracles was born February 1, 1982 and was named Julie Rose Ellis. The second miracle was born March 14, 1984 and was named Robyn Elizabeth Ellis. I was present at the birth of both of my daughters and they were the most profound experiences in my life up until that time. Little did I know what was in store for me in the very near future.

A short time after Robyn was born I started having health problems, feeling ill all the time, some unusual pains in unusual places and fevers. Definitely not normal. I went to my doctor who in turn sent me to another doctor who ended up putting me in the hospital to clear up a very bad internal infection. This was in May of 1984. One of the procedures that I was required to undergo was an x-ray of my digestive and urinary tracts utilizing radioactive iodine. Nobody was too concerned about the procedure, including me, and I was expected to be in and out of the hospital the same day. Unfortunately, this was not to be. I had a rather extreme allergic reaction to the radioactive dye being used for the x-ray. As the nurse began to inject the dye into my arm I almost immediately broke out in a severe rash covering me from head to toe. I started to tell the nurse about it but discovered that I wasn’t able to talk and I wasn’t able to breathe either. What happened next scared me beyond belief. I could actually feel my body shutting down, fast.

I was dying. I knew it and could not do or say anything to stop it. I lost consciousness to the sight of the nurse shouting something that I couldn’t hear to someone I couldn’t see.

This is the point that everything became interesting to say the least. You’ve heard about people that die and come back and what they experienced. Well, that’s what happened to me. After I lost consciousness I seemed to wake up in another place or realm or something. I saw the traditional “bright light at the end of a tunnel” and was moving towards it. The next image I had was of me standing in a small stone-walled room. I never looked up so I don’t know if there was a ceiling or not. Plants like ivy were growing down from above but I didn’t notice from where. There was one heavy, handcrafted door in the opposite wall with big, heavy handle and hinges. Elsewhere in the room, a large book (like a king size super deluxe pulpit bible) was on a stand or small table. Everything about the room seemed very familiar and “homey”, almost as if I had been there before or I belonged there. Then, I wasn’t alone anymore. Across the room, standing next to the book was a figure of a man of indeterminate age resting his left hand on the left page of the book. The man was wearing basic everyday clothes but I kept getting flashes of an image of a long glowing robe over top of the clothing. Then this “man” lifted his right arm straight out from his body towards me and lifted his hand slowly, showing me a marked palm. I looked at his face but couldn’t really see anything of it except a small smile and what I thought at the time, were sad eyes. I wanted to ask him what was happening to me but I never had a chance because suddenly I felt wrong about being in that place and knew that I had to go back. To the world that I had come from. Almost as soon as I felt this way I “woke up” on the x-ray table with a nurse straddling me, hitting me in the chest and getting ready to administer the “kiss of life”. I felt fine with the exception of a sore chest (CPR) and arm (injection).

They told me afterwards that I had had an extreme anaphylactic shock because of an allergy to the injected dye used for the x-ray and that I had basically been dead on the table for three or four minutes before my heart was started again due to the expertise of the staff that resuscitated me. That’s what they said.

I have never had as profound an experience as that, nor has any experience ever affected me as deeply as this one did. I died and I am still here, alive. I thought about what happened to me a lot while I stayed in the hospital following my recovery (another week) and I still can’t say exactly what happened or why, but I “felt the hand of GOD” in my life at that time and I couldn’t figure out exactly what it meant; to me or anyone else.

The way I saw it then was simple. I was a new father again and it wasn’t my time to leave this mortal plane and I was responsible for two small children. I took this “message” seriously and have tried to do the best I could. Even with the separation and divorce my two girls have turned into people that I am proud to call my children.

In the years since then I have thought about the whole thing many, many times and have come to the conclusion (in hindsight of course) that I am here for more than just my own children. All of the physical infirmities that I have suffered with over the years have always shown someone else that it is possible to live and to live well, no matter what the world or the enemy throws at you. God and I have been through a lot in this life so far and I expect to go through a lot more. But, I will have all the help I could ever hope for from an unlimited source: God. I have been able to help many people through my ability to really listen and empathize. In listening to these people I have been able to relieve the pressures that were overwhelming them, allowing them to see what was happening and what they needed to do or say. It seems such a simple thing to do, just listening to someone, but it isn’t. I have always had a voice or feeling telling me when to shut up and listen and I know that it’s God talking. I know it’s really God who’s listening though my ears and I hope that I will always hear Him when He wants me to.

God has shown me, told me, taught me, and given me everything that is important to me and mine. Cherie in my life is a direct result of listening when I was supposed to and doing what I was told to do and I am really happy that I did. I tried to get her on my own and it looked like it would never happen. I gave up trying on my own; too many things went wrong all the time. Eventually I finally shut up like He wanted me to and to listen. I did, suddenly we did and we still are.

More recently, I have finally had corrective surgery for my leg situation and I know that God opened the doors and made the connections that I needed to get this work done because everything just happened so fast and went so smoothly. I had tried in the past to get things done but it just wouldn’t happen. I had physicians talking about joint replacements and joint fusions, and I was still in my early forties, I didn't want to have to do any of that. I had lived with chronic pain in that joint for almost 30 years. Since that December that joint has been virtually pain free. I still have pain in the leg but it's a far cry from what was and now is just basic arthritic pain.

On May 17, 2003 Cherie and I discovered what felt like the head of one of the surgical screws poking out where it shouldn’t be poking. It was very noticeable when you had the right light on it. Needless to say, we were very concerned. I spoke to Pastor after the service the next day and he immediately grabbed an elder (Rudi) and the prayed for healing. I remember that when they started I felt a jolt of extreme heat and a pressure release in my knee as we were standing at the front. The screw head receded back to where it was supposed to be without any physical discomfort at all. I still told my doctor about it and was told to meet him at the hospital the next day where he would remove it. What a strange situation that was, the doctor "operate" on me with a miniscule incision and a hex head screwdriver.

I am the only person I know who has actually had a loose screw, had it removed and now am able to keep that loose screw on a chain so it won’t get lost. This is a constant physical reminder to me of what God has done to me, for me, and with me throughout my entire existence. My life has had, is having, and will continue to have, it's ups and downs. But I will always remember that, although I may have had a loose screw at one time it's not loose anymore. It's firmly under control, and a constant reminder of what is in my life. My body is still my body with all of its aches and pains but I have been given another chance to live in Gods ways and I don't think I'm going to live any other way as long as I'm breathing on this planet.