darkmonkey666
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- Joined
- Aug 16, 2018
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This was a post I made a long time ago. I just recently came across this again saved on internet archive. Well I think it's good to remember things like this when doing the rtr. This is totally a true story it happened to me. Although even though my mom admitted that she knew "god" made me do this I still got blamed for the first one.
Here is a true account of prayer being answered not once but twice in a very negative and frankly scary way from my own life. I hope you listen to my story with an open mind and honestly think about the implications of what this might mean, When I was around nine years old (I didn't know this before the fire they told me afterwards in an abused relationship type way trying to convince me of "gods" miracles) my mom prayed for help on cleaning and organizing her basement. I was at the church a couple of days before the house fire and this was after Sunday school. My dad, the pastor was finishing up working on something in his office and we were about ready to go home. I suddenly felt a strong overwhelming urge to go into the Sunday school room at the end and on the table, I picked up some matches and a white candle. I don't really know or remember what got into me, I just put them in my pocket and had an urge to keep them. I walked down the steps and over to my dad and I remember we walked home. Around two days later (I can't remember all the details about how long it was) it was a school night and I was doing homework. I was getting pretty bored so my mom says take a break for a few minutes (she was helping me). I for some reason go to my room, grab the candles and matches and head to the basement (details are sketchy in my mind but I think I did something in between) I go to the guest bedroom sit down and start playing with the candles and matches (I am like should I do this) I feel weird but like something is pushing me (kind of like goosebumps on the arm and a feeling like I am guilty but I am doing something good at the same time.) I light a box full of paper in the closet with clothes hanging above on fire (I have no memory of what those papers were or the way things were arranged but I am lucky we didn't both end up dead) I just walk upstairs as if everything is normal. When I get upstairs my mom feels that something is wrong and takes me back downstairs. She smells the smoke and she tells me later that when she saw the fire she got an overwhelming sense of peace and comfort strangely and that "god" had answered her prayer and manipulated me into doing this. (she actually told me this with tears in her eyes) I started freaking out and feeling really scared once I knew what I had done. Anyway that was a long night and that brought on a lot of changes for all of us. She found an easter cross that she didn't remember having on the bedroom floor. Everything around it was burned and the piece of paper was untouched and there was soot on it until you got to the cross and the cross part of the paper was untouched she still keeps it framed to this day and on display at my parents house. (I will add a picture of this next time I am at my parents house but it may be awhile since they are live a hundred miles away right now) Skip ahead to five years later my mom prayed again to have help cleaning and organizing the car (apparently she forgot what happened the first time) well me and a friend were in the backseat my dad was driving and all of a sudden her seat starts smoking and my dad has to pull over and the car bursts into flames. To this day she has vowed never to ask for help cleaning something again. Here is a picture of the place that burned down thats now rebuilt. The lower bedroom on the left corner is where the fire started, I don't live there anymore nor do I know who lives there now. Here is the Sunday School wing of the church my dad was pastoring at the time where I got the matches, and the candle.
Here is a true account of prayer being answered not once but twice in a very negative and frankly scary way from my own life. I hope you listen to my story with an open mind and honestly think about the implications of what this might mean, When I was around nine years old (I didn't know this before the fire they told me afterwards in an abused relationship type way trying to convince me of "gods" miracles) my mom prayed for help on cleaning and organizing her basement. I was at the church a couple of days before the house fire and this was after Sunday school. My dad, the pastor was finishing up working on something in his office and we were about ready to go home. I suddenly felt a strong overwhelming urge to go into the Sunday school room at the end and on the table, I picked up some matches and a white candle. I don't really know or remember what got into me, I just put them in my pocket and had an urge to keep them. I walked down the steps and over to my dad and I remember we walked home. Around two days later (I can't remember all the details about how long it was) it was a school night and I was doing homework. I was getting pretty bored so my mom says take a break for a few minutes (she was helping me). I for some reason go to my room, grab the candles and matches and head to the basement (details are sketchy in my mind but I think I did something in between) I go to the guest bedroom sit down and start playing with the candles and matches (I am like should I do this) I feel weird but like something is pushing me (kind of like goosebumps on the arm and a feeling like I am guilty but I am doing something good at the same time.) I light a box full of paper in the closet with clothes hanging above on fire (I have no memory of what those papers were or the way things were arranged but I am lucky we didn't both end up dead) I just walk upstairs as if everything is normal. When I get upstairs my mom feels that something is wrong and takes me back downstairs. She smells the smoke and she tells me later that when she saw the fire she got an overwhelming sense of peace and comfort strangely and that "god" had answered her prayer and manipulated me into doing this. (she actually told me this with tears in her eyes) I started freaking out and feeling really scared once I knew what I had done. Anyway that was a long night and that brought on a lot of changes for all of us. She found an easter cross that she didn't remember having on the bedroom floor. Everything around it was burned and the piece of paper was untouched and there was soot on it until you got to the cross and the cross part of the paper was untouched she still keeps it framed to this day and on display at my parents house. (I will add a picture of this next time I am at my parents house but it may be awhile since they are live a hundred miles away right now) Skip ahead to five years later my mom prayed again to have help cleaning and organizing the car (apparently she forgot what happened the first time) well me and a friend were in the backseat my dad was driving and all of a sudden her seat starts smoking and my dad has to pull over and the car bursts into flames. To this day she has vowed never to ask for help cleaning something again. Here is a picture of the place that burned down thats now rebuilt. The lower bedroom on the left corner is where the fire started, I don't live there anymore nor do I know who lives there now. Here is the Sunday School wing of the church my dad was pastoring at the time where I got the matches, and the candle.
