From Death to Life: How a Miracle Changed Everything
When Life Was Slipping Away
I was 10 years old when my life took a turn no child should ever face. A tumor the size of a grapefruit was growing in my brain. Surgery was the only hope — but what was supposed to save me almost ended my life.
During the procedure, I lost a massive amount of blood. My body began rejecting transfusions. I fell into a coma. The doctors had done all they could. But I was fading — breath by breath.
A Mother’s Desperation
While I lay unconscious, my mother stood just outside the ICU doors — tormented by fear, addiction, and her own brokenness. She’d lived a hard life, wrapped in alcohol, pain, and survival. But in that moment, as she stepped into the sterile smell of the ICU, she wasn’t just a woman with a troubled past.
She was a mother begging God for a miracle.
When she reached my bedside, she noticed a man standing at my feet. He didn’t look like a doctor. And she didn’t think much of him — until he spoke.
“Do you want your son to be saved? I’ve been with your son for some time now.”
She answered, “Of course. Anything for him.”
“Then believe in Jesus,” he said. “Trust Him — and watch what He’ll do.”
Desperate, she did. They prayed together. And then… he was gone.
She looked around — he was gone. No badge. No name. Just a memory and a question she couldn’t shake: Who was that?
The Impossible Happens
The very next day, I woke up.
The doctors had warned that, even if I survived, recovery would take months if not a year. My body had been too far gone.
But within three weeks, I was out of the hospital. A month later, I was back in school.
They couldn’t explain it. But we could.
“For nothing will be impossible with God.” — Luke 1:37
God didn’t just heal me physically. He used my broken body to open the door to something bigger.
From Trauma to Transformation
While my body healed, I stayed with my grandmother — who recently passed away — and my aunt. My mother returned to Mexico, still wrestling with her past. But something had shifted inside her.
Then one day, the unthinkable happened — my stepfather, the last person anyone would expect to talk about God, turned to her and said:
“After everything God did for your son, shouldn’t we at least go to church once to give thanks?”
She resisted. Hard.
“No,” she snapped. “Don’t ever talk to me about church.”
But he wouldn’t drop it.
“Just once. Just to give thanks.”
Eventually, she agreed. “Fine. But only once. And we’re never going back. And don’t tell me about changing who I am!”
One problem. They didn’t have a church to attend.
My stepfather said, “Hey, I saw a church on my way home from work that I hadn’t noticed before. Maybe we can try that one.”
The Night Everything Changed
They walked to that church on a Wednesday night. They stepped into the sanctuary — dim lights, faint music, the scent of old pews and fresh desperation. The preacher was already speaking when they sat quietly in the back.
And then — he stopped. He looked directly at my mother and began describing her life — pain she’d never spoken aloud, events only she and my stepdad could know. She didn’t remember the exact words, but each one struck like lightning.
She froze. Shocked. Terrified. She tried to hide.
My stepdad sat beside her in disbelief. He knew her story — but the preacher’s words cut too close. “How could he possibly know this?” he thought.
Stunned, my mother whispered, “Who told him my life?”
What happened next, she still struggles to fully explain.
She remembers suddenly being at the altar, her body shaking, tears falling in heavy drops that soaked her legs. She tried to open her eyes, but she couldn’t — all she could see was a bright, blinding light.
What felt like five minutes turned into hours. When she finally opened her eyes, everyone was gone. The church was empty. But something had changed.
She had encountered God — not just emotionally, but powerfully.
A New Legacy Begins
After that night, everything began to shift.
She began reading the Bible — and she says it was like the words spoke out loud. She heard them come to life. She didn’t fully understand what had happened to her… so much so that she started checking her surroundings. The next time she returned to church, she looked around carefully to make sure no one had spiked her drink.
But it was no trick.
Before she realized it, three months had passed — sober, clear, hungry for more of God.
From that day on, my mother’s life changed completely. She never went back to her old ways. She gave her life fully to Jesus, and through her obedience, our entire family was transformed — including me.
It was my tumor that led to her transformation. Her transformation led to my salvation. And that moment — nearly losing my life — set off a chain reaction that has led to me now serving Christ and leading others to Him through ministry.
What started as tragedy became testimony. What felt like death became the beginning of new life — for me, for my family, and for everyone God now allows me to reach.
“What you meant for evil against me, God meant for good—to bring about this present result, the saving of many lives.” — Genesis 50:20
Why I’m Sharing This
You may never face a brain tumor. But maybe you’re facing your own kind of death — depression, doubt, addiction, or something no one else sees.
I want you to know: your story isn’t over.
God didn’t just save me for my sake — He saved me so I could tell you that redemption is real. Healing is possible. And your life still holds purpose.
This was the moment that began everything for me — my calling to lead, to speak, to disciple others through their pain into purpose.
One Last Thing…
Your life may feel like it’s slipping. But if God can bring a 10-year-old boy back from the edge — and restore a broken family — He can do the same for you.
Let’s walk this journey together…
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