Excerpt from Chapter one of Healing Sticks.

On this particular morning I walked out my front door to go to yet another busy day of meetings. I closed the door and looked around as I usually do to see if my bodyguards were lurking around unseen as they were hired to do. As I turned walking towards my car, a man came running up near the driveway shaking a gun and demanding a stick as he shrieked out his orders in a hysterical cracking manner. I was too stunned to think quickly or feel any fear. The gunmen was about fifteen feet in front of me when he bellowed out in sheer panic, “Give me a stick or I'll shoot you!” he cried.
Forget what I said about fear because now I was shaking and I stammered back, “If you've read anything about me you know I don't carry any of the sticks with me!”
“I don't believe you!” Apparently he was as shaken and frightened as I was. “Give me a stick or I’ll shoot you and take it from you,” he demanded.
He may have been delusional or momentarily insane and I could smell fear riveting out of him like a nuclear power plant with rising toxic fumes getting ready to rupture. "Please," I yelled back to him, "Don’t, don’t do anything foolish that you will regret."
His eyes seemed a blazed and brightly orange, demonic in nature as he aimed and fired the gun. Instinctively, I jumped as the bullet whizzed between my legs and I plunged to the ground falling in a mass of flesh upon the grass. Suddenly, without warning, another shot rang out and I thought this was indeed my last supper. I didn't feel any pain from what I thought was a bullet going into my body. As I looked up I saw the crazed gunman fall to the ground bleeding profusely from his chest. Surprised that it wasn't me who was shot, I felt a bit traumatized myself. In reality it was one of my bodyguards who came out from behind another tree on the side of my house that shot the crazed man. My bodyguards were supposed to be watching over me, but they were in the backyard at the time they heard the shot rang out and they rushed out just in time to save my life. One of the bodyguards, with his immense training and quick reaction, shot the deranged man in the chest. I was not shot, just sprawled out on the ground after my jump and my bullet wound was merely a small stick that went into my stomach when I landed on the grass.
I quickly shook myself off and went over to the man who was literally shaking from the bullet wound that went through his chest and it appeared to exit from his back. He was lying on his side convulsing in a heap of flesh and blood; the bodyguards and I were in astonishment over what we witnessed.
I instructed one of the bodyguards to take the demented man's gun and handcuff him. Defiantly the bodyguard squealed, “Why would I handcuff this man, can't you see his body is ripped to shreds?” he yelled.
I shouted back my instructions as calmly as I could without losing my cool and I warned him, “Quickly, do what I'm telling you now!” He hesitated and I screamed, “Did you hear me, do it quickly or he will die!” I said.
With a look of blatant seriousness in my eyes, he obeyed. The bodyguard pulled the injured man's hands behind his back and handcuffed him. By this time the crazed gunman was quivering more violently. I pulled out my wallet, and with my hands trembling so bad I could almost not control myself, I somehow managed to get a wooden stick out. These special sticks are about the same size as a toothpick and extremely sharp on both ends. It was wrapped the same way as individual toothpicks are wrapped for restaurants. When I finally unwrapped the stick, I knelt down beside the bleeding man and told him, "You are not going to die, at least not today anyway!" And with that, I pierced the wooden stick directly into his shoulder area. As the stick sank deep into his pale skin, an instantaneous calmness came over his body and the violent shaking stopped. The bleeding stopped in the blink of an eye!
“0h my God," shrieked one of the bodyguards. "How did you do that!”
"This is the reason you are protecting me," I answered back. I was amazed and astonished just as much they were. Still, there was blood all over the clothes of the delusional man. Out of curiosity I ripped open the crazed man's shirt and, using the clean part of it, I wiped away the blood from his chest. “Nothing, nothing!” I blurted out. In utter amazement we looked on in incomprehension; there was absolutely no gunshot wound. The wound was completely gone, completely healed! It was as though nothing had happened to the crazed man's body.



This is just one scene in the amazing story of the healing sticks. Miracles of legs growing back, major politicians being healed and everything imaginable. The powerful blood of Christ, shed two thousand years ago, soaked into the wood of the cross which brought this healing power upon the earth.





Excerpt from last chapter:

The world scene was given the most wonderful and spectacular revival in its history. You could look up in the clouds and almost see the trumpets ready to sound. The signs were here and Christians waited with eager expectations. The Church was in its finest hour indeed and God was on the minds of almost everyone. The church of Jesus beamed in His glory as the love of God shined across the world in illuminating manner. The clouds above seemed to shout out the words of John when he revealed, "The Spirit and the bride say, `Come!' And let him who hears say, `Come!' Whoever is thirsty,let him come; and whoever wishes,let him take the free gift of the water of life." Jesus was standing at the door knocking on the hearts of every man, woman, and child and the response was miraculous. It was very common for folks to say as they were parting, in each their own language to one another from around the globe, "If Jesus comes today I'll see you in heaven!"
Maranatha.