Our Volumes

It was a beautiful Saturday morning. The kind of morning that seemed peaceful and ordinary, never giving us any indication that our lives were about to change forever.

My mother had gotten all of her children ready for a family trip to Key West, Florida. Everyone was getting into the car, and my mother made sure we were all inside and buckled up. I was only two years old at the time.

As my mother prepared to leave, my father was looking out from inside the house. He walked toward the car and told my mother that the tires on the car were not in good condition. Something inside him caused him to stop and take me out of the car.

I was only two years old. I could not possibly understand what was happening or why my father had decided that I should stay behind. At that moment, it may have seemed like a simple decision. But that decision would ultimately change the course of my life.

My mother continued on the trip with my brothers and sister.

About two hours later, tragedy struck.

They were involved in a horrific accident.

One of my brothers was left hanging from a train trestle. Another brother was thrown from the vehicle and lost his life. My mother and my sister had to be cut out of the car by rescuers.

The family trip that had started on a beautiful Saturday morning had become a nightmare.

As I look back on that day now, I realize that my father was not being selfish, and he certainly was not showing that he didn’t care. He reacted to something he saw and made a decision that, at the time, he probably could not have understood the importance of.

He took me out of that car.

That one decision spared me from experiencing the tragedy firsthand. I was only two years old, but my life was protected in a way that I could not understand then.

For the rest of my life, I will be forever grateful to my father.

Sometimes, we look back at the moments in our lives that did not make sense at the time and later realize that there was something greater happening behind the scenes.

What seemed like a simple decision was much more than that.

It was protection.

It was purpose.

It was a blessing hidden inside a tragedy.

I believe that something greater was working in my favor that day.

My father may have thought he was simply protecting me from a car with bad tires. But looking back now, I believe God was protecting my life and preserving my purpose.

I survived a tragedy that I was never supposed to understand as a two-year-old.

And perhaps the greatest part of the story is that I am still here.

This is where my story begins.

When we go to the hospital, we put our trust in the doctors. We trust their knowledge, their experience, and the reports they give us. We expect them to tell us the truth about what is happening with our bodies.

After all of the car accidents I experienced—thirteen accidents in a row, none of them my fault—the doctors examined my X-rays and gave me some devastating news.

They told me that my spine had been severely damaged because of the many impacts it had endured. According to their report, the damage was so serious that I would be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life.

The report was not good news for me.

So, what do you do when something is completely beyond your control?

Do you simply accept the report?

Do you allow someone else’s words to determine your future?

Or do you believe that there is something greater than yourself?

I chose to believe in something greater.

I did not believe the report would be the final chapter of my story.

That is where my journey took a different turn—a journey filled with signs, wonders, and miracles.

Today, when I look back at everything I have experienced, I realize that I am living proof that sometimes the report is not the end of the story.

I am a miracle.

Not because I ignored what the doctors said, but because I refused to let a diagnosis define the limits of what I believed was possible for my life.

My story is a testimony of faith, perseverance, and believing that there can be something greater beyond what we can see.

I was involved in thirteen car accidents—all in a row, within what seemed like an unbelievably short period of time.

None of the accidents were my fault. Each one was the result of someone else’s negligence. I could only drive one vehicle at a time, yet somehow I found myself facing accident after accident.

There were ten lawsuits, one after another. Settlement after settlement came, and many of them were resolved in what seemed like record time. In three of the other accidents, I chose not to press charges.

But there was one situation that was especially unusual.

The Accident I Wasn’t Driving In

After everything I had been through, I decided to stop driving for a while. I allowed my wife to drive instead.

Then she got into a car accident.

When the state trooper arrived, my wife told him that I was the cause of the accident.

But there was one problem:

I wasn’t even driving!

How could I be responsible for an accident when I wasn’t behind the wheel?

Looking back, this was just another chapter in a story that seemed impossible to explain.

The Backdrop

Before all of these events unfolded, I had been attending the Schools of the Prophets led by Apostle Danny Mandell in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.

One evening, before our graduation, Apostle Mandell invited a prophetess to speak to our class.

There were more than one hundred people in the classroom that night.

As the prophetess began speaking, something unexpected happened.

She immediately pointed in my direction.

Her assistant came over and brought me to the stage.

The prophetess looked at me and told me that she saw a glow and an aura around me.

Then she began to speak words over my life.

She told me that I would receive money in the mail.

She told me that I would be the head and not the tail.

She told me that I would be above and not beneath.

She told me that I would be the lender and not the borrower.

I received those words and said,

Amen.

But after that night, it seemed like all hell broke loose.

The thirteen accidents, the lawsuits, the unexpected events, and everything that followed became part of a journey I could never have predicted.

Yet through it all, I continued to look for the signs, the wonders, and the miracles.

Sometimes the greatest miracles don’t look like miracles when we are going through them.

Sometimes they look like chaos.

Sometimes they look like impossible circumstances.

Sometimes they look like setbacks.

But when you survive what should have destroyed you, you begin to see your story differently.

There are moments in life when we think we are simply making a decision, only to discover later that we were being led toward a much greater purpose.

This is one of those stories.

My neighbor in Howard, Florida, lived next door to my mother’s house at 8877 Southwest 127th Terrace in Miami, Florida. One day, he asked me if I would be willing to attend his ordination service. He was being ordained and wanted my support.

I agreed.

He gave me the time and the location: Gaffney, South Carolina.

I made my way there, and while I was in South Carolina, I met one of my cousins, Tim. He knew of a place where boats were being sold. I decided to purchase a boat and began making my way back toward Florida.

I was excited about my new boat and wanted to test it out.

But I also remembered that my friend’s ordination was going to be held on Sunday.

It was Saturday when I passed by my house and continued toward Monroe County and the Florida Keys.

By this time, I realized I was not going to be able to make it to the ordination service.

I called my mother and told her, “Please tell him I’m sorry. Something came up, and I wasn’t able to support him.”

I continued farther into the Keys.

Alone at Sea

Somewhere in the Lower Keys, I took my boat far out into the water.

I went so far that there was nothing around me but ocean. No buildings. No people. No nearby land in sight.

I anchored my boat and started fishing.

Sunday morning came.

It was around 10:00 a.m., and the sun was hot.

But the fish weren’t biting.

Not one.

I became frustrated.

I started thinking about my neighbor and wondering how I was going to explain that I didn’t show up to support him because I was out fishing in my new boat—and I hadn’t even caught anything!

As I sat there sweating and thinking about what a bad idea this had been, something happened that I will never forget.

I heard a whistle.

Then I heard it again.

A whistle.

In the middle of the ocean.

I looked around.

There was nothing around me but water.

Then I heard the whistle again.

I looked behind me and saw someone in a light jacket holding onto a jet ski.

She was sinking.

And she was sinking fast.

The Rescue

I immediately pulled up the anchor, reeled in my fishing rod, and headed toward her.

When I reached her, I discovered she was a Spanish woman.

I brought her aboard my boat, but she was so exhausted that she could barely speak.

I started heading back toward shore.

She was tired, weak, and exhausted.

Eventually, she was able to speak.

She looked at me and said, “Thank you for rescuing me. I was on my last breath. I was out in the middle of nowhere, and then you appeared.”

Then she told me something else.

There were other people who needed to be rescued. They were stranded on an island.

She asked if I would take her there to help rescue them.

She even offered to pay me if I would take her to the island.

I agreed.

I pulled the jet ski along with me, took her back toward the island, and helped rescue the other people who were stranded.

Everyone made it safely.

What started as a day of fishing in my new boat turned into a rescue mission.

A Miracle at Sea

I had been upset because I wasn’t going to my friend’s ordination.

I was disappointed because I wasn’t catching any fish.

I was questioning why I had even decided to take that trip.

But what if I had gone to the ordination?

What if I had stayed home?

What if I had never bought that boat?

What if I had not gone into the water that day?

What if I had anchored somewhere else?

What if I had ignored that whistle?

There are some questions that we may never be able to answer.

But I know this:

I was in the right place at the right time.

What I thought was a wasted Sunday became an opportunity to save lives.

I thought I was going fishing.

Instead, I became a rescuer.

Sometimes what looks like a wrong turn can lead you directly to your purpose.

Sometimes the place you think you shouldn’t be can be exactly where you are needed.

And sometimes, when you hear a voice—or even a whistle—in the middle of nowhere, you have to be willing to listen.

That day at sea became one of the most memorable moments of my life.

It reminded me that miracles can happen anywhere—even in the middle of the ocean.

One incident from my teenage years is something I will never forget.

It was a Saturday morning, and I asked my mother if I could go fishing.

She said yes.

I gathered my fishing rods and headed out to a canal in Miami-Dade County, near the Falls and U.S. 1. There was a railroad trestle that crossed over the canal, and that was where I decided to fish.

As I stood there, I could see bass, brim, and catfish swimming in the water below. I was focused on fishing, hoping to catch one of them.

Then I felt it.

I was getting a bite!

At that very moment, I heard something.

A train.

I heard the horn.

I looked up and realized the train was already right on top of me.

It was so close that if I had stood up, the train would have hit me.

I didn’t have much time to think.

Something inside me told me:

“Lay down!”

So I did.

I laid flat on the railroad trestle.

And then the train came.

It ran completely over me.

The train seemed to go on forever. One car after another passed over me.

I was underneath the train, lying there, unable to do anything but remain still.

During the chaos, my fishing rod fell into the canal below.

Finally, the last train car passed.

Silence.

I got up.

I was alive.

But something told me to look down at the exact place where I had been lying.

When I looked, I saw something that left me amazed.

There was a dug-out hole underneath where I had been lying.

That hole was exactly where my body had been.

Then something else told me to look across the rest of the train trestle.

I looked at the white rocks covering the area.

The rocks were everywhere.

Every square inch of that area was covered—except the exact place where I had been lying.

I stood there trying to comprehend what had just happened.

I had gone fishing that morning.

I never expected to become the person who was literally run over by a train and lived to tell the story.

But somehow, in the middle of that terrifying moment, I was directed to lay down.

And there was a place for me to lay.

A place that I believe was prepared for me before I even knew I needed it.

Saint Missionary Baptist Church — Miami, Florida

Pastor Willie Baker was the pastor of the Saint Missionary Baptist Church in Miami, Florida.

This chapter of my life is difficult to explain because, at the time, I did not understand what was happening to me.

I had been married four times. Although those marriages did not work out, I loved all of my wives.

My ex-wife, Kassandra, and I were living in Miami, Florida. One night, we were lying in bed when I looked at the digital clock on our dresser.

It was 3:33 a.m.

At that time in my life, I considered myself an atheist. I did not believe in God. I was only attending church because my ex-wife attended.

Then something happened that I could not explain.

I heard a voice speaking to me in my mind.

It told me to get up, pick up my Bible, and open it.

It was dark.

I got up and did what I was told.

Then I was instructed to go into my closet.

But my closet was packed with clothes, so I couldn’t understand why I was being told to go there.

Then the voice directed me to the bathroom.

I went into the bathroom.

In my mind, I kept hearing:

“Psalms, chapter one, verse one.”

I opened the Bible in the dark.

Then I turned on the light.

When I looked down at the Bible, I was exactly where I had been instructed to go:

Psalm 1:1.

I was stunned.

Something changed inside of me.

I began prophesying throughout my house.

I thought I was going to die.

I felt as though I had to tell everyone who would listen what I believed the Spirit of God was telling me.

My wife.

My sons.

My daughters.

My community.

My church.

My church became a witness to what was happening to me.

“Your Voice Changed”

The following Sunday, after my ex-wife had called people and told them that something was wrong with me because I had been prophesying, I went to church.

But I was different.

I felt that I had received authority from above.

Everyone seemed to recognize that something had changed in me—everyone except me.

Then, while I was standing near the water fountain in the back of the church, Ms. Peggy Brooks, the youngest daughter in her family at the time, looked at me and said:

“Mr. Jones, your voice changed.”

Those words opened my eyes.

At that moment, I felt as though I had been physically and mentally born again.

I will always be grateful to that young woman for helping me recognize what I could not yet see for myself.

I believe God had given her a special gift.

The Warning

During this time, I believed the Spirit had given me a warning concerning the church and Pastor Baker.

I believed the message was that Pastor Baker had three years to get his “house” in order.

I did not believe this meant the physical house where he lived or paid taxes. I understood it as a spiritual warning.

Eventually, Pastor Baker called me into his office.

He told me that if the Spirit of God had come, it would have come through him because he was the head of the church.

After that conversation, he put me out of the church.

The very next day, Pastor Baker went into the hospital with jaundice.

The Hospital Visit

At the time, I was working for an electrical company out of Deerfield Beach, Florida.

My brother Kenny Gardner and I were preparing to travel to Tampa International Airport to work on a fiber-optic project.

Before I left, I felt strongly that I needed to go to the hospital and visit Pastor Baker.

So I went.

Pastor Baker’s wife was there when we arrived.

When we entered the room, Pastor Baker opened his eyes and then closed them again.

We prayed together.

We sang together.

And before I left, I forgave him.

Then I walked out of that hospital room.

I had done what I believed I was supposed to do.

Two weeks later, I received a phone call.

It was my ex-wife.

She was crying.

She told me:

“Pastor Baker has died.”

I was devastated.

Pastor Baker had accepted me at a difficult time in my life. Even though I had been through prison and made many mistakes, he had allowed me into his church and accepted me.

For that, I will always be grateful.

My Reflection

May Pastor Willie Baker rest in peace.

When I look back on this experience, I remember the warning I believed I had received—that he had three years to get his house in order.

I also remember that he rejected what I believed was the Spirit of God speaking through me and removed me from the church.

I cannot claim to know exactly why Pastor Baker died when he did.

What I can share is what I experienced, what I believed I was told, and how I interpreted what happened afterward.

This story is part of my testimony.

It taught me that sometimes we encounter things we cannot explain. It taught me to listen, to forgive, and to recognize that we do not always understand the purpose of something while we are living through it.

There are moments in life when you find yourself somewhere you never expected to be, doing something you never imagined you would do.

For me, one of those moments happened on 103rd Street Northwest in Miami, Florida, in the projects at Silver Blue Lakes Apartments.

I believe the Spirit of God led me there.

If it had been completely up to me, I would have asked, “Why in the world would I go to a place like this to preach?”

At the time, Silver Blue Lakes had a reputation for being a rough place. It was not somewhere I would have expected to stand in front of people and deliver a sermon.

But I went.

I was visiting my best friend’s wife, Ms. Betty, and Ms. Rhonda. Her daughter, Mercedes, was there as well.

Then something happened that I had never experienced before.

I preached.

I was on fire!

I had never preached a sermon before in my life, yet something came over me, and I spoke with a passion that surprised even me.

When I finished, Mercedes brought me a bottle of cold water.

I remember that moment because I was exhausted, but I also felt something inside me that I could not explain.

But Why Me?

That’s the question I kept asking.

Why was I preaching?

I didn’t even believe in God at the time.

People had been telling me that I was glowing.

People had been telling me that I was chosen.

But I had questions.

Could this really be happening to me?

As I look back now, I believe the answer was yes.

And let’s get real.

I believe I am doing this because I care.

I care about people.

I care about what happens to us.

And as I have gotten older, I have realized that life is precious.

Death is closer now than it has ever been.

But there is something beautiful about the promise of faith:

Death has been conquered.

For those who believe, tomorrow is still filled with hope.

The Word of God tells us that He will never leave us nor forsake us. It also tells us that He is preparing a place for us, and that where He is, we will be also.

Look at Me Now

The man who once said he did not believe in God is now saying something completely different.

I am a believer.

Praise the Lord!

My journey did not happen overnight.

It happened through experiences.

Through questions.

Through miracles.

Through moments I could not explain.

Through moments when I felt led somewhere I did not want to go.

And through moments when I realized that maybe my life had a purpose greater than what I could see.

If you have been questioning your own beliefs, your own purpose, or whether there is something greater than yourself, I encourage you to open your heart and consider the possibility.

Maybe this is your time.

Remember:

Something greater than us exists, and I believe it is working for our good.

A Message of Faith

The Bible teaches that if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.

That is the faith I have come to believe in.

And that is the message I want to leave with you.