For a year and a half, I walked the streets of Central Florida, preaching the gospel with fire in my heart and conviction in my voice. It was all rooted in my home church, Believer’s Fellowship, under the guidance of Pastor Wayne Friedt. We evangelized with passion, reaching the lost, moved by the Spirit’s relentless call to see lives transformed.
But my journey began much earlier.
I was six years old when the Holy Spirit filled me, and I spoke in tongues for the first time. Even as a child, I walked in an awareness of God’s presence, a relationship that shielded me through many trials and family struggles. By thirteen, something within me had ignited into a new level of zeal—I found myself standing on the streets of Tampa, preaching to grown men about the love and salvation of Jesus Christ.
At fourteen, I encountered a scripture that changed my life forever: “I baptize you with water, but He who comes will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matthew 3:11). I remember reading those words, gripping my Bible in my hands, and believing with absolute certainty that if God promised it, then it was mine to receive.
I closed my eyes and spoke to the Lord: “Father, I know I have been baptized in water, but I have not yet been baptized in fire. What is this fire, and how do I receive it?” I placed a demand on heaven that day. “You said it in Your Word, so I am asking for it now.” I prayed fervently, but nothing happened. Instead of discouragement, I became even more determined. God could not lie. His promises were good. And I would keep asking until He answered.
Every day, after school, I would go into my room, step into my walk-in closet, shut the door, and begin to pray in the Spirit. I sought the baptism of fire with an intensity that only grew stronger each day. For weeks, my prayers filled that closet. On Sundays, I walked up for prayer at the end of each church service, hoping that maybe—just maybe—this would be the moment. Pastor Wayne would pray over me, and I would feel the presence of God, but the fire had not yet come.
By the fourth week, my mind was consumed. I sat through the Sunday sermon, but all I could think about was the prayer line at the end. That was when a thought—no, a whisper—came to me: “You keep asking for yourself, but what if you asked for someone else? What if you stood in the gap for another?”
I now believe it was the Spirit of God leading me into a divine setup.
That Sunday, I walked forward again, but this time, I asked for prayer for my younger brother, Steven. As Pastor Wayne moved down the line, I felt the Spirit of God begin to overwhelm me. When he stood in front of me, he asked what I needed, and I told him I was standing for my brother’s blessing. He nodded and reached out his right hand to place it on my head.
The moment his fingers touched the curls of my hair, the power of God struck me like lightning. My body dropped backward with such force that my feet remained planted while my knees bent unnaturally, and my head crashed against the concrete floor with a resounding impact. The sound echoed through the sanctuary, and gasps filled the room as people watched in stunned silence. Yet, I felt no pain—only the overwhelming, electrifying presence of God consuming every fiber of my being. My entire body tingled, pulsating with the fire I had been praying for.
I lay there for twenty minutes, unable to move, barely able to process what had happened. When I finally sat up in the front pew, still dazed, Pastor Wayne approached me with concern.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” I answered. “I don’t feel any pain.”
He studied me carefully. “Tell me, did you see or feel anything when I prayed for you?”
I recounted what had happened, still not realizing what had actually occurred. That’s when he said something that would remain with me forever:
“Well, I’ve never had this happen before—and to this day, it has never happened since—but when I laid hands on you, I literally saw a ball of blue fire shoot from my hand and into your forehead.”
In that moment, the weight of it all came crashing down. I had received exactly what God had promised me. I had been baptized in fire.
The Dream of the Fireball
Not long after, I had a dream. I was seated in the front of the sanctuary during a Sunday service. A storm raged outside, lightning flashing through the windows, and a leak formed in the ceiling above the front pew. The ushers rushed to fix it, climbing a tall A-frame ladder.
Then suddenly, above the ladder, a bright ball of fire appeared. It was the size of a large grapefruit at first, but then it expanded to the size of a basketball. Inside the flames, I saw the face of Christ.
Gasps filled the room. People whispered, “It’s Jesus.”
Then, just as quickly as it had grown, the fireball shrank back to its original size and began moving—floating down the aisle toward the sanctuary doors. It passed right through the glass without burning it, leaving only a charred mark on the surface. Pastor Wayne and I stood at the doors, staring at the blackened glass, both of us trying to understand what we had just witnessed. And then I woke up.
A Journey Unfolding
Shortly after, my life took a turn. I had to leave Florida and move to Georgia to live with my father. It was years before I returned to Believer’s Fellowship at age 21. When I did, I threw myself into ministry, growing in faith, leading, serving, and seeing God move in incredible ways. But at 28, the Lord called me away once more. He sent me into different ministries, places of power and healing, and community transformation. He led me into higher education, preparing me with wisdom and understanding for something greater.
Now, I stand at the age of 54, having earned a Bachelor’s in Organizational and Ministerial Leadership, a Master’s in Ministerial Leadership, and a Master of Divinity. Every step of my journey has been preparation for this moment. I am about to embark on my first 40-day fast, led by the Holy Spirit, and I know with certainty that everything is about to change. The fire that baptized me 40 years ago is rising again—not just for me, but for the world around me.
I walk forward now, not just as a man, but as one consumed by the very presence of Christ. The fire is not finished. The journey is still unfolding. And the best is yet to come.
Thesnomanreport 