My name is David Palmisano, and I praise and thank the Lord for my salvation. Three years ago, I believed the earth was billions of years old, that the theory of evolution was as sure as gravity, and death was the same as before I was born into the world: no consciousness before entering, so logically, no consciousness through the exit.
My favorite comedians were Bill Hicks, Bill Maher, and George Carlin who have routinely blasphemed God. The Bible to me was nothing more than a compilation of Jewish fairy tales, and the people who believe it I regarded as adult kindergartners. The notion that God wrote the Bible was as absurd to me as the Pope riding around in the Pope Mobile. Therefore, when people would use the Bible to prove the Bible, it was absurdity upon absurdity. I couldn’t believe it if I tried.
Shortly, after learning how the United States Nazi government perpetrated the controlled demolition of the World Trade Center, I became a participant of the “Zeitgeist Movement” and aligned myself with internet documentaries such as “Kymatica,” and listened to speakers such as Michael Tsarion, David Wolfe, and other New Age gurus. I was also into the “Commercial redemption movement” and was a participant of such groups as “Creditors in Commerce” and “New Trust Technology.” I thirsted and hungered after hidden knowledge and truth. I was searching for an answer to the question “How do I get out of the Matrix?”
I had previously regarded Jesus Christ as another figurine knick knack like Santa Claus.
However, one night after watching a video series entitled “The Labyrinth of Truth” on YouTube, something told me that Jesus Christ was a threat to this overwhelming New World Order. I asked myself, “If Jesus Christ is some made up superstition like Santa Claus, then why all the flack—from believers and non-believers?” I was an atheist, but even I couldn’t reason why Jesus Christ was given all this attention if He never even existed. They don’t make signs about Santa Claus about whether or not he exists. If Jesus is the equivalent to Santa Claus, then why all the flack? There’s really not much flack in believing in Buddhism or Paganism or even Satanism. I realized, “Wow, Jesus is more offensive to the world than Satan!” I really enjoyed this notion of Jesus Christ being more offensive that Satan, and began professing Jesus Christ on Facebook, and one by one, I was de-friended by a multitude.
A couple weeks later after some debaucheries and escapades and my internet being cut off, I felt as if I had swam too far from the shore of basic morality. I had the Bible sitting in front of me, and I was reminded of that “Labyrinth of Truth” video that really made me interested enough to read the Bible. Once I began reading it, I remember it felt like a shelter and hiding place. I didn’t want to stop reading it.
A couple weeks later, I was being faced with an abrupt eviction by my grandmother, who I was living with at the time, and my uncle. They made flagrant accusations and wanted me out immediately even though I was paying rent and was helping around the house. Something told me to say “Jesus” to them. I asked them, “Do you believe in Jesus Christ?” Their whole body language changed, like they were hearing the screeching of nails on a chalkboard. And I thought, “Wow, this really works!” My uncle called the cops and they came over and had no idea why they were called out there. And the hostile situation was squashed as if it never even happened. And I realized, “Wow, Jesus just delivered me from this situation!”
That night I decided to say a form of the sinner’s prayer that I found on the internet. I said to myself , “Ok, I’m saved. Now what do I do?” The first thing that I noticed was that I became very aware of my cussing and using curse words. In about three weeks, I had completely stopped cursing. But I wasn’t satisfied with just being saved and that’s it. I wanted more; because I knew I was still sinning in every other area of my life.
Some person on the internet told me, in matter of words, that having faith in Jesus meant to just sit back and continue in my self-centered life and let Jesus clean me up. Another person told me that all my works were dirty rags so I am not supposed to do any work and said that doing work is denying the faith. Something told me there’s more to Christianity than just being saved and sitting on the couch and loafing my way to Heaven. So I kept reading the Bible to find the truth, because these people weren’t making sense to me. I read in Matthew 5:44 “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you.” Something told me to do this. So, I prayed for my uncle who made a false police report on me. About two or three weeks after I prayed for him, he came over and took me out and bought me lunch at the Golden Corral and was polite to me for the first time in my life. This definite answer to prayer really stirred me to pray much, much more. The Bible was now interactive to me, not just a bunch of stories. I began talking to God like my friend and bringing the Bible with me everywhere I went. One night, I decided to read the Bible to my grandma who had lung cancer. I read her the gospel of Matthew. After we went to sleep, I heard her screaming: “AHHH, I’M BEING PULLED DOWN THROUGH THE BED! DON’T LET HIM TAKE ME! A MAN WITH A MASK IS TRYING TO PULL ME DOWN INTO THE EARTH!” I didn’t know what to say other than “ACCEPT JESUS CHRIST! ACCEPT JESUS CHRIST!” I stayed with her until she calmed down and went back to sleep. But I realized that I had hit a nerve with the invisible spiritual world. This was for real.
I prayed, “Lord, where do I go from here? My grandma is going to die, and I’m not going to have a place here anymore. Where do I go?” I thought to myself, “Oh well, I’ll probably move up north into northern Michigan to live alone and to be away from society when it collapses.”
A couple of weeks later, a friend from Facebook and Skype called me a night before my grandmother died and invited me to his house in Oregon to help him with his eviction and to “fight the powers that be,” because I knew something about the law. I prayed, “Lord, you’ve answered my prayers so far, I believe this is You answering me again, so I will go.” So the day after my grandma died, my uncle told me to get out of the house as I expected he would, and I was ready to make my departure from Port Huron, Michigan to Central Point, Oregon, a 2,400 mile trip in a 21 year old Toyota Corolla station wagon, equipped with totally shot wheel bearings, oil leaks, an overheating engine, rotted tires, one broken headlamp, no heat, no a/c, a broken passenger side mirror, inaccurate speedometer, fake insurance, and furnished with 8 five-gallon plastic gas containers of gasoline in the back, which I had stored up in a garage in the event of economic collapse.
After about 3 days on the road, something told me to stop and check my oil. I checked it and there was no oil reading on the dipstick! And my GPS said the next gas station was at least 50 miles away. I prayed “Lord, give me a place to get some oil!” In as little as about 5 minutes later, this saloon appears in the Nevada desert. I stopped and walked in and asked a bunch of cowboys sitting at a table, “Can anyone give me some oil? They were very friendly and got the owner to bring me an entire case of motor oil! I was back on the road and the next day I finally made it to my friend’s house in Central Point, Oregon with not a single scratch on me, without blowing up, without being pulled over, without an accident or incident.
I was presented with an impossible situation with very little time to prepare. His house had been foreclosed for 2 years and now the Federal Government through their agency Fannie Mae was about to give him the heave hoe out the door in 2 weeks. Again, I went to God, “Lord, I don’t know what to do here. Give me something to win this thing.” Through a person on the internet, I got the answer from God: “Put in a motion for discovery for the original promissory note, the wet ink signature.” It worked. The judge ruled that Fannie Mae needed the original promissory note to be considered the real party in interest, therefore my friend was awarded his duplex house with clear title and all court costs included. A house in which he owed nearly $150,000 was now his free and clear.
Meanwhile something told me that my life had a much higher purpose than just helping this guy. I was still sinning, and I knew I had to stop, and I couldn’t. And suddenly all these questions came like a flood: “Was I really born again? Did I actually experience salvation or was I just putting on some outward show? How can
I be saved if I don’t feel saved? Do I have the capacity to even be saved? Is there something wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? Can I really be this callous? Do I shudder at all or feel the slightest bit sorry for my sins? How could I be so callous and nonchalant and say I love Jesus? Each question had the common denominator: “I, I, I, and ME, ME, ME.” The flood of hopeless and despair overwhelmed me. I was desperate to do anything to be saved. I asked my friend, a professing Christian, to baptize me in his hot tub. And so he agreed and I got baptized in his hot tub, and continued in my sin approximately 30 minutes later. And the despair flooded me with the thought that it was impossible for me to be saved. No matter how hard I tried to not sin or be a good person or to love God with all my heart, soul and strength, I failed. Everything I did was sin. Every breath was sin.
Self-pity saturated me. I had read of the born again experience where people were changed. But as for me, I had so nonchalantly accepted the Lord as if I were ordering through a McDonald’s drive thru. I was profane from the very outset of this pilgrimage. I sought help on the internet through Facebook from people calling themselves Christians who couldn’t help me even if they wanted to. It was the blind seeking the help of the blind, limp, deaf, paralyzed, plastic, professing followers of another Christ. I prayed, “Help!”
I eventually joined a group on Facebook which exposed the Vatican. I met a lady who told me her supernatural testimony about how she got saved. I had never heard anything like that before, but I believed her and could tell she wasn’t making it up. She sent me a newsletter from the Tony Alamo Ministries entitled “Be Ye Transformed.” I read it and knew this is what I was looking for: To be changed. The invitation was in the message to join the ministry and become something entirely different, a new creature in Christ, more than just a man or human being, but a Son of God.
I researched the ministry and found that it was under intense persecution from the mainstream media, portraying Tony Alamo as some kind of crazy nut job. I knew everything they were saying about Tony was all lies, because Tony was exposing 9-11 and going against the Vatican. But I still prayed “Lord, give me a sign or something to make me know I’m supposed to go here.” And there appeared to me a line of crosses which stood out to me on the road. I took that as my cue. I straightway left Oregon for Los Angeles on September 1, 2011.
When I arrived here at the Los Angeles Tony Alamo Church, I was delivered from the bondage of sin that I was in, and I knew I was in the House of God, and I was out of the prison cell of sin. The Lord gave me the revelation that the only way to be a Christian is to continually fall backwards onto Him, and it is totally safe to fall backwards on Him who suffered so much for me. Therefore I love Him, because He loved me beyond the beyond, despite myself, despite everything about me, He allowed Himself to be mutilated and humiliated for me and plunged into Hell for me. And to prove He has the power over my flesh, He rose from the dead. The Lord is literally MORE FAITHFUL THAN GRAVITY!
Through the messages that the Lord has given Tony, I learned that the liberty in Christ is only available through the cross, looking unto Jesus on the cross for me, and by continually gazing upon that, I know that I am safe enough to fall backwards into His loving hands to do everything that He commands. The Son has set me free and I am free indeed in serving Him and Him alone. I experience the blessed riddance from self that no “ism” can achieve, not Buddhism, not Luciferionism, certainly not Catholicism, not atheism, not agnosticism, not Paganism, and not Christian Fundamentalism. It’s only through and by and for and with the person Jesus Christ who is the Way, the Truth and the Life, that Heaven can be experienced here and now.
In my previous life, the internet was my life, but now prayer is my internet. I am thankful for the Lord’s mercy He has had on me and planting my feet here at THE Ministry— not a Ministry—and giving me THE World Pastor Tony Alamo who is way more than just “hot” for the Lord, but went NUCLEAR over 40 years ago for the Lord and continues to plow through all persecution, totally undaunted, because of Christ. I am happy and thankful that the Lord has delivered me from the bondage of confusion of my own feelings and set me on the straight and narrow way to pledge my head to Heaven.