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I Am No Longer the Man I Was

By Michael K. Jones

  In 1984 I was in need of a very special blessing, so there I was, an atheist, on his knees praying to the “invisible man.” I quickly realized talking to someone I can’t see, seemed foolish. Somehow I managed to muster up enough courage, talked to the wind and said, “Okay, Jesus, this is Your chance, give me this special blessing and You will have a friend for life.” Much to my surprise and delight, I received the blessing during that prayer. My life completely changed after this! For example, I never prayed, but now I could pray at the drop of a hat. And witness, boy could I witness! I was self employed and every time I worked for a new customer I would witness about my special blessing and confess my love for Jesus. I was born again! My friends all wondered how a confirmed atheist could make a complete turn around. The answer was elementary, like Scrooge in Charles Dickens’s classic, A Christmas Carol, I was no longer the man I was.

  From winter of 1984, my nose was constantly inside the Scriptures, and I loved every minute. In spring of ‘89 my life was about to take a greater step beyond anything I could ever imagine. One day while witnessing to a lady, she handed me an envelope saying that inside were clippings of travel agents going to a place where the Virgin Mary is appearing. I had no interest in pilgrimages or the Virgin Mary for that matter, but I smiled and took the envelope. When I got home that night I cleaned my pockets and put the envelope on the bottom shelf of my coffee table and thought no more about it. I never looked inside.

  While in prayer some days later, I heard a voice that said, "I want you to go to Medjugorje." At first I ignored the voice but the voice remained insistent. The voice continued over the next few weeks often times waking me in the middle of the night. Upon waking me, the voice would tell me to look at the clock. I found the numbers on the clock to be of equal value, example: 1:11, 2:22, 3:33, and so on. The voice would say, "I want you to go to Medjugorje." Though this is a strange event, even stranger is the fact I had never heard of Medjugorje, I had no clue what it was.

  One evening while talking to my sister, I told her about the voice. I tried to pronounce the word Medjugorje but failed. My sister said, “Medjugorje? I’ve heard of it.” It seems her parish priest, Fr. Kelly, was taking a group of people to this little village in a Socialist country, where they say the Virgin is appearing. This was not my idea of a great vacation but I asked my sister to get me an appointment with this priest. I called a week later to find out about the appointment, but her husband told me that Father was a busy man and most likely would not have time to see me.

   Hanging up, thinking on all this, I noticed the envelope the lady had given me on the bottom shelf of my coffee table. I had the impression the envelope was jumping at me, which is why it caught my attention. Written on the envelope was the word, “Medjugorje.” This was the first time I had noticed this, and I knew whatever I was looking for was inside.

   I quickly pawed through a dozen or so clippings and one caught my eye that said, “Rome and Medjugorje for $1219.00.” I knew instantly I was going on this pilgrimage. As I read on, it said, “Under the direction of Father Arnold E. Kelly, St. Rita’s Church, Lowell, MA.” This was my sister’s parish priest, who lived 100 miles away. Shocked, I called my brother-in-law insisting I meet with Father. After meeting with this delightful priest, I signed up for the 1989 pilgrimage to Medjugorje.

  On the fourth or fifth day of the pilgrimage, I climbed Mt. Krizevac. I was standing by the right side of the cross taking pictures of the miracle of the sun. I turned to a voice that said, "Hello, my name is Agnes." I said hello and told her I was not trying to be rude but I had to take pictures of the sun. Agnes said, "Do not be concerned, God will give you the pictures He wants you to have." She gave me a flower and told me God loves me. She said God wanted me to have the flower. I said thank you. Then she said, "I have to go now." When I looked for her a moment later she was gone.

   I met Agnes again when we were an hour away from leaving Medjugorje. My roommate was following me around because I tearfully told everyone I didn't want to go home. My roommate, Bill, walked with me to Saint James Parish one last time. While walking back to the house where we were staying, I was again telling Bill I did not want to leave. The tears were swelling up in my eyes again. All of a sudden, Bill said, "Michael, I think someone is calling you." I turned around and there was Agnes. As I walked closer to her she must have seen my sadness. She hugged me, and as she was doing so, whispered in my ear saying, “You have to go home now and spread the message.”   My sadness left me, and Agnes walked away with two nuns dressed in habit.

   As I reflect on this, I wonder: How can a woman, who briefly touches my life on top of a mountain in a strange land, be able to recognize me from my back side several days later, and then remembers my name, knows what I am feeling, and tells me that I have to go home to spread the message? What are the chances?

   I experienced many miracles before, during and after my visit to Medjugorje, far more than I can describe in the space available in “The Spirit of Medjugorje.”

   I returned home realizing I no longer believed in God. I had gone a step beyond, I KNOW God exists. I will never doubt in His existence again, no matter what may happen to me for the rest of my life, be it good or bad. Knowing God exists is for me one of the greatest miracles of all.

   Today I am Catholic, and the Virgin Mary who I had no interest in, I now call “The Rose of my heart.”  I run a Medjugorje website that has some 500 thousand visitors each month from around the world and I am the founder of The POW (Purgatory Oblation Warrior) Apostolate which has over 2000 members worldwide. Later this year my book, Medjugorje Investigated will be available, based on U.S. State Department documents I have requested be declassified. Truly I am not boasting but simply stating that there are no more “Bah Humbugs” Scrooge’s here.

  So if you are looking for a best friend, try getting on your knees and praying to the “ invisible Man.”  It worked for me. Just maybe you too will find your best friend.

Editor’s note:  Michael lives in E. Wareham, MA.  This was a condensed version of his testimony.  To read the entire story you can visit his website at www.medjugorjeusa.org  

First Name: Nicki