Featured Articles
Blessed Obedience
By Joey Amezquita
I was born in Villa Palmeras (Shanghai), Santurce, a barrio in Puerto Rico, the second of four children. Like many housing projects, it is mired with social problems associated with chronic, multigenerational poverty.
Breaking Free from Poverty
Wanting a better life for his family, my dad joined the U.S. Army. (As citizens of the United States, Puerto Ricans have participated in every major U.S. military engagement since 1899.) This afforded us a much safer, middle-class lifestyle than we would have had if we had stayed in Villa Palmeras, but we moved a lot. My dad’s first orders were to Maryland. From there we would move to Fort Lewis in Washington state; then to Long Island, New York; then Fort Dix, New Jersey; and then to the Strassburg Kaserne base in Idar-Oberstein, a city in southwest Germany.
I loved Germany. Even though I was only nine years old when we moved there in December of 1984, I remember how breathtakingly beautiful it was. Instead of living in the barracks, we lived in a gorgeous, four-story house. We would play outside in the snow and run throughout the house’s secret passages that former occupants had used to hide Jews.
After twelve years of service to his country, my dad decided to leave the military in 1987 and relocate our family to Florida. Leaving Germany was tough. I was eleven years old and had to leave behind a strong core group of friends.
We would play outside in the snow and run throughout the house’s secret passages that former occupants had used to hide Jews.
I started working in law enforcement at the ripe old age of 19! Even though I was somewhat of a “class clown” growing up and a ringleader for good or mischief among my siblings and friends, my dream had always been to become a police officer to help the community. At that time my dad was working in probation and parole, and he and my high school sweetheart, Christina, encouraged me to pursue my dream.
I was employed August 15, 1995, as a corrections officer by the Polk Correctional Institution, a state prison for men located in Polk City, Florida. The inmates assigned to Polk Correctional Institution were male and had been sentenced for a period of anywhere from one year and a day up to a lifetime. The inmates at the work camp where I worked had less than five years left on their sentences before they would be allowed to go home.
Since I resided in Brandon, Florida, an hour away from the Polk Correctional Institution, I decided to transfer to the Orient Road Jail with the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Office in Tampa, and on November 3, 1997, I began my new assignment working the night shift at the Orient Road Jail. In January of 2000, I transferred to Morgan Street Jail and continued working on the night shift. Morgan Street housed federal inmates and approximately 50 county jail inmates.
Breaking Free from Sin
In June of 2001 my life changed forever. Although my dad was a loving father, he did not have a relationship with Jesus and had not modeled a godly lifestyle for me. I had been raised knowing there was a God, but I was missing a relationship with Him. I had a fear of dying and of the unknown.
Christina invited me to special services at a church called Tabernacle of the Faith of Tampa (Tabernaculo La Fe de Tampa). Two weeks earlier, her co-worker, Kathy, had invited Christina to the church and unbeknownst to me, Christina had given her life to Jesus Christ. She now had eternal life.
I agreed to attend the service and found myself setting foot into Tabernaculo La Fe. As I sat down in the pew and listened to Pastor Tejara preach, I felt as if he were looking right at me. When Pastor Tejara said that I was a sinner and hell bound, that if I were to die that day, I would be separated from God forever and spend the rest of eternity tormented in hell, I was so scared. I did not want to go to hell forever.
At that moment, Pastor Tejara asked anyone in the audience who wanted to give their heart and life to Jesus to raise their hands. I was nervous but also felt a peace I had never experienced before come over me. I raised my hand, repented of my sins, and accepted Jesus Christ into my heart as Lord and Savior. Christina and I were the first people in our families to give our hearts to the Lord. I bought my first Bible and started reading God’s Word and attending Bible study with Christina.
When I would get an assignment, I would pray on the way, asking the Lord to send His angels down and to help me be slow to speak and slow to anger and to give me supernatural peace.
Christina and I had been together since April of 1994, and the Holy Spirit began to deal with us about getting married. My good friend and co-worker Ed, who was a Christian, encouraged us to go to the courthouse and get married out of obedience to God’s Word. We made the decision not to wait any longer, and on February 22, 2002, Christina and I went downtown to the courthouse in Tampa and got married. This was the second most important decision in my life.
God honored and blessed our obedience to get married. When I started reading the Bible, the Word of God came alive and I felt such excitement, joy, peace, and fulfillment. I had never really loved to read before, but now I couldn’t wait to read God’s Word. I loved it so much. The Bible is the blueprint for life. Everything is in the Word of God: advice on finances, marriage, children, depression, sin, prophets, and godly living.
The more I read God’s Word, the more my faith increased. I no longer had a fear of the unknown and dying. I had an awesome supernatural peace and joy. I would pray before going into work. Often I would go into a cell with 30 inmates who had been convicted of murder and other violent crimes, and a peace would come over me.
Once one of the inmates, trying to intimidate me, asked, “If the door were to ‘accidentally’ close behind you and you were stuck in here with us, would you be scared?”
I boldly replied, “No, I would not be scared because I have an angel assigned to me and God will protect me and not let any harm come to me.” I quoted Isaiah 54:17: “No weapon that is formed against you will prosper” (NASB 1994). I told the inmate I didn’t have to physically fight him because God will fight all my battles. I let him know that I fear God not man, finished the cell search, and exited the cell.
Breaking Free of Barrenness
I started applying what I was learning from the Bible into my everyday life with my marriage as well as with my job. It was awesome. Years ago the doctors had told Christina she could not have children. Nonetheless, in 2003 my wife gave me great news: she was pregnant! We were overjoyed! I believe the Lord blessed us with this miracle by allowing her to have children because we were in right standing with God.
About this time, I was reading 2 Kings 22:1 and learned about this young eight-year-old king named Josiah. King Josiah, whose name means “the Lord will support you,” was one of the very few kings in the Old Testament that did what God asked him to do without hesitating. I love his story, so I wanted to name my son Josiah. However, my wife wanted Josiah to be his middle name, not his first name. Well, my mamma didn’t raise no fool, so we named our son Justin Josiah. (Happy wife, happy life!) In December of 2005 the Lord blessed us with a beautiful little girl we named Jayla. In February of 2009 the Lord blessed us with another beautiful girl we named Julia.
My wife used to worry about me, but I said, “Don’t worry; just pray,” and she did. She prayed for His protection over me. I prayed as well. When I would get an assignment, I would pray on the way, asking the Lord to send His angels down and to help me be slow to speak and slow to anger and to give me supernatural peace. I would come into a situation with the authority of God, and inmates could sense I was a Christian. One inmate from Cuba told me he knew I was going to be a pastor someday.
In 2003 the Morgan Street Jail closed, so I started working in the Falkenburg Road Jail Housing Unit 11. I am a “people person,” and the more I started reading the Bible the more I realized how easy it was to proclaim the Gospel (the Good News) to the inmates in the pods even though I had to be creative in my approach.
Breaking Free to Fruitfulness
Policy did not allow us to hold hands and pray with the inmates, but the inmates were allowed to have a Bible. I would have a few of them come up to my desk and open their Bibles to John 3:3-18, the passage about being born again and receiving eternal life. Then I would have the inmates turn to Ephesians 2:8, where it says, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – not by works, so that no one can boast” and also Romans 10:9: “If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” I wanted them to experience the written Word of God. One time there were five inmates around my desk with their Bibles open. I then proceeded to do an altar call right there in the pod, and all five inmates gave their lives to Christ. Praise God! I encouraged them to continue to read the Word of God and to sign up for non-denominational church services.
My family came to faith in Christ as well. In 2002, Christina and I were blessed to lead her younger sister Zenia to the Lord, who transformed her from a shy, young girl into a young woman who unashamedly uses her amazing talents to lead worship. In 2005 I had the privilege of witnessing my dad give his life to Christ at a men’s Promise Keepers crusade. My mother was a little more hesitant, not sure if my dad’s conversion was sincere. But in 2007, as she battled stage four breast cancer, she accepted Christ as her Savior as well. In fact, she would experience dreams and visions from God. She had a dream about Hurricane Maria before it devastated the northeastern Caribbean in 2017. She asked the Lord to keep it from happening, but He told her it had to happen because His people had turned away from Him. My mother also led other family members to the Lord.
We are able to proclaim the Gospel to many defendants and have led several of them to repent of their sins and accept Christ into their hearts.
Today I am one of two bailiffs working in the courthouse in the misdemeanor division. My partner, Deputy Wright, is also a strong Christian, a woman of faith. Every morning before we start morning court, we pray God’s blood of protection over the courthouse and the staff. We make sure to set a godly atmosphere in the courtroom. We are able to proclaim the Gospel to many defendants and have led several of them to repent of their sins and accept Christ into their hearts. I am thankful to God that He used my 26 years of working in law enforcement/corrections to share the Gospel.
In September of 2019, Christina’s sister Zenia and her husband, Carlos, began attending a Bible study led by Calbert and Beverly Mark, pastors of Open Bible Prayer Chapel in Wesley Chapel. The study so powerfully energized Zenia’s faith and that of her husband that they told my wife and me we had to come check it out. The Marks took our faith to another level. Soon our whole family, including my mother-in-law, Carmen, and Christina’s other sister, Yaritza, were attending the study. Christina’s friend Kathy started coming as well! Now Christina and I are planning to make another change in our lives, as I work toward becoming a licensed minister with Open Bible.
Calbert and Beverly Mark are native Trinidadians. Sent out from Trinidad as missionaries more than 27 years ago, the Marks established twelve pioneer works in Venezuela and were instrumental in planting churches in Trinidad and Colombia. Calbert still serves as the field director for Open Bible Churches in Venezuela. I was amazed that God would send a Trinidadian couple serving as missionaries in Venezuela to Wesley Chapel, Florida, to pour into our family, but He did just that!
About the Author
Having worked in law enforcement for 26 years, Joey Amezquita is a bailiff for the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Department in Tampa, Florida. He is a committed member and Sunday School teacher at Open Bible Prayer Chapel in Wesley Chapel, Florida, pastored by Calbert Mark. Joey and his wife, Christina, have three children.
Isaac dug out again the wells that were dug during the lifetime of his father Abraham. The Philistines had closed them up after Abraham’s death. Isaac gave them the same names his father had given them. Isaac’s servants dug wells in the valley and found a well there with fresh water. (Genesis 26:18-19 CEB).
I came to faith as a teenager and had very few church experiences up to that point. My earliest formation as a Christ follower took place within Open Bible church settings, where I found deep community and meaningful spiritual experiences that I continue to value. At the same time, as in many modern evangelical churches, there was limited exposure to the ancient liturgies and historic practices of the wider Church.
These traditional cornerstones that were foundational to ecclesial life for millennia had been almost eliminated in the churches I attended. It seemed to me that these practices were at best met with ignorance and at worst with grave suspicion. The predictable result was that any real understanding and appreciation for ancient liturgical practices was absent from the first two decades of my church life. I rarely thought about things like Ash Wednesday services, the Book of Common Prayer, and Advent, and if I did, it was with a healthy side dish of uninformed judgment. I viewed Lent the same way I viewed lentils: it was a cold and exotic experience that was both frightening to prepare and painful to consume.
I viewed Lent the same way I viewed lentils: it was a cold and exotic experience that was both frightening to prepare and painful to consume.
This was my context as a few of our church staff began asking whether we could introduce some of these ancient practices into our church worship experience. As you might imagine given my church background, it took me a while to warm up to the idea. I began a process of asking questions, listening, and learning, even reaching out to an Anglican priest friend to hear his take on the value of these long-held traditions. Through all this, Christ in His goodness and patience has allowed us now to incorporate many of these practices into our regular church experience. As a result, I am happy to report that we are experiencing wonderful depth and meaning in our gatherings as we’ve adopted and applied some of these long-proven elements of discipleship.
Our time of worship now always includes the public reading of a Psalm (a practice we have adopted from the Book of Common Prayer) to bring us back to the ancient hymn book of Israel. We have a fresh understanding of what it is to give up something physical in order to gain something spiritual as we fast in the forty days of Lent. Christmas time and the lighting of Advent candles help us celebrate Christ’s first arrival while reminding us to await His second arrival. And Ash Wednesday, with its outward sign of repentance and mortality, leads us to humble ourselves before God, understanding how desperately we need His saving grace. Finally, the celebration of life on Easter Sunday has far greater meaning now because it is preceded by the sobriety of the death we remember on Good Friday.
This is not to say that incorporating these elements has always been smooth. We’ve learned to introduce them slowly and with great attention to the “why” behind the “what.” Along the way, we’ve had our share of growth opportunities and mishaps. One example happened early on in our journey, when we tried to introduce some ancient call and response types of prayers. The practice led several people to worry that we had become a completely different kind of church. We haven’t yet reintroduced those prayers in our services.
We have found that moving slowly and consistently, explaining the meaning of the practices, and laughing at ourselves through our failed attempts have been the key ingredients to discovering the power of these ancient gifts.
Another example took place during last year’s Ash Wednesday service. During this type of service, ash is used to mark the sign of a cross on each believer’s forehead. This marking symbolizes our own mortality and repentance, as we take up our cross and turn from our sins. Well, our beloved worship leader wanted to add scent to the ashes to create a fuller sensory experience. To do so, he incorporated essential oils, including cinnamon, into the ashes. Little did any of us know that undiluted cinnamon oil burns on the skin. Talk about your full sensory experience. All of us in the service sat wondering what it reveals about our spiritual condition if the ash cross on our forehead feels like it’s on fire. There was a great sigh of relief when our executive pastor let people know what had happened, and a mad dash to the bathrooms ensued as people quickly washed away the painful marker. The next Sunday I formally apologized for turning their Ash Wednesday into a Rash Wednesday.
In these moments and more, we have found that moving slowly and consistently, explaining the meaning of the practices, and laughing at ourselves through our failed attempts have been the key ingredients to discovering the power of these ancient gifts. Just as Isaac reopened the ancient wells of his father to discover pure water, we too can rediscover the meaning of these ancient practices in our churches and experience their fresh water again.
About the Author
Aaron Sutherland is the founding pastor of Cove Church in Eugene, Oregon, and the Director of Multiplication for Pacific Region Open Bible. Along with his wife, Paula, he finds great joy in watching God reveal the new stories being written into the lives of people from every corner of the world.
Y volvió a abrir Isaac los pozos de agua que habían abierto en los días de Abraham su padre, y que los filisteos habían cegado después de la muerte de Abraham; y los llamó por los nombres que su padre los había llamado. Pero cuando los siervos de Isaac cavaron en el valle, y hallaron allí un pozo de aguas vivas. (Génesis 26:18-19, RVR-1960).
Me convertí al cristianismo en la adolescencia y, hasta ese momento, había tenido muy pocas experiencias en la iglesia. Mi formación inicial como seguidor de Cristo tuvo lugar en la iglesia de la Biblia Abierta, donde encontré una comunidad profunda y experiencias espirituales significativas que sigo valorando. Al mismo tiempo, como en muchas iglesias evangélicas modernas, el contacto con las antiguas liturgias y prácticas de la Iglesia en general era limitado.
Estos pilares tradicionales, que durante milenios habían sido fundamentales para la vida de la Iglesia, habían sido prácticamente eliminados de las iglesias a las que asistía. Me parecía que, en el mejor de los casos, estas prácticas se ignoraban y, en el peor, se miraban con gran recelo. El resultado previsible fue que, durante las dos primeras décadas de mi vida eclesiástica, no llegué a conocer ni a apreciar realmente estas antiguas prácticas litúrgicas. Rara vez pensaba en cosas como los servicios del Miércoles de Ceniza, el Libro de Oración Común y el Adviento, y, si lo hacía, era con una buena dosis de prejuicios. Veía la Cuaresma de la misma manera que veía las lentejas: una experiencia fría y exótica que daba miedo preparar y era dolorosa de consumir.
Veía la Cuaresma de la misma manera que veía las lentejas: una experiencia fría y exótica que daba miedo preparar y era dolorosa de consumir.
Este era mi contexto cuando algunos miembros del personal de nuestra iglesia comenzaron a preguntar si podríamos incorporar algunas de estas prácticas antiguas en nuestra experiencia de adoración en la iglesia. Como se pueden imaginar, dada mi formación eclesiástica, me llevó un tiempo aceptar la idea. Empecé a hacer preguntas, a escuchar y a aprender. Incluso me puse en contacto con un amigo sacerdote anglicano para conocer su opinión sobre el valor de estas tradiciones tan arraigadas. A través de todo esto, Cristo, en su bondad y paciencia, nos ha permitido ahora incorporar muchas de estas prácticas en nuestra experiencia eclesiástica habitual. Me complace informar de que nuestras reuniones tienen ahora una profundidad y un significado maravillosos en nuestras reuniones, ya que hemos adoptado y aplicado algunos de estos elementos del discipulado que han demostrado su eficacia con el paso del tiempo.
Ahora, nuestro tiempo de adoración siempre incluye la lectura pública de un salmo (una práctica que hemos adoptado del Libro de Oración Común) que nos transporta al antiguo himnario de Israel. Tenemos una nueva comprensión de lo que significa renunciar a algo material o para ganar algo espiritual mientras ayunamos durante los cuarenta días de Cuaresma. La época navideña y la ceremonia de encender las velas de Adviento nos ayudan a celebrar la primera Venida de Cristo, y a recordar que debemos esperar su segunda venida. Y el Miércoles de Ceniza, con su signo externo de arrepentimiento y mortalidad, nos invita a humillarnos ante Dios, y a reconocer cuán desesperadamente necesitamos su gracia salvadora. Por último, la celebración de la vida el Domingo de Pascua tiene ahora un significado mucho mayor, ya que va precedida de la sobriedad de la muerte que recordamos el Viernes Santo.
Esto no quiere decir que la incorporación de estos elementos siempre haya sido fácil. Hemos aprendido a introducirlos poco a poco, prestando mucha atención al «porqué» detrás del «qué». A lo largo del camino, hemos tenido nuestras oportunidades de crecimiento y nuestros contratiempos. Un ejemplo ocurrió al principio de nuestro camino, cuando intentamos introducir algunas oraciones antiguas de llamada y respuesta. La práctica llevó a varias personas a preocuparse de que nos hubiéramos convertido en un tipo de iglesia completamente diferente. Todavía no hemos reintroducido esas oraciones en nuestros servicios.
Hemos descubierto que movernos lenta y consistentemente, explicar el significado de las prácticas y reírnos de nosotros mismos a través de nuestros intentos fallidos han sido los ingredientes clave para descubrir el poder de estos antiguos dones.
Otro ejemplo ocurrió durante el servicio del Miércoles de Ceniza del año pasado. En este tipo de servicio, se utiliza ceniza para trazar una cruz en la frente de cada creyente. Esta marca simboliza nuestra propia mortalidad y arrepentimiento, y representa el momento en que tomamos nuestra cruz y nos apartamos de nuestros pecados. Bueno, nuestro querido líder de adoración quiso añadir aroma a las cenizas para crear una experiencia sensorial más completa. Para ello, añadió aceites esenciales, entre ellos canela, a las cenizas. Ninguno de nosotros sabía que el aceite de canela sin diluir quema la piel. Hablando de una experiencia sensorial completa… Todos los que estábamos en el servicio nos sentamos preguntándonos qué revelaba acerca de nuestra condición espiritual el hecho de que la cruz de ceniza de nuestra frente pareciera estar ardiendo. Hubo un gran suspiro de alivio cuando nuestro pastor ejecutivo informó a la gente de lo que había sucedido, y se produjo una carrera loca hacia los baños para lavarse rápidamente la dolorosa marca. Al domingo siguiente me disculpé formalmente por haber convertido su Miércoles de Ceniza en un Miércoles de Erupción.
En este y en otros momentos, hemos descubierto que avanzar lentamente y con constancia, explicar el significado de las prácticas y reírnos de nosotros mismos ante nuestros intentos fallidos han sido los ingredientes clave para descubrir el poder de estos antiguos legados. Al igual que Isaac reabrió los antiguos pozos de su padre para encontrar agua pura, nosotros también podemos redescubrir el significado de estas antiguas prácticas en nuestras iglesias y volver a experimentar su agua fresca
.
Sobre el autor
Aaron Sutherland es el pastor fundador de la iglesia Cove Church en Eugene, Oregón, y director de Multiplicación de la región del Pacífico de la Biblia Abierta. Junto con su esposa, Paula, disfruta ver cómo Dios escribe nuevas historias en la vida de personas de todo el mundo.
I wonder what happened on all the August 5ths throughout my life. I experienced forty-seven of them as an innocuous number on the calendars of my life: unremarkable, ordinary, plain. I breezed past them without a thought and left them behind without a thought, too.
I will never forget my forty-eighth August 5th. For the rest of my (hopefully) long life, every 5th day of August will be marked in red and circled with a thick highlighter of remembrance. That is the date my husband Josh and I received the phone call that every parent dreads – the kind you read about in someone else’s story and pray never crosses into your own.
But on August 5, 2025, it did.
Fear is many things at once: a glacial wash that starts on your head and drains to your immobilized feet, a taste in your mouth and a sound in your ears, and a fist that strangles your throat.
We were on top of a mountain in Idaho during a church staff retreat when the Life360 app on my phone — an app our family uses to share locations and receive crash or emergency notifications — suddenly and jarringly blared a warning, alerting me that our middle daughter, Adelaide, was involved in a critical incident.
I cannot explain the cold fear that washed over me in that moment. That kind of fear is many things at once: a glacial wash that starts on your head and drains to your immobilized feet, a taste in your mouth and a sound in your ears, and a fist that strangles your throat.
Many frantic minutes later, a deputy called us to let us know that our daughter was involved in a serious car accident and was not doing well. We continued to learn, as we scrambled off the mountain, that she was being life-flighted to the hospital…and that was all we knew.
For nearly two hours.
Fear does another thing: it slows time down to a minuscule crawl that leaves you weeping, screaming, and shaking your fist at the world as you drive at “safe” speeds to where your daughter lies in an unknown state without you.
I will spare the reader from those moments of agony: the prayers that dripped onto my lap, the pleading and begging, brokenness too intimate for anyone but my Father to understand.
I put on the full armor of God in a way I never understood before and will never misunderstand again.
One of the sweetest moments of my existence is the moment I first saw my daughter’s beautiful face as she lay on the emergency room’s gurney, smeared in blood but oh-so alive. Her voice asking if anyone else was hurt, her precious feet sticking out from the blanket, and her fingers curled in mine. The fifth of August will always hold that breathtaking image in my heart.
Adelaide sustained many traumatic injuries from her accident. For that entire first night in the ICU, I was bent over her in prayer, overwhelmed with both terror and joy, each one warring against the other and trying to take control. I battled in prayer for my girl that night, refusing to back down and contending with ferocity. I put on the full armor of God in a way I never understood before and will never misunderstand again.
I kept repeating the 8th and 9th verses of Isaiah 58, sometimes whispering them, sometimes sobbing them, but always experiencing them. There are promises in the Word that you no longer just read but experience; there is a knowing that changes your entire world.
Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: ‘Here am I’ (NIV).
I called out to Jesus, and He didn’t have to run to answer because He was already there, holding not just me in His arms, but Addy as well.
As I called out to Him, He kept saying, “Here am I.” He continued repeating those words, never growing weary of saying them to me— it was His liturgy over me.
“Here am I.”
“Here am I.”
“Here am I.”
I could hear His love, see His protection, and feel His Presence.
The healing He provided was as stunning as the first break of dawn, filling my feeble world with light. Adelaide’s lacerated lungs were miraculously sealed the next morning. Doctors came into her ICU room and were stunned to see my sweet girl smiling back at them, her healing defying the accident she endured. Today, she wears her testimony on her leg in the form of a gnarly scar, and it is proof of the Lord’s providence and healing that she loves to share with others. He guarded Adelaide on every side, and His purpose went before her. The glory of the Lord was her rearguard, and for that, this momma will never stop praising Him.
Every August 5th and each day that He gives.
*To read more from Melissa and what God has taught her through this event, read her related article: Five Things I Didn’t Know I Needed to Learn About Prayer.
About the Author
Melissa Stelly serves as the executive pastor at Turning Point Church in Spokane, Washington, alongside her husband, Josh Stelly. She has attended Turning Point for thirty-four years. She is the mother of three daughters, adores camping, hiking, and adventuring, is a voracious reader, and considers Mt. Rainier one of the greatest accomplishments the Lord created. Most days in her free time you will find her curled up with a good book or taking a long walk.
