He Clothed Me with His Grace

By Sotar Alfonso-Lloyd

I never viewed myself as anyone special until I experienced my Lord's companionship, love, grace, forgiveness, and compassion. God was the only One who did not see my failures as condemnation. He saw me as a human being whom He chose to veil with His sweet fragrance called grace. For this reason, I want to tell others about Him. Therefore, when

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: Sep 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781647732776

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He Clothed Me with His Grace

An Autobiography: The Story of My Life Experience with God, Who Is Most Transcendent in My Life

Rev. Dr. Sotar Alfonso-Lloyd

Trilogy Christian Publishers

TUSTIN, CA

Trilogy Christian Publishers

A Wholly Owned Subsidiary of Trinity Broadcasting Network

2442 Michelle Drive

Tustin, CA 92780

Copyright © 2020 by Rev. Dr. Sotar Alfonso-Lloyd

All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture quotations marked (KJV) taken from The Holy Bible, King James Version. Cambridge Edition: 1769.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

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Trilogy Christian Publishing/ TBN and colophon are trademarks of Trinity Broadcasting Network.

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Trilogy Christian Publishing.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Trilogy Disclaimer: The views and content expressed in this book are those of the author and may not necessarily reflect the views and doctrine of Trilogy Christian Publishing or the Trinity Broadcasting Network.

Please Note: All of the people’s names herein were changed for the protection and privacy of those whom God has placed in my path, with the exception of my immediate family and the two writers who wrote the letters at my last Protestant service in the Veterans Affairs New York Harbor Healthcare System, St. Albans Campus Chapel.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 978-1-64773-276-9

ISBN 978-1-64773-277-6 (ebook)

Contents

Preface ix

Acknowledgements xi

Introduction xiii

Chapter 1. The Beginning of My Journey 1

God’s First Call on My Life

Changes to Come

Life in New York

Gaining Strength from the Invisible Hand

Chapter 2. God’s Hand is Moving 27

Stepping Out in Faith

My Faith Being Tested

God Has Spoken

God Continued to Speak into My Life

Chapter 3. Just Believe 57

Whom Do You Believe?

When Fear Surpassed Faith

Chapter 4. Seeking God in the Hurricane 73

Called for Obedience

Foreseen Vision Manifested

The Underlying Battle

The Gentle Voice in the Darkness

Chapter 5. God’s Molding Hands 101

The Discovery of the Depth of My Spiritual Nature

God is On the Move

Preparation for God’s Work

Chapter 6. Transformation 131

The Handprints are on the Wall

In Compliance with God’s Command

The Birth of My Assigned Ministry

Confirmation

Listen, My Stubborn Child

Professor Ben’s Testimony

The Path

Chapter 7. You Are Commissioned 179

The Opening Door into Ministry

When I Refused to Allow Fear to Take Control

Seeing and Calling It What It Is: Ungodly Behavior

The Time to Claim and Establish

Chapter 8. Connecting Seasons with My Ministry and My Journey 223

The Season of My Ministry

My Season in the Year 2008

Connecting the Seasons in My Ministry with My Personal Life

Seeing the World Through a New Lens

Chapter 9. The Next Step 257

Revolving to a Higher Level

The Weary Road that Whispers, Give Up

Reaping the Harvest

Change of Progression

Chapter 10. Pick Up Your Cross and Follow 301

Looking for the Life Jacket

Searching for the Eyes That See All in the Storm

Above Me Stood My Lord

The Removal of the Walls

When Darkness Comes Knocking Again

Chapter 11. Promotion: Phase II into Ministry 361

Notification of Release

Life in the Lions’ Den

Chapter 12. The End of This Part of My Journey 413

God’s Favor

The Time of Farewell

Epilogue 431

Closing This Chapter of My Life

What Does the Future Hold?

Dedication

I would like to dedicate my life story to Elohim, my Creator. Because of Your persistence I am still in existence today. It is through Your continually active connectedness within me and through me that I have this fundamental life history of the essence of my existence to share with many. May the words of truth written about You, my Lord, be pleasing and glorifying to You, my heavenly Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Preface

Today, January 31, 2013, marks the one-month resignation of my position as the full-time Protestant Chaplain at the U.S. Veterans Affairs New York Harbor Healthcare System. This resignation instruction was given to me by Lord Jesus Christ in October 2012. Today is the last day I will have any connection with the U.S. Veterans Affairs New York Harbor Healthcare System, my former employer, because I received the last direct deposit funds into my bank checking account. Today is also the first time I have felt freed by the Spirit of God to put my spiritual connection of faith by His grace in a book, an insight my Lord gave my daughter, Katherine in December 2012 but He only revealed to me today. So, here I am today, a young immigrant woman from Trinidad, a woman who came to America on a visitor’s visa intending to change the course of her life for the sake of her children and herself. But El Shaddai, who is El Rio, had a different plan for my life, and He took me and is still carrying me on a path I never expected to experience, and I can’t fully explain. For despite the high mountaintops and the low valleys, the joys and the suffering, the blossoms and the pruning in this life, I have walked and currently walking a path that clearly display the invisible hand of God as He orchestrates my footsteps.

Acknowledgements

I am thankful to the following people who assisted me in this work:

My parents, who have a great impact on my life, Bernard and Veronica Alfonso

Mr. Eugene A. Lloyd, my husband, who has always supported me.

Declan Garcia and Sunil Bann, my sons, whom I love very much.

My wonderful daughter, Katherine A. Lloyd, to whom God spoke to first in December 2012 in reference to this project before He revealed it to me on January 31, 2013. She has been my faithful assistant and spiritual advisor, Katherine Lloyd also design the cover for this book.

Crispin Gomez aka Ann Marie, my sister, who uses her creativity in this ministry. You are special and very gifted.

To my friends who mentored me in writing this book and provided exemplary encouragement and support throughout my writings that allowed me to relive my life history. Along with my family in Christ whom provided constructive collegiate critique of this work

Many, many thanks to all for their blessings and dedication.

Introduction

As I look back upon that young woman, I realize that in order to accomplish such dreams, God took me on a road of pain, grief, suffering, laughter, joy, prayer, surrender, and obedience. It is only now that I realize that I have a story to tell and that others played a large role in how that story has unfolded. Whether the other players’ roles brought pain, grief, joy, or laughter, they each helped me to grow and mature in my spiritual life in Christ.

Every sentence in my story had value, because within every chapter of my life, God had added meaning to it. When I reflected on my life, I detected plots without nuance and characters without clear motives, but they all built the person I became and am becoming. Every time my story changed, and with everyone I meet I expand. My shifting narrative gave me a fresh understanding of who God is in my life. While the essence of me did not change, the Light embedded within my soul gradually emerged and translated into who I am today. That Light prompted me to examine my life, and it eventually illuminated horizons I am only now beginning to see. It was only through placing God into my story when He entered my life that I am able to understand the direction my life has taken. Even so, as I found myself within Him, He has granted me vision for my life, allowing my imagination to connect what I could not yet see with what can be seen by bringing the words trust Me, which all led me into the mystery called faith and allowed me to follow.

I know full well that it is only by His cloak of grace that I can stand here and say, Faithful, faithful is my God. Thank God for mercy and grace. My Lord Jesus Christ, You are very true to me. With great love, I hope my life history of God’s grace inspires many in their stories of faith. May my testimony and story strengthen your faith in the Trinity and draw you closer to the Godhead: The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

As the Word of God says:

Then He said to me… This is the word of the LORD… ‘Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit,’ says the LORD of Hosts.

—Zechariah 4:6 ESV

Chapter 1

The Beginning of the Journey

God’s First Call on My Life

Growing up, I always felt like an outcast in my family. As my parents’ first child, I finished secondary school, but not with grades that would permit me to obtain a teaching job. My childhood ambition was to follow in the footsteps of my mother and become a teacher. I recalled my father saying to me one time that I would amount to nothing. But who would have thought him wrong because I once lived a life that grieved any parent?

At age eighteen, I attended a special Roman Catholic charismatic mass in my hometown Roman Catholic Church. The Church was full to capacity—standing room only. The mass ministered to me. I felt overwhelmed and the desire to know more. After the mass, I approached the speaker, asking how I can receive Jesus Christ in my heart. With that question, the speaker took me to the front of the congregation and asked, I wonder how many of you would like to know, as this young lady, how to receive Jesus Christ in your heart.

To the speaker’s amazement and my own, 85 percent of the congregation stood up. This sacred moment took my breath away. However, that divine moment was short-lived. I returned to my old lifestyle, and it took control, leaving me very unhappy and miserable.

I was living in my parents’ house when at the age of eighteen, I had my first son, and at the age of twenty-three, my second son. I was unmarried with two children from two different men. There were times when I would leave my sons with my parents and head to work on Friday. My parents would not see before Monday afternoon. On many occasions my father wanted to put me out of his house, but by the grace of my mother, she would not allow him. This lifestyle went on for four years after I had my second son.

As time passed, I became more despondent. I was working with a retail agency as a bookkeeper making a salary that was insufficient to support myself, much less two children. I had no interest in returning to school at that time. Therefore, the choices I made were destructive, not only for me but also for my children. By God’s grace I never smoked, nor was I an alcoholic. I just loved to party, looking to be in love from the wrong people. Thanks to my mother, I did not have to pay rent, pay any utilities, or buy food. My mother is an angel whom God gave to me. She did not have much, but God blessed the little she had combined with my father’s provisions.

To be honest, I did not enjoy my childhood because of my father. He was the disciplinary parent in our household. I recall being beaten on many occasions. I still have a scar on my right shoulder from a beating I received at age sixteen. I wrote a love letter to a male friend who was promised to another female companion. I mailed this letter to his house, placing my return address on the letter. My friend’s companion received the letter and took it to my parents. I remember coming home from school that day and seeing the letter on the table. My heart sank, and fear froze me in my steps, standing next to the table in my school uniform. I then heard my father’s voice behind me. My mother left the room immediately.

My father said very sternly, Yes, pick that up and read what you wrote.

In fear, I started to read with my hands shaking and my heart pounding in my chest. As I proceeded with his command and got to the second line in the letter, I felt the belt—which was the belt from a vacuum cleaner—landing on my back with full force. I fell to the floor, rolling around as lashes after lashes came down upon me. I don’t know how many lashes I received, but I knew it was quite a few because I thought this beating was not going to end. I remember sobbing loudly because my whole body was burning from each lash. I recall crawling in a corner, trembling and crying nonstop when I was told to be quiet.

Although this took place forty-two years ago, it feels as if it recently took place. These are painful memories, but they are the reality that made me who I am today, someone who is loved by God. At the time I did not understood, but in a sense, I thank God for my father because of his no-nonsense attitude. That characteristic I inherited helped me to survive by the grace of my Lord. My oldest child, Declan, and sister, Ann Marie, informed me that I have the trait of my father, not in terms of physical discipline, but rather in his no-nonsense attitude. I think it may be true that the parent you grew up disliking is the most, for whatever reason is the one you may become.

I moved out of my parents’ house in 1988 to live with a male companion, leaving my children with my parents. However, I would visit them and take them occasionally for weekends. It was coming to the end of 1988 when I concluded that this relationship was not going anywhere, and I needed to end this unproductive relationship. But I did not want to return to my parents’ house. In late November of that year, on one of my visits to my parents’ house, I saw both of my sons had scars on their backs. My father had given them a beating that no one could have justified. Immediately I experienced the phenomenon of transference about my own childhood beatings. My children were eight and three years old, and I wondered what in the world an eight-year-old and a three-year-old could have done to deserve such harsh treatment. But, due to my fear of my father, I did not confront him. I was extremely angry, but I was powerless. I knew I had to move my children out, but the question was, to where? I could not financially support myself, much less my sons. How I struggled with this anger and pain silently within my soul, crying out to my God.

It was on January 1, 1989, I awoke feeling a heavy burden within me (I now know that burden was the Spirit of my Lord) that my life in Trinidad had come to an end. I just knew within myself I had to leave my country if I wanted to see changes in the quality of life for both my children and me. I just had the foreknowledge granted by spiritual wisdom that I had to travel to the United States of America. Within myself, I knew this was the turning point of a major life change. I could not fully explain it at that time, because I was not walking with the Lord as I am today. But even back then, His hands were directing me and remolding me. I like to term this new becoming the Potter reshaping His clay (see Isaiah 64:8).

His faithfulness is beyond measure: The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged (Deuteronomy 31:8 NIV).

However, the question was how I would obtain an American visa. I had no assets, no money, no job that the United States Embassy would accept because of my low annual salary. Therefore, the America Consulate officials would categorize an applicant such as myself a high-risk. I felt like I was fighting with myself within. At first, I thought that this feeling was a fiction of my own imagination, but as the month of January 1989 proceeded, the more restless within myself I became. I shared this concern with a friend of mine, who gave me the name of a person who was capable of assisting me to obtain a visa with the few required documents I had. I was given a name, Mr. John, and his address. Mr. John coincidently lived approximately half of a mile from my parents’ house.

I felt uncomfortable visiting a stranger to ask for help obtaining an United States visa. All sorts of negative thoughts invaded my mind. I finally found the courage to force myself to visit Mr. John the following evening.

Arriving at a beautiful white house with light green trim, I stood at a heavy iron gate and called out, Good evening. Not knowing what to expect, I stood with ragged nerves at the thought of what I was doing.

I had called out twice when a group of dogs behind the gate came barking at me. I stepped back a little from the high fence to protect myself, when I saw a man approximately six feet tall with broad shoulders and light complexion with a military bearing was about halfway across the well-flowered front yard with a gravel path that cut straight through the aisles of the yard that led to the large white iron gate. He came to the gate and called out to the dogs to be quiet. Based on his command, the dogs instantly stopped barking.

His voice was not welcoming when I heard him say, What do you want?

I replied, I came to see Mr. John.

His eyes locked with mine as he responded, For what reason?

With a shaky voice that exposed my fear, I responded, I was told he would be able to assist me in obtaining a visa.

The gentleman paused and continued looking at me straight in the eyes with an unfriendly facial expression. He then dismissed the dogs that stood quietly behind him and easily swung the heavy white iron gate open. He then led me to the front veranda without saying if he or someone else was Mr. John. However, at a loss for words, I bravely followed him when he abruptly stopped in the middle of the veranda. Without receiving an invitation to sit, I stood before him.

When he said, Who sent you here to me? I realized that he was Mr. John.

I gave him my friend’s name, and in reply to that, he bluntly stated, I don’t know that person.

He then continued asking me more questions, for example, where I lived, who were my parents, what were my plans for the future, why I wanted to go to the United States, and so forth. After I told him my father’s name, he informed me that he knew my father. They grew up together. He politely asked me how my father was doing, to which I stated he was doing well.

After the interrogation by Mr. John, he stated, Because I know your father, Ben, I will help you, but you are to make something of yourself when you get to the United States.

I replied, I will, I promise—

Before I could finish my statement, Mr. John interrupted me and said, You are to be at the Embassy on Friday at nine a.m. Get there on time.

By his body language, I knew our conversation had ended. I then proceeded to the gate with Mr. John walking behind me. I opened the gate, and as I was about to say thanks and good-byes, Mr. John just locked the gate and returned into his house.

I tried to process what had just taken place, but I failed to comprehend. I very much appreciated the assistance. Also, to my amazement, Mr. John never charged me for assisting me. But his statement penetrated my soul. These words were more than words to my hearing. They were words of confirmation because Mr. John never met me. Therefore, I took these words at great value, making me determined to change my life, not only for my own sake but most importantly for the children God placed in my care. I was responsible for their well-being so my goal in life was to make a better life for my children.

It was a hot early morning on Friday, February 3, 1989, when I stood outside the gates of the of the United States Embassy in Trinidad and Tobago at 15 Queen’s Park West Port of Spain, Trinidad. During that time period, no appointment was required; it was first-come, first-served. Therefore, it was important to get there extremely early. The procedure was to form one line, in which all applicants would stand behind each other. At 8:45 a.m. a guard would issue numbers to each applicant. There was a cutoff time when the Embassy consulate would stop seeing applicants, with no exceptions. There were significant numbers being issued that the Embassy knew would not go over the cutoff time. When that last number was given out, any applicants behind that person would not be seen and would have to return another day. The numbered applicants were divided into two sessions: morning and an afternoon session.

I arrived before 6:00 a.m. for the 9:00 a.m. opening because of the great demand for United States visas. I can’t recall what number I was given, but I was among the first group of people that was admitted before noon. When my number was called, I stepped up to the window fearfully because I did not know what to expect. I stood before the consulate officer with a glass window separating us. He looked up at me. His facial expression indicated that he was expecting me. I looked around for Mr. John, but he was nowhere to be seen. I was not sure if he saw me standing outside or from the cameras in the waiting area and indicated my presence to the officer. I am unable to say to this very day where Mr. John may have been in the room, but I do know he had a great role of me obtaining an American Visa.

I was asked for my documents. Feeling unsure, I submitted the few documents I had with me. The consulate officer looked up at me again. He returned the documents I gave him, but he kept my Trinidad and Tobago passport. I was told to return at 1:30 p.m. I returned promptly. I was called again to the window, and my passport was returned to me without any words spoken. As I walked away, I opened my passport. I had received a visitor nonimmigrant visa stamped into my passport, dated February 3, 1989, with an expiration date of February 2, 1990. I was overjoyed, for surely God’s grace went before me.

O Lord, that is the reason You are called …Yahweh-Yireh (which means ‘the LORD will provide’) (Genesis 22:14 NLT).

Changes to Come

I first informed my parents of my plans to leave Trinidad. My father was not pleased. He concluded I was just going to America to continue my rebellious lifestyle. My father saw no or little chance of my life improving there. My mother, in contrast, was optimistic. She had foreseen something in me that I did not even knew I had within me, which was persistence to survive. Therefore, she supported my intentions and promised to take care of my sons until I could send for them. I then informed the gentleman with whom I was living with, I was leaving. It appeared that he knew that this might happen, and we separated on neutral ground with no strings attached.

I then notified my children without giving them the opportunity to voice their thoughts or share their feelings. My attitude appeared to be that their opinion did not matter because of their age. I only realized long afterward how terribly this lack of consideration affected my children. Up to this day, my oldest child has not forgiven me for leaving him behind, and he holds me responsible for his own rebellious lifestyle.

I had no money to purchase the airline ticket from British West Indian Airways. Therefore, I borrowed the money and purchased a two weeks’ vacation airline ticket and left Trinidad on Friday March 10, 1989, with no money in my wallet, leaving my children with my parents. My oldest son’s grandmother, Ms. Jones, was living in New Jersey. She arranged to pick me up at JFK Airport. I was to live with a friend of hers, Ms. London, on St. Marks Street, in Brooklyn. I landed on a frigid night at JFK Airport just before 10:00 p.m. I did not have suitable clothing for the weather, which left me freezing, although Ms. Jones was kind enough to give me a coat.

The LORD had said to Abram, Leave your native country, your relatives, and your father’s family, and go to the land that I will show you.

—Genesis 12:1 NLT

Life In New York

Ms. London owned a small apartment building. She occupied one of the one-bedroom apartments on the second floor. A friend of Ms. London’s, Edna, lived there, as well. I slept on the floor in the living room, but I was very appreciative for the accommodations. I got a temporary part-time job cleaning houses that lasted a few weeks. I lived with Ms. London a little less than a month because my presence became unwelcome. It was a very cold early April night when Ms. London started shouting, accusing me of running up her heat bill and breaking the handle of her lamp. I must confess I was new in this country and had no knowledge of a heating system involving a boiler. The country I came from was a tropical country and required no gas or oil heating. However, in the daytime Ms. London’s apartment was freezing. On the days when I wasn’t assigned a house to clean, I would be in the house shivering. Edna would turn the cooking stove on for us to get some heat, not realizing this would cause an expense. It was later on when I was informed that Ms. London programed her heating thermostat so that the heat would run from late evening to early morning. There was no heat during the day unless the temperature dropped to a certain degree.

In Ms. London’s anger, she stated that I needed to find somewhere else to live. I sat in the stairway outside the apartment crying because I had nowhere to go and no money. I can’t remember how long I had sat in the stairway, when Trevor, one of Ms. London’s tenants who lived next door, saw me. I asked him if I could use his telephone to call my mother. My mother informed me of a cousin named Sherry (my father’s niece) who lived on President Street in Brooklyn. Trevor and I were talking in the