Believe in What You Can't See: A True Story of Dark and Light Forces

By Jaxx Wylde

Have you ever thought there is more than what religion teaches?

Have you ever had experiences that you couldnt explain?

Jaxx Wilde experienced hauntings, voices and attacks that no one could explain, or stop. Horror movies pale in comparison to some of the paranormal attacks he and those close to him experienced. With his religious beliefs not working he decided to dive into the dark forces to find answers.

This is a simple story of a search for truth that goes from religion to the depths of hell and back.

Jaxxs quest takes him on a mind-blowing journey through sex, drugs, organized crime, and satanic cults before finally coming to spiritual truths revealed through supernatural forces from the light side.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Jan 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9781504369220

Jaxx Wylde

Jaxx Wylde has dedicated his life to finding spiritual truth which has earned him an honorary doctorate. That search cost him everything: marriage, friends, careers, children, and left him bedridden with chronic illness, dependent on a small disability pension, and a trunk full of prescription medications. A spiritual elder traveled over 2500 miles to find him, and mentored him to better understand the spirit world and who we are in relation to it. Through his teachings, Jaxx began to believe in himself again, and slowly gained his health back and re-established his career. With a new lease on life, Jaxx became an advocate for those with health issues. The tragic death of his son prompted Jaxx to start a foundation to inspire and motivate youth to believe better is possible. Jaxx continues his search while teaching others what he has already learned.

Book preview

Prologue

H i. My name is Jaxx Wylde, and I will be honest, I’m not a writer.

I’m not a storyteller, but I’ve been told I have a story to tell. It’s not your average story.

My story shows again and again the mercy, grace, love, protection, and guidance of the divine. God longed to have a relationship with me, and stopped at NOTHING to get to me. Even when I tried to run, I couldn’t get away from Him.

And believe me, I tried. I ran as hard and as far as I could in the opposite direction. I managed bars, I bought strip joints, I made proposals on escort agencies, and I even did business with the local MC (an international Motorcycle Club allegedly linked to organized crime.)

I prided myself on getting people to say, You’re surely going to hell!

My response always was, God has to create a whole new hell for me. Satan doesn’t want the competition.

If there was good, I wanted to destroy it, and I was good at it. Although I was raised in the church, I realized that what I was taught as a child was a lie. I saw the corruption, the control, the judgement, the lack of love. The police and politics I was raised to respect only cared about making money, not protecting and helping those who needed it. The sanctity of marriage was destroyed for me when I found out that my wife never stopped sleeping with other men. Even the career I had worked eighteen to twenty hours a day, for five years to build, was stripped away from me at age twenty-five, just as I was reaching three million dollars in net.

As my world collapsed, the devil took a personal interest in me. He actually had a personal interest in my whole life. Childhood memories, once blocked in my mind, turned into living nightmare horror shows in my daily life, and unleashed hell on anyone who entered. Pastors wouldn’t come to my house, prayer never worked, even psychics asked me to leave and never come back.

I learned later that satanic ritual abuse was what started it all. Even the police and the FBI were involved. I was so angry. If this was what was crumbling my life, I was ready to run with it, or even better, overrule it. And yet, the divine was there through it all, blocking me, protecting me, working through me even when I totally refused. I experienced several divine nudgings, divine suggestions, yet I refused to heed the call. That is, until I received my divine storm…

CHAPTER 1

One Big, Divine Storm

M y story begins July 28, 2001. At 10:30 p.m., I experienced my divine storm. Having given up on life, the social system, and the morals of man, I decided to get into bed with an international MC (a motorcycle club whose members were allegedly linked to organized crime). I had a representative in the car, and we were buying equipment for the business we were starting. I was driving down the road at forty miles per hour. I shoulder checked to change lanes, and before I knew what had happened, we were going backward. Things were flying through the air as glass and metal flew past my head. All I could see was bright lights and dark tunnels; the radio flew out of the dash over my head as we suddenly stopped. I seemed to be in and out of it. I looked over at John, my passenger, who fought to get my head out from between his ankles.

You okay? he said. Come on, man, the police are coming. We need to get this shit out of here!

John got out and walked to the vehicle behind us. He was wearing his leathers to support Red & White. It was a sight to see. You! he said right to the terrified occupants. You are going to help me pick this up, and then you are going to take it to my storage unit, where my girlfriend is going to meet you. You give her the key, and you’re free to go! They did as John said without question.

I later found out what had happened that night. Witnesses explained that an SUV jumped the median. They said that they thought he was going to land on top of our vehicle. At the time of impact, I was going forty miles per hour and was headed north. After the impact, I was pushed backward sixty feet into the curb, and my car was pointing to the south. The impact broke the back axle off the car, and it caused everything in the car that had flown forward in the crash to fly backward, through the back window and onto the lawn. Doctors later told me that if I was a smaller guy, I wouldn’t have made it. I had my seatbelt on, which tore me up; my collarbone and ribs were dislocated, my diaphragm was torn, and I won’t go into detail about what it did to my groin!

When they hit my car, I had one arm on the wheel and the other behind the passenger seat. My chest muscles were torn in the crash, and because my head was turned and snapped forward, I was left with possible minor brain damage. As a result of the accident, I developed a horrible series of physical complaints, including fibromyalgia, chronic pain, myofascial pain syndrome (MPS), and neurological problems. They put me on a disability pension. Once they determined that I had no broken bones, they released me from the hospital.

Now here’s the kicker: my passenger, who didn’t have a seatbelt on, didn’t have any injuries. When I got home, I noticed the message light on my phone. My parents called and left a message at a quarter past ten. The accident happened at ten thirty.

Something is wrong and we’re praying! I remember the message like it was just yesterday.

Jaxx, my dad said into the phone, I was under the truck when God told me I needed to get your mother and pray. I got out from under the truck, went in the house to get your mom, and we knelt to pray. That was not usual for my parents, let me tell you. Yes, I had seen them pray—but never on their knees. They weren’t normally that intuitive, so it really confused me.

My first thought was, like, whatever. I called a cab and headed to a major bash. Managing bars and personally knowing the executives at one of the nation’s largest beer companies had put me in contact with bar owners all over the state. On average, I had between thirty-five and forty-five people call me on any weekend to find out where the party was. There was never a dull moment for me, there was always a party somewhere. Life was fast—and who cared about dying young?

I woke up in the hospital three days later, hooked to IVs and machinery, wondering how I got there. I saw my roommate there, but he couldn’t have brought me here; he’s fifty pounds lighter than I am—on a good day! Wait a minute, I thought, did he crash his car on the same day? No. He has no car. So how did I get here? What’s going on?

My mind raced back to the last thing I could remember. We were at the bar. I faintly remembered he came through the door and asked me a question. Where’s your car?

"Where’s your car? I asked. Whatever, let’s have a beer!"

I faintly remember the next six months. I was so hopped up on pain meds, I barely knew my name. I remember I had to use both hands to lift a fork to my mouth. My roommate only filled my coffee cup half full, otherwise I couldn’t lift it. I asked him to confirm mundane things I just couldn’t remember. I’d have a full plate of food in front of me and food on my fork, and I would ask if we were going to eat soon. After a forty-five-minute phone conversation, I’d have to ask him what happened. Was I on the phone? Was I talking to my parents? Did I swear a lot? Without his answers, I had no idea!

In the weeks following the accident, my head cleared. During an online search for a car, my phone rang. It was a friend who asked if I knew of anyone who needed a car. I asked what was wrong with it, and he explained that the car was fine. His stepfather had just inherited a car he didn’t need, so he wanted to give it away to someone who did need it. I thought to myself, am I really about to get a free car? My mind went back to Mom and Dad praying for me before my accident.

Later the same week, I found myself short on the rent. The phone rang.

You don’t know me, the voice said, but we just interviewed this guy for a job, and he wouldn’t stop talking about you. We want you to come to work for us! What are you doing this weekend?

I just had a car accident, I explained. I’m pretty much couch-bound.

Perfect, he said. Listen, we foster troubled youth, and this weekend, the kids go to stay with their mom. I just need someone here in case they come back. I’ll pay you for sitting on my couch for the weekend.

He had my attention. The amount he offered was $100 more than I needed for my rent, and that was due on Monday.

My roommate laughed and shook his head.

Wow, he said, if you ever need anything, get your parents to pray—their God always seems to deliver!

I should add that my roommate had been studying paganism and Wicca. He was learning about gods and goddesses, yet he recognized that a higher power—the Great Spirit, the divine—was clearly trying to get my attention.

I showed up at the address the man gave me, but it was not what I expected. It was a big house in one of the nicest, most expensive districts in the city. As I sat there, I started to think about what Danny had said. Why am I sitting in this huge house, getting paid to eat their food? I thought. Why did I get that free car last week? Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to get here. I started to think about everything that had happened: the accident, the prayer, and everything else. Maybe Danny has a point!

All right, God. You’re trying to get my attention? You got it. What do you want?

I started to read the Bible I’d carried around for years. In it, I found the notes I had written fifteen years earlier. Even though I was raised in the church, I struggled with their beliefs and the contradictions between faith and actions. I started to spend hours reading and studying the Bible. Is this what you want, God?

After months of studying the Bible, I tried to find a church where I could fit in, but time after time, I was vilified when they learned who I was and where I was from. One night, I left church and I was pissed off—really pissed off!

God, I said, "we need to have a chat. You came looking for me. I wasn’t looking for you! What the fuck do you want? You know what I need? I need someone in my life, like my first girlfriend; she knows and believes like I do! She’ll understand me. What the fuck do you want from me? This is bullshit!" I yelled at the top of my lungs as I punched the roof of my car. Ten minutes later, I was home, and I saw that there was a light flashing on my phone. I had a message.

Jaxx, this is Kelly. God wants me call you. What’s going on? I fell to my knees in awe and disbelief. Kelly was my first girlfriend. Ten minutes ago I called my parents, who called your parents to get your phone number, and then I called you.

I hadn’t heard from her in fifteen years.

Okay, God, I said. "That was cool! So you do hear me. Well done! Well played! So now what?"

Six months after Kelly’s call, not much had changed. I was still studying and trying to fit in at a church, but it wasn’t working. I just couldn’t find the right fit. One church believed that if you thought you had to speak in tongues, you had sin in your life. Another said that if you weren’t wealthy, you didn’t need to fear about being poor.

God wants you to be rich, they promised, so just give all your money to the church, and God will make you rich! Bullshit! I could prove them all wrong using their own Bibles.

It was all too familiar. All these Christians who believed—but only the parts of the Bible they liked. That’s bullshit! Yes, God does desire to bless us. Yes, we are to encourage those who hurt. Yes, we should be wealthy in ways to better the universe, not for ourselves, and certainly not for the sake of pride.

So once again, God and I had a little chat. I just started screaming at God, What the fuck? I’m trying to fit in—and I’m getting crucified! I’m finding falseness everywhere! What the fuck? After my burst of anger, I fell into silence. After a few minutes, I spoke again, If I am where you want me, God, give me peace.

And just as if someone reached over and turned on the air conditioning, a refreshing sense of absolute peace washed over me. I felt light and free! I was happy and content for the first time in a long time!

Okay, God, I said quietly and with humility. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m going to trust you.

Like I had a choice, I thought.

Months went by, and the time came where I had the opportunity to go home. I hadn’t been to my home town for 15 years. It was, and still is, a small community where everyone knows everyone. My cousin hitched a ride with me, and after ten hours driving, we finally arrived, in forty below zero temperatures and several feet of snow.

Why, I asked myself, am I here?

As my cousin unloaded his gear, my uncle came out. He asked me to come in to meet