a prophet's heart

By William M. Stetson

This is my life story, my testimony, but it's not about me--it's about God. It's all the experiences I've had with God. Him showing me my first vision when I was five. Another when I was twelve years old, God called me into the ministry. I got to go to heaven when I was twenty-five years old, and my eyes burned for six hours when I got back. And I've had many more visions and experiences. I pray this book will bless you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639030835

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a prophet's heart

William M. Stetson

ISBN 978-1-63903-082-8 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63903-083-5 (digital)

Copyright © 2022 by William M. Stetson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

First Recollections

Three Weeks

Second Vision

Welcome to NJ

Welcome to Florida

Let's Try This Again!

Welcome to NYC (Healing)

Angela Dawn

Welcome Back to Pennsylvania

Life, You Never Know What You're Gonna Get

Don't Mess with Texas

Compilation

Chapter 1

First Recollections

The first thing I remember as a child was my father running down the dirt road in front of our house as fast as he could, jumping, trying desperately to catch the string of my kite as it barely eluded him and slowly climbed higher and higher, then my sister, Debbie, handing me hers to try and dry my tears. Behind our house was a fenced-in pasture that held the neighbor's bull. Debbie and I would climb through the fence just far enough to taunt the bull. And when he'd start charging toward us, we'd jump back through the fence just in the nick of time with the bull standing there, snorting! We'd look at each other and giggle! It was an offly fun and dangerous game for a kid at that age.

Then we moved out of that country setting to a one-room house that the city had condemned. Everyone called it the silver shack. Lying in my crib one day, I went, Ooh, that's a spider! watching it as it moved around in its web by my head, then I was interrupted by a loud blam! As I turned to see my mom and sister crouched on the edge of the bed. My mom swinging a hammer at a big rat running around on the floor. Blam! She swung and missed again!

We weren't there long either. We moved again into a big empty house with a big man that I'd never seen before. Even the bellowing sound of his voice scares me. Debbie senses it too. My dad is not there.

I remember the first Christmas we had in that house. He filled every room with toys, it seemed. Then he said we were making too much noise, and he got really mad and said we weren't allowed to play with anything; brutal for a three—and four-year-old.

One night he came into my room and smacked me upside the head.

He said, What are you doing?

Sleeping, I said.

You didn't hear me coming?

No.

You will, he said. And with that, he turned and walked out.

About three nights later, he came into my room again. I heard him when he got about three steps away, and I sat up in my bed.

He said, Oh, you heard me, huh?

For the next thirteen years that I lived in that house, I heard his foot hit the first step of the twenty-five steps that led up to the upstairs bedrooms. He would come and peek into my bedroom every so often just to check to see if I heard him.

Then I remember for my fifth birthday, All I wanted was a radio or a record player. I couldn't believe it when I actually got it: a little stereo with two little speakers! My Snoopy and the Red Baron 45 rpms sounded great on it! By this time, my stepfather had me doing 150 push-ups (from my knees because I couldn't do them on my toes yet) and fifty chin-ups (from a chair because I was too small). He was in the special forces in the army years earlier, so he raised me like I was in boot camp already. He would check me on the push-ups and pull-ups, Drop and give me fifty! He'd say nearly everyday, and ground me, or whip me, or make me stand in the corner, or sit at the table and study my homework till bedtime if I couldn't do them.

I did something to upset him on my birthday, and I got sent to my room.

And I don't want to hear you playing that stereo either! I don't even want you touching it! he bellowed out as I walked up the steps, crying.

As I sat on my bed staring at it, imagining how good it had sounded when I played it earlier, looking at the polished chrome-looking plastic knobs, the desire to just touch it was too much for me. I got up off my bed and walked a step and a half to my dresser to just touch it, scared to death that my stepfather might jump out from around the corner and scream, I gotcha! or something, and I'd be in more trouble. Just as my fingers got about a half-an-inch away from it, a bright light went zipping past my window! It was so distracting that it took my attention away from my stereo. I walked toward the window to see what it was, and just as I pulled the curtain back, a voice spoke to me in my spirit and said, It won't always be like this.

It was such a loving voice. It calmed me right down and made me forget about all of my problems. I knew it was God. I believe this was Him showing me my first vision because I've had many more since then as you'll read.

Chapter 2

Three Weeks

Five turned to six, and then seven. Finally, my dad came to see us one day from New Jersey. I was finding out bits and pieces and that he went to New Jersey for work when he and my mom were getting divorced so that he could afford to pay alimony and child support. He took us to a little Pentecostal church, the one he was raised in, the one his mother and father went to, the one he and my mother got married in. I barely remember going there before all this separating and moving started, but I'd always felt good there. It was there, at this time, that I heard my favorite scripture for the first time, and it still is to this day some fifty years later:

Eye has not seen, nor ear heard,

Neither has it entered into the heart of man

What God has prepared for those who love Him.

(1 Corinthians 2:9)

The pastor was preaching that day, coincidently, about heaven and what a great place it was and that Jesus was there. Who wouldn't want to go there? Who wouldn't? So I raised my hand, and I went up along with some other people and accepted the Lord as my personal Savior!

Wouldn't you know, they just happened to be doing water baptisms that Sunday too! So I got baptized in water too! Then my dad was gone again. My mom would take us there and drop us off once in a while. Then we missed a Sunday or two. And then we went. Then we didn't go anymore.

One day my mom called my dad. She said, There's something wrong with Billy. He won't quit crying.

My dad said, Well what does he say is wrong with him?

My mom said, He says Jesus just keeps telling him He loves him.

It was true! I just kept hearing Jesus's voice tell me, I love you, I love you, I love you over and over and over again with different tones of voice. But He just kept saying it till I couldn't take it anymore, and I would break down and start crying. This went on for three weeks.

My dad kind of chuckled, Well I am up here praying for him.

My dad was in New Jersey, just pouring his heart out to God for both me and Debbie.

God bless my kids, Lord. Tell them You love them, Lord. Tell them You love them, Lord. Bless 'em, Lord.

Coincidently, a little while after this,