Life of Miracles

By Chaplain Rick Paetzke

My book is the written story of the many miracles I experienced throughout my life that helped define the person I am and the faith I have today. It's told where and when I experienced them. The feelings are raw, and the emotional journey is as real as anyone can feel. May its message be translated to an experience that can be felt through its words.

When I was growing up, I would say, "God, if you're real, show me, and I will live for you." He did that and much more. This book was written for all believers and nonbelievers, to give you all hope now and for the hereafter.

My life is told in a timeline, from my miraculous birth to my experimental teens and an adulthood filled with bad decisions made, all along never being forgotten by the God Almighty. You will be able to tell the times I experienced his divine interventions, my experiences being as real as you. I hope you find this as interesting as it was when I lived it.

*****

I started to fall backward, away from the ladder. I cried out, thinking I might die or get badly hurt. I cried out, "Jesus, save me!" As I was falling backward, away from the ladder, after I said "Jesus, save me," I felt something grab me from behind and push me toward the ladder. It made sure that my feet were on the ladder steps, and God or an angel took both my hands and made them grab the ladder with a firm grip. Before I knew it, I was safely on the ladder. This is only one of many miracles Jesus did for me.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639612413

Book preview

Chapter 1

My Birth

First, I am from a family of six siblings, but only five lived long enough to have a life. My brother who was born a year after me died a couple of days after birth because he was a premature infant. So it was Carol, Barbra, Frederick (Rick), Kathy, and Kurt, the youngest.

One day, about three years after Barb was born, my mother and father conceived me. While my mother was pregnant, a month before I was born, Father and Mother were driving down a road, going through an intersection, and a car ran into my mother’s car door. The car spun around, and in the process, my mother’s head hit the windshield, cracking it, as she was thrown around in the front seat. She had no internal injuries but had some bruises and minor cuts. She was okay on the outside, but not on the inside of her womb. Because of the impact of the two cars, I was physically moved a half turn in her stomach. So on March 18, 1961, at around midnight, I was born, but I was breech born. I came out butt first. So from that day forward, I was marked to be different from any of my siblings.

I seemed to be the oddball of the family, vastly different, a very hyperactive child, and accident-prone, in my opinion. I should have died many times in my life. In the chapters ahead, one incident at a time, I will share how my God’s mercy and grace kept me moving forward for his purpose, to fulfill his calling in my life.

Before I move on to Jesus’s divine intervention in my life to get me where I am today, I want to give you a brief overview of my family life. My father was a city driver for Milwaukee, Wisconsin. My mother was a good homemaker. My father provided for us kids, and my mother took care of us and the daily cleaning of our home. My parents, at that time, had an old-fashioned way of raising us children. There were no I love yous told to us. Parents of that time showed love through action, not words. We always had our necessities met, such as clothing and food, but no physical love was given.

From what I remember, my parents were drinkers. My dad was an alcoholic; he went to the bar after work every day. He and my mother would go to family gatherings or get-togethers, and they always got too intoxicated to drive. My family did not have much use for a religious upbringing, even though we were raised Lutherans. From what I could tell, they were atheist or agnostic in their thinking. So as I grew up, I did not know if there was a God or not. I remember a time when I was talking out loud, looking toward heaven and saying, God, if you are out there and you’re real, please show me. I will live for you if you are. I also wanted to know if we could ever see him while we are here on earth.

From here and from this frame of mind, I will share incidents and life-altering experiences that changed my belief in a supernatural God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He’s still active today with his creation. Yes, Jesus Christ is alive today through his Holy Spirit in his church, meaning his saints. With the help of angels, he is still making himself known to them who seek him and all who are called out for his purpose and for his will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Chapter 2

Jesus Reveals Himself

Sometime in the past, in the sixties, I was around five to seven years old. I had a reoccurring dream that I believe had to be a sign that Jesus Christ was helping me find him so that his will would be done in my life as it was planned in heaven. I would ask God to prove to me that he was alive in this world. Why was I born? Why did I get picked on a lot? I remember thinking, Why doesn’t everybody love one another? We came from the same bloodline. Are we not all human beings? How could we have popped out of nothing and into the life that we are in today? Something made us who we are today . Keep in mind that, at this time, I was not going to any church. No one was telling me about God or Jesus Christ; I had no one talking about religious stuff with me. At that time in my life, I was brought up with an atheist view of life.

When I would take a nap or when I would go to bed for the night, I would close my eyes and go into a deep state of REM sleep. I would find myself walking outside, somewhere in a flat land area with some trees and flowers but mostly grassland. I would always be looking to the pretty blue sky, looking for something. At that time, I did not know why I was looking up. But all of a sudden, I would sense that someone or something was following me and watching me. They were talking to each other about me. The strange thing was, I had no clue why these beings were stalking me. I was terrified because they were getting closer and closer to me. At first, I did not see them, but before I knew it, I saw these hideous demons with big red piercing eyes that looked like a lizard’s eyes. They also had short horns on their head. I could hear them walking toward me and surrounding me. I told them to leave me alone; I did not want them to take me anywhere. But they still came and grabbed me and walked me over to a stone altar. They made me lie down on it. Then they circled around me, chanting something I did not understand, laughing and grinning, walking around me. They said they were going to kill me, and no one would stop them.

Always, at that instant, I would wake up and sit up and say, Mom, these evil things in my dreams are trying to hurt me. They said they were going to kill me.

She would say, It is only a dream, son. It will go away.

So I would believe her that time and go on my way to play, thinking it was over. That same night, they would come after me again. Before they could kill me, I would wake up, and I would run to Mom, telling her about those mean monsters in bed and freaking out about that dream. I told myself, I do not want that dream anymore, but it happened again, I would say for about three to four days in a row.

One day, after that scary dream, I ran to my mother and told her, Demons are still chasing me. What can I do? Here my mother, with not much faith in God and who never even talked to me about Jesus, told me to tell those demons that Jesus said to them to leave me alone and go away, because I belong to him. So that next night, they came after me again, and I said to them what my mom told me to tell those demons. I belong to Jesus. You cannot have me or hurt me. Go away. To my surprise, they fled. I had a great sense of love and peace after that, and those dreams stopped. So this dream was a turning point for my life at that time. Also, Jesus Christ was drawing me to him and making his presence known to me. Because of that, something evil was trying to hurt me or, I could say, trying to kill me and keep me from finding out who this God is. I would realize in the time to come. My life would be forever changed for the good of Jesus’s call on my life.

My readers, you will understand the reason for all these close calls on my life. If Jesus did not help with these close calls, who did? Am I a superman, or is Jesus helping and having his angels watch over my life? You, the readers, decide. Is it divine intervention, or am I plain lucky? For all my stories, I would feel comfortable taking a lie detector test to back them up.

Chapter 3

Close Calls

There were three times that my head was cracked open. Two of the times I got my head injured, I was around eight. It was a typical day; I was running around, playing and pretending I was flying. My mother had a big queen-sized bed with a big box spring. I climbed up on it and started jumping up and down. It was like a trampoline. I was bouncing up above the mattress, laughing away. When my mother heard me playing, jumping and laughing on her bed, she said, Stop jumping on the bed, before you fall off and hurt yourself. Of course, I would not listen. While I was distracted from where I was jumping, I replied, I will not fall off. I then bounced headfirst off the left side of the bed, right toward the sharp edge of a lamp table, and I hit the sharp corner edge.

After the impact, I got up, stunned, and felt wetness around my head. Also, my head was tingling. Blood was gushing from the top of my skull. I ran to my mother and screamed, I am bleeding! She got my dad, and they rushed me to a hospital, where they sewed up the deep gash on my forehead. The doctor said, Keep an eye on him for twenty-four hours to make sure he does not have a concussion. And stop him from jumping on the bed. He could have broken his neck. Of course, you are talking about a boy who has ADHD. My parents would call me a super hyper child, always on the go, and a chatterbox by nature. About a year later, I was back in that clinic in Milwaukee, on Howard Avenue. They knew at the clinic that I feared getting my head sewn up. They said it would not hurt; they numbed it. Well, I told myself, No more getting my head cracked open.

Little did I know that at about nine or ten years old, I would have a close call on another head injury. Already forgetting about the incident in the bedroom, I was jumping on the bed again, laughing away. It was just like last time, but the warning my mom spoke was reworded: Stop jumping on the bed, before you crack your head open again. At that point, I remembered what happened. While thinking of getting off the bed, I found myself tripping off in an upward bounce, right into an end table corner, and it smacked me right on my forehead, close to the hairline, where I cracked my head open again. It was gushing bad, so my mother had me hold a towel on my head until my father was home to take me to the clinic on Sixth Street, to keep me from bleeding to death.

One day, I was playing with my best friend Kevin, who lived close to me in the Southlawn housing projects. I got up early that morning, ate breakfast, and said to my mother, I am going over to Kevin’s house to play.

She said, Okay. Make sure you’re home for lunch.

I replied, I will.

I walked over to my friend’s house, and his dad answered the door. Kevin, Rick here wants to go out and play. Of course, Kevin was out in a heartbeat. I said, Hey, let us go down by the railroad track and hunt for more grass snakes. We walked about a three-mile distance from my home to get to the railroad tracks. By these tracks, one side had a lot of tall grass and trees and big bushes. Kevin and I would turn over big boards lying on the ground; that was where we would find grass snakes.

Kevin said, Rick, I think I hear other kids who are playing around here. We could not see them, but I think they could see where we were in the tall brush.

I said, Kevin, be quiet until they go away. I do not want trouble.

But before I knew it, I heard a swishing sound coming my way, and I felt something big hit my head. I felt light-headed and dizzy. I started to feel a wetness all over my body. I looked down at the ground, and there was a railroad spike lying there with a little blood and hair on it.

My friend started to freak out and said, Rick, you’re bleeding bad!

I was stunned and said, Are you sure? Then I noticed my T-shirt was getting soaked with blood. I started to panic and said, I need to run to get help. But my mind said, Do not run. Your blood will pump faster. Hold your head with your hand and walk fast, not run.

I went to my home, which was one mile or more away. My sister got my mother and father to come home to get me to the emergency clinic again on Howard. They knew I was terrified. The doctors said, Son, while we fix you up, want to fly to the moon and back?

I said, How?

We got a space suit just for your size.

I said, Okay. I do not want to be there long.

Little did I realize that it was a stitching-up space suit, where they strapped my arms and legs down to keep me from moving around. While I was talking to them, I asked them why my helmet had a hole on top of my head. Then I heard this loud humming machine coming toward me, right above my head. It came to my head and applied pressure for a few seconds, and then my open wound was closed.

The thing I want you all to know about is the distance and the time to get to the house and to the clinic, and the amount of blood lost on the way to the doctor. He said I should have bled out before I got to the medical clinic. He said I must have a guardian angel watching over me. Praise God. If it is not your time, you will not die.

Chapter 4

Foolish Things

One morning, after I ate breakfast, I told my mother, I want to go outside and play.

She said, Okay, but be home before lunch.

All right. See you later, Mom.

While I was outside, a crazy idea came to me: Hey, around those railroad tracks are a lot of sand piles. Go over to them and play with the sand. By the way, that place belonged to a concrete company. The sand piles were all close to big filter bars underground, where the sand would flow into a big mixture. That just happened to be the sand pile I wanted to play in. I looked around the area, and at that time, no one was around the sand traps. So this little nine-year-old boy went to explore the sand piles.

While I was playing, something strange happened. I fell forward into the sand pile headfirst, and my head sunk into the sand. I could not breathe or move, but I kept going downward in the sand mixer. I was really scared, and my feet were kicking in the air above the sand.

Before I was sucked into the sand mixer, a man pulled me out of the sand pile. He set me on my feet and wiped the sand off my face and said, Boy, are you crazy? Do you have a death wish? Do you not know that you were playing on top of a concrete mixer? You are lucky I saw your feet sticking out of the sand and pulled you out. This is not a playground here. Go home now, before I tell your parents you were playing on private property.

So