The Voice of Faith: Based on a Life-Changing True Story

By Heather Larribas

Have you ever wondered where your thoughts come from? Why all of a sudden you turned right instead of left and found out moments later there had been a fatal accident that would have been in your path? Choosing to do something that you know is wrong and you feel that nudge in your soul telling you no, but you choose to do it anyways? Coincidence? No, nothing ever is. God finds ways to get our attention so we can follow him to lead us to our salvation. This heart-warming, gut-wrenching true story that Heather endured with her husband Adam while their marriage was suffering for over ten years came to life after her rediscovery of Jesus our savior. The journey that Jesus took Heather on with Adam's soul led her to walk in the faith. Visions of events and emotional struggles, keeping her eyes on Jesus while he was working not only on their marriage but also showing Heather how to fight the right way to save her and her husband's soul. God never intended marriages and families to be destroyed which he brought together from the beginning through his love. The enemy has a way of breaking down marriages with lust, infidelity, brokenness, and abuse, but following "the voice of faith" will get you through anything in your life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 9, 2018
• ISBN: 9781641912716

Book preview

Chapter

1

Call the hospital. Your grandpa just passed! hearing those words in my head that woke me up suddenly with my heart rapidly beating. Am I dreaming? Is this true? Rubbing my sleepy eyes, stretching, and yawning, I heard it again. Call the hospital. Your grandpa just passed! grew louder and the voice was stern than before. Looking at the clock on the wall that showed the hands straight up showing it was five in the morning on a snowy cold November, I nudged my sister. Shawna, Shawna wake up!, wake up! Grandpa just passed!

She sat up right away asking, How do you know?

A voice told me. I need to call the hospital. I hurriedly reached for the phone to call like the voice instructed me to do.

To my astonishment, it was true. The news was given to my grandmother and mother, her three sisters, and brother who had been there all night standing by their dying father’s bedside. Shawna could see by the look on my face while talking on the phone that it was real and tears began to fall down on both of our faces.

My grandfather always woke up at five in the morning to get ready for work. I pondered this: How did I know he was going to pass at the same time he would wake for work? I was only thirteen years old.

When my mother came home from the hospital, she asked, Heather, how did you know to call the hospital at the time of Grandpa’s passing?

A voice woke me up, Mom. I don’t know where it was coming from, but it got louder and louder, so I did what it told me to do.

She just looked at me with a puzzled look on her face but really didn’t say anything more. Where was the voice coming from?

That was my first encounter with the voice and hearing it in my head, not hearing it anymore for a very long time.

Through the years, I would see and hear words, numbers, and names when I would be around people or by myself. Pictures and images like a movie screenplay would flash in front of me while I would be having conversations with others, not knowing what this all meant until the second time I heard the voice.

Call home! Call home! in an intense urgency sound voice in my head that grabbed my attention as I was sitting on a couch watching television with a friend. Turning down the volume to see if I would hear it again, Call home! was now a loud scream in my head. With a bad feeling of me along with hearing the voice, the word Ashley came to my mind. Ashley was my four-year-old daughter who was visiting her grandparents for the weekend two hours away.

Calling home right away, my mother said, You need to come now! Ashley was bitten by a dog.

Seeing a vision of blood on her face and feeling her being frightened, I said in fear, Please don’t say she was bitten on her face. Yes, I’m sorry. How did I know? Where was this coming from? Rushing to the hospital, Ashley had to have constructive plastic surgery on her little face. The surgery went well and her recovery healed until the next surgery was done a year later to make her scars look less apparent. As Ashley would develop through the years, the surgeon said she could have one last surgery when she turned thirteen. When turning thirteen, Ashley decided that the scar was now a part of her, giving her character and her own identity, and chose not to have the surgery.

A couple of years later, my daughter and I went to Colorado on a vacation with a friend. While we were hiking in the mountains and captivating the beauty of it all, I came across a huge beautiful red-colored shape rock. Being drawn to sit on it, I found myself sitting and looking at the majestic mountains from afar. Sitting in silence and hearing the wind from the trees and the feeling of the warmth sun shining on my face, my ears began hearing that voice again, This is where you belong. This will give you the strength you will need. Looking up from the silence and looking behind me feeling like someone was standing there only to find more rocks and trees, I began to hear it again. A peaceful feeling came over me like the breath of someone had just blown in my ear those words.

The sense was getting stronger and something deep in my soul was beginning to let me know this is where I belong. Thoughts of leaving Michigan and coming back here seemed more inviting to me like the voice was calling me for some reason.

Spending seven days in Colorado went so fast. It was time to leave when once again that voice said a little louder, You will return soon. Not trying to think too much about it, Ashley and I were heading back home.

Within six weeks of getting back to Michigan, my life began falling apart. Battling with the courts in trying to keep my daughter safe, I knew this was the answer that was being shown to me. My daughter was my priority no matter what. As we packed up our car, we headed back out to Colorado leaving family, friends, and our familiar surroundings and my five-year relationship to a place that would be called our new home.

The apartment we found was still being built, so we stayed with a friend temporarily. Within the first week of our arrival, I found a job and a school for Ashley. Everything was falling in place so fast and easy that it felt it was meant for us to start our new life and it just confirmed that the right decision had been made. The voice was right, I thought when thinking back on how fast our first month had passed.

Getting ready to move into our one bedroom apartment, Ashley was excited. My now eight-year-old was happy in helping me to pack up our things and carrying the boxes she could to the car. The moving truck came later that day to deliver all of our things, making Ashley feel more comfortable seeing her toys and personal items.

Driving to our new place just the two of us, we were both excited to see the outdoor pool, the game room, and for me the exercise room. Feeling safe as the security gate opened to let us in, looking over to the right, the view that was looking back at me was the 14,315-foot mountains. How could you not feel safe knowing the mountains were protecting you? I smiled as I drove to our spot in the apartment complex.

Meeting different people in our complex, a couple had asked Ashley and me to go to church one Sunday. Ashley and I had attended a church back home on and off. We really didn’t go religiously but for only special occasions or holidays.

My childhood, growing up, my parents religiously took my sister and me every Sunday to a Christian Church called the church of Christ. My parents were very active in our church until our parents divorced when I was four. My mother was told she no longer belonged to the church since she was now divorced, so she stopped going; and my father had moved away, so we hardly saw him but only once a month. When we were with him, he never took us to church again.

When I was eight and my sister was ten, both she and I would take a church van with friends to a local church where we grew up and some of our friends attended. My third grade teacher was the preacher’s wife and she encouraged me to go. The church van would pull up to our place every Sunday morning and honk the horn. Excited to go, with us both in our Sunday dresses and smiles on our faces, we jumped in and started singing along the songs while driving to the church.

Hearing the name Jesus while in church was the only time he was spoken of. So not having him in a daily life with me, I never really understood the importance of him. I thought he was just a name that we sometimes would sing and talk about.

Remembering all of that, I had decided to take up the offer on going to church with my new friends now.

Walking into the church and meeting new people was encouraging for me and my daughter. Feeling alone a lot and not having family near us, I was looking for comfort. We attended for a few months and both Ashley and I were baptized together claiming to take Jesus as our savior.

One particular Sunday, Ashely wasn’t feeling well, so we didn’t go. My phone kept ringing, but resting with Ashley, I didn’t answer it. A couple of hours went by and suddenly I heard our doorbell ring. Is anyone there? We had both been lying on my bed, so hearing it again, I walked over to the door and looked through the peephole to see four strange men with Bibles in their hands. It made me nervous not knowing why so many men were at my door that I chose not to answer it. I thought, They will just go away. Walking quietly to the bedroom so the men couldn’t hear me, to attend to my sick daughter, and getting settled back in my bed, a shadow appeared at my window in the room. Peeking out the window and seeing the same four men who were just at my door startled me. What are they doing now? Quietly I picked up Ashley and we went to hide in the closet. This bad feeling was getting stronger. I could see the men trying to peek in through the window. This isn’t right. They shouldn’t be doing this, as I bowed my head to pray for them to leave.

Moments went by, and looking up and no longer seeing their shadows, I knew they had left. From that day on and thereafter, we no longer went to church. Now feeling that it was some kind of a cult and not wanting my daughter to be subject to that ever again, we stopped going and stopped looking for a new church.

In trying to stay connected to my relationship with my boyfriend who was left behind, trips were made to see him over the next few months. After him coming out to visit me and thinking he would be ready to make the change to move closer to Ashley and me, he told me he wasn’t going to marry me or move out here and for me to go and find someone else if that is what I want. Longing for a family and a man to love me and my daughter, I knew deep down that it wasn’t going to be with him, always trying to deny it to myself. My heart was broken seeing five years of my life being thrown away. Falling into depression and despair and asking why, I had stopped praying, feeling like I wasn’t heard or important to anyone, and began to control my own life.

Chapter

2

The summer of June 2001 marked the starting point of what the next fifteen years of my life looked like without having God in my life. It had been a few months since the breakup and I was moving on with my life, going to Barnes and Nobles and starting reading New Age books and listening to cassette tapes to try and get a handle of my life on my own. I used the word universe when asking for anything in my life: Please, universe, bring me a man who will move for me and marry me. A list of all I wanted in a man and in my life was now placed on my fridge, looking and repeating it over and over several times a day and hoping someone or something was hearing me.

While driving one morning to work, I saw an older couple holding hands as they were walking together. Seeing their joyful faces made me feel jealous and angry. I stopped myself and remembered what I had been asking for. Yes, this is what I want. Keeping some hope in my heart, one day I would be experiencing the same joy. But for now all that my focus was on was being a single parent and doing what any other parent would do, work, come home, and take care of my daughter helping her with school work. Going out on weekends with friends never really crossed my mind.

On a hot summer day in June, my friends and I were all hanging out at the pool, soaking up the sun, staying refreshed in the water, watching our children play together. Having great conversations, barbequing, one of my friends said, Let’s go out tonight.

I was never big on going out to bar scenes, but I thought and said, Sure. That sounds like fun, something new.

The afternoon grew on and the sun was starting to go down, so we all headed back to our places to get ready. Being nervous, giddy, and excited all at the same time, I began thumbing through my closet trying to decide what to wear. I was trying on three or four different outfits before settling with a black mini skirt and a purple blouse with black shoes. With my short, dark brown hair and blue eyes, I thought the purple blouse would look best. What am I fussing about? It’s not like I am going to meet someone.

Hearing the doorbell ring and taking one last final look in the mirror, I said, Okay, I think I’m ready now. I gave Ashley a kiss and told her to be good for the babysitter, carried a light sweater, and headed out the door. The four of us girls gathered into one vehicle. Smelling all of our perfumes and everyone looking nice, we were all ready for a fun night ahead, making our first and only stop the eighties bar called Heartthrobs.

We eagerly got out of the car and headed into the club. It was dark, like most bar places were. Hearing the loud music of the eighties was nice since it was the era of my time. Feeling comfortable there surprised me since being around alcohol and bars made me uncomfortable all of my life. The tables were shaped like red hearts with decorations of hearts hanging all around. With so many couches, stools, and tables to choose from, my friends picked the heart shape table.

We were sitting, talking, laughing, and dancing to the music.

One of the girls and myself made it over to the bar to grab a drink. Asking the bartender for a soft drink instead of an alcoholic drink, he looked at me funny, like he was thinking, Lady, this is a bar. Why aren’t you asking for an alcoholic drink? With a smile on his face, he served me my soft drink instead. Even turning twenty-one, drinking wasn’t that important to me, never understanding why people thought they needed to drink to have a good time.

All of us were having a good time when suddenly my eyes turned to the corner where I saw him. Staring for moments at him, watching his every move to see if he was with anyone, I thought to myself, It doesn’t look like he is. It was hard to see that far away in the misty air from all of the smoke from the dance floor, but still I could make out what made me intrigued and wanted to go up to him. Turning to my friend, I said, He looks cute. I want to meet him.

My friend said, Go for it.

I said, You know me. I am shy and never go up to guys.

She laughed and said, Just do it.

It was true; not going up to guys wasn’t something I felt comfortable doing in case of being rejected, only having a few men in my life that had been introduced through friends. This was making me so uncomfortable, but yet I couldn’t help myself wanting to do it.

Waiting for a few more minutes still watching him and with anticipation building up inside of me, I decided this was my chance. Walking over to this man shaking and trembling to approach him, he looked up and our eyes met for the first time. Seeing his black hair and dark brown eyes and warm smile made me happy inside. He was electrifying me as if a metal detector attracted me over to him. Noticing real briefly that he was drinking water gave me a good sign.

Would you like to dance? finally asking, thinking he would turn me down, waiting for the typical rejection response, No thank you.

But to my liking, he quickly said, Sure.

As he got up from the table, he was wearing a blue collar up shirt, blue jeans, and black shoes making him look even more sharp to me, leading us to the dance floor. Noticing he was about my height, five foot eight, made it easy to talk to one another. As we entered the dance floor, he told me his name was Adam and I told him my name was Heather. It was hard to hear each other with the loud music, so we made small talk and danced.

The song ended too quickly for me and thought he would just say thank you and go back to his table, but he didn’t. He followed me to our table where everyone was sitting around, jabbering away. Introducing him to everyone, we all sat down to talk. A few more songs were played, and while we were talking, we heard the announcer made the last call for alcohol. Not wanting the night to end, I asked if he would like to join us at a local restaurant to have breakfast. He joyously said, Yes, I will meet you over there. The restaurant was visibly right across the street.

We all left at the same time getting into our cars and the first thought was, He won’t show up. As we parked in the parking lot not seeing him right away, my eyes looked again and spotted a dark long van that was pulling up, not recognizing him as he got out of the van, since he wasn’t wearing glasses. Even in his glasses, when I first met him, he still looked good to me. We walked up to the door and he opened it like any gentleman would do for a lady.

Spending the next hour, I had learned that he was out here working for Vandenberg Air Force Base, based out of California where he was from, and flying with the cadets. Impressive to me he was a mechanic and his job was to ensure the safety of the cadets and the aircraft. It was getting later when we all called it a night.

As we were walking back to our vehicles, we exchanged numbers and he said he would call me the next day. Saying good night and getting back into our cars, we drove away separately. Looking out the window watching the van pull away in the distance left me feeling butterflies in my stomach. I haven’t felt this happy in a long time. Sharing with Adam about my daughter and a little about my life, he knew that we had just moved here eight months ago from Michigan.

Putting on my pajamas and waltzing with a smile on my face into the bathroom to brush my teeth, I couldn’t help but feel like a little schoolgirl who just met her prince charming. Not being able to fall asleep, I kept rehearsing the evening over and over in my mind. We seemed to click right away and felt a connection that was just there that wasn’t explainable to me. Standing out most of all for me was that he didn’t have one drink of alcohol the whole night. We all have a list of expectations of what we want in a significant other. I always looked for men who didn’t need to drink a lot or smoke. As I was lying in bed, I thought maybe the universe answered my list on the fridge and was finally delivering someone who could be potentially my future. From that first night, there was something so strong and our connection that I could feel. The thoughts of Adam kept roaming in my mind until finally falling asleep.

The next morning, woken up by Ashley jumping on the bed, Mommy, Mommy, let’s go to the pool. The sun is out. I jumped up immediately to see that the sun was shining so bright and the air smelled good like a summer breeze when the memory of meeting Adam came to my mind.

We had met our friends at the pool and stayed there all day. It was around four in the afternoon when I looked at my phone to see that there was no missed call from Adam. The bad thoughts and chatter started going through my head. He isn’t going to call. He probably threw my number away. My mother always had shared some good advice about men. ‘Let the man call you if he’s interested.’ So I was