VL - Issue 42 - January 2022

Tired of
Running
and
Ready
THE STORY OF
MANNY MILL
to Live
FOR MANY YEARS, I LIVED
FOR THE HUMAN TRINITY—
ME, MYSELF, AND I.
I did what was right in my own eyes and
judged everything by how it would benefit
me or someone I wanted to influence. I had
no understanding of objective truth, nor
did I care how God might view my actions.
I thrived on power and being the center
of attention. It helped that I was charismatic
because people played right into my
manipulative hands—especially women.
They were objects to be used for my gain
and discarded.
I wasn’t always that way. My mother
says I became self-absorbed and reckless
around my senior year of college. I saw the
world and people as potential conquests.
Mom tried to influence me and tell me
about God. She had recently come to faith
in Jesus Christ through the testimony of
a spiritual medium who had become a
Christian.
This was a big change for my mother. For
years, she had channeled demonic spirits
in her quest to help people find answers.
She’d started dabbling in witchcraft when
our family lived in Cuba. (We subsequently
escaped to America to avoid Fidel Castro’s
regime.) I’d often assisted Mom during her
channeling sessions and had witnessed
demonic spirits pass through her. She
thought she was doing a good thing and
even believed she was drawing close to God
through it. She was so deceived.
But then, a medium at the spiritual center
that Mom frequented became a believer
in Jesus Christ. She and another lady
shared their newfound faith with Mom.
“We have met the Lord, Jesus Christ!” they
said. “You don’t need to go to that center
anymore.” Soon, Mom attended church
with her friends, where she heard the truth
of the Gospel. She responded to God’s gift
of salvation immediately.
From that day forward, Mom was a new
person. She had peace and a hunger for
God’s Word. She began opening our home
to share Christ with others. “Jesus found
me when I was so very lost in my sin,” she
said, “because He is the One who searches
for us.”
I didn’t want anything to do with Mom’s
faith; I thought she was nuts! If there was a
God, I reasoned, it was me. I did attend the
worship services she held at our home—but
only to meet a certain beautiful brunette.
Her name was Cecilia, and I’d decided
I had to have her. Driven by an impulsive
nature and the need for immediate
gratification, I came up with a plan to get
this beauty. I would marry her. I was only
a semester away from graduation, but I
was already making a lot of money as a
life-insurance salesman and driving a Mercedes
Benz 380SL. I decided I’d rather be
married than have a college degree, and I
dropped out.
I was 22 years old and as arrogant as
they come.
My fidelity lasted about as long as our
honeymoon. I had no idea what a marriage
commitment meant. I was a terrible husband
and put Cecilia through hell.
The following winter, our son, Manny
Jr., was born. While I knew nothing about
being a father, I was proud to have a son.
My flair for networking paid off, and
soon I was making more money than I
knew how to spend. But nothing the world
offered—not even a Lincoln Town Coupe,
an Audi 5000, and a Cadillac Seville—could
satisfy me. I always searched for more.
Soon a business opportunity arose in
Coral Gables, Florida, that provided both
a new conquest and a great excuse to
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