BootCamp early AM on Day 4: Y'Bor City
Posted by: HelpSaveSam
In case you were wondering, Y'Bor City in Tampa is similar to Bourbon Street in New Orleans. It is a popular area full of bars, clubs, and lost souls.
Around 2:00am 900 orange shirted boot campers arrived at Y’Bor City. As I exited my bus, a loud shout began... “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!” We were loud and bold. Soon someone else started in with: “Ain’t No Party Like the Holy Ghost Party ‘Cause the Holy Ghost Party Don’t Stop!” Everyone joined.
We shouted as we walked the streets of Y’Bor. People started coming out of restaurants and bars to see what was going on. Some encouraged us smiling, clapping, and shaking our hands. Most had astonished expressions. What we were doing was unbelievable, powerful, and defiantly out of the ordinary. I of course pulled out my video camera and filmed those lucky onlookers as well as our large party. Within five minutes, I filmed the first woman I saw receiving the Holy Ghost. She was slain in the Spirit. A friend or possibly a relative of hers joined our crowd in clapping and worshipping God for the touch the woman had received. I feel Holy Ghost chills just writing about it.
As we walked and worshipped, not all of our responses were positive. Two young girls in heals pushed through our crowd. One stomped as she angrily cried out – “This isn’t fair. They shouldn’t be here!” An angry man complained that his friend was loosing business because of our crowd. We were causing quiet a stir after all. Later I saw something that broke my heart. It was a wide eyed man looking all around at the crowd. There was a prostitute on his arm pulling him into a dark ally. I could tell the man wanted to know what was going on. The woman looked possessed. Her eyes were solely on the man; she was doing everything she could to pull him away. Finally she did.
At exactly 2:38am all of us in orange shirts plus some who had joined from the streets kneeled down on the bricked sidewalks and began to intercede for the city. A few minutes later we resumed our victory march. Again we began to shout. A bar opened it’s doors and began to play “I’ll Fly Away”. I passed by many Holy Ghost filled soul winners as they spoke with hungry men and women about the power of God.
I saw a group of tough-looking Hispanic men standing near an inside corner of a store. Leaned against the corner was a big Hispanic man in a white undershirt. A thin Apostolic Hispanic in an orange shirt stood in front of the man speaking to him about the Lord. The lost man had a quiet look on his face as he listened. Large tears rolled down his face as a peace washed over him. As long as I live I will never forget the look on that man’s face. His eyes, windows to the soul, were wide open and ready to receive the same healing rain I had received a little more than an hour earlier.
We kept going. I shut off my camera so that I could freely participate in worship. I looked to my left and saw a line of young men standing beside their motorcycles. They were quiet as they watched us pass. I looked at their faces as I kept walking. I made eye contact with one of the men – he was near my age. He was standing perfectly still, like a solider in complete control standing in attention. I doubled back until I stood by his side. I pointed to him and said “You” as if I had just found what I was looking for. I doubled back until I stood by his side. “God wants you”, I said. He turned his head and looked at me. His head nodded very slightly and quickly. He showed no emotion. I could tell he was holding it in – maybe because of his friends. “Can I pray for you?” I asked? “No – I’m okay,” he answered. “No your not – there is something more for you.” He again gave a quick nod and resumed control. He held a Life Center Card in his hand. “Go to that church”, I said.
I had no choice but to leave him. My heart ached as it twisted inside with a burden for the man. I wept and prayed for him. He is my brother – I can feel it. Maybe it was my experience growing up surrounded by soldiers. His countenance was too familiar. He reminded me all too well of some of my personal ARMY friends. So tough, but so willing to give all they have for what they believe in. He just needs to know that he really believes. When he knows he will give his all. I don’t know his name, but I will continue to pray for him until I see him again.
I reached what looked to be a center square. A large set of steps was before me – full of boot campers. I took the side ramp up and around until I reached the top. I didn’t realize where I was until I saw Bro. Matt Maddix right in front of me. I hurriedly stepped back towards the right hand side. I pulled out my camera. Bro. Matt Maddix was on the soldiers of a large boot camper. He was holding a megaphone preaching to the crowd. Then we all started to sing. “This is How We Over Come”, “Awesome God”, and “Jesus I’ll Never Forget What You’ve Done For Me” were among the songs we sung.
I saw a big man in a white shirt come out of a dark building right in front of us. He was upstairs on the balcony. I put my camera on him. I must admit I had a fear that this man would put out a gun and shoot Bro. Maddix. I kept thinking about MLK -- what we were doing was big and making an impact. I began to pray protection around the incredible Man of God. Thankfully the man in the white shirt went back inside and did not come back out.
I turned my attention back to the middle of the top of the steps. A young man from the street had just come up. He threw his hands in the air as Bro. Maddix prayed for him to receive the Holy Ghost. Not long after the young man held the megaphone. “I’ve spent years of my life and studied hard to learn two new languages, but I’ve never spoke in tongues until tonight!” (If I’ve got everything straight, this was the young man came back to the hotel with us and was baptized in Jesus’ Name).
We stayed, wept, and prayed for about two hours. There were police there blocking off the streets. Again everyone hit their knees. The Lord led me to pray for a boot camper. The young man obviously had a calling on his life that was being reconfirmed to him.
What I have just shared are the events that most readily stuck out in my mind about our trip to Y’Bor City. There was a recorded 15 to recieve the Holy Ghost and 1 to be baptized in Jesus' Name because of this event. There is no possible way to tell every work of God that occurred that night. What we had just done through the Holy Ghost was recorded in the book of Acts that will someday be read in Heaven.
In case you were wondering, Y'Bor City in Tampa is similar to Bourbon Street in New Orleans. It is a popular area full of bars, clubs, and lost souls.
Around 2:00am 900 orange shirted boot campers arrived at Y’Bor City. As I exited my bus, a loud shout began... “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!” We were loud and bold. Soon someone else started in with: “Ain’t No Party Like the Holy Ghost Party ‘Cause the Holy Ghost Party Don’t Stop!” Everyone joined.
We shouted as we walked the streets of Y’Bor. People started coming out of restaurants and bars to see what was going on. Some encouraged us smiling, clapping, and shaking our hands. Most had astonished expressions. What we were doing was unbelievable, powerful, and defiantly out of the ordinary. I of course pulled out my video camera and filmed those lucky onlookers as well as our large party. Within five minutes, I filmed the first woman I saw receiving the Holy Ghost. She was slain in the Spirit. A friend or possibly a relative of hers joined our crowd in clapping and worshipping God for the touch the woman had received. I feel Holy Ghost chills just writing about it.
As we walked and worshipped, not all of our responses were positive. Two young girls in heals pushed through our crowd. One stomped as she angrily cried out – “This isn’t fair. They shouldn’t be here!” An angry man complained that his friend was loosing business because of our crowd. We were causing quiet a stir after all. Later I saw something that broke my heart. It was a wide eyed man looking all around at the crowd. There was a prostitute on his arm pulling him into a dark ally. I could tell the man wanted to know what was going on. The woman looked possessed. Her eyes were solely on the man; she was doing everything she could to pull him away. Finally she did.
At exactly 2:38am all of us in orange shirts plus some who had joined from the streets kneeled down on the bricked sidewalks and began to intercede for the city. A few minutes later we resumed our victory march. Again we began to shout. A bar opened it’s doors and began to play “I’ll Fly Away”. I passed by many Holy Ghost filled soul winners as they spoke with hungry men and women about the power of God.
I saw a group of tough-looking Hispanic men standing near an inside corner of a store. Leaned against the corner was a big Hispanic man in a white undershirt. A thin Apostolic Hispanic in an orange shirt stood in front of the man speaking to him about the Lord. The lost man had a quiet look on his face as he listened. Large tears rolled down his face as a peace washed over him. As long as I live I will never forget the look on that man’s face. His eyes, windows to the soul, were wide open and ready to receive the same healing rain I had received a little more than an hour earlier.
We kept going. I shut off my camera so that I could freely participate in worship. I looked to my left and saw a line of young men standing beside their motorcycles. They were quiet as they watched us pass. I looked at their faces as I kept walking. I made eye contact with one of the men – he was near my age. He was standing perfectly still, like a solider in complete control standing in attention. I doubled back until I stood by his side. I pointed to him and said “You” as if I had just found what I was looking for. I doubled back until I stood by his side. “God wants you”, I said. He turned his head and looked at me. His head nodded very slightly and quickly. He showed no emotion. I could tell he was holding it in – maybe because of his friends. “Can I pray for you?” I asked? “No – I’m okay,” he answered. “No your not – there is something more for you.” He again gave a quick nod and resumed control. He held a Life Center Card in his hand. “Go to that church”, I said.
I had no choice but to leave him. My heart ached as it twisted inside with a burden for the man. I wept and prayed for him. He is my brother – I can feel it. Maybe it was my experience growing up surrounded by soldiers. His countenance was too familiar. He reminded me all too well of some of my personal ARMY friends. So tough, but so willing to give all they have for what they believe in. He just needs to know that he really believes. When he knows he will give his all. I don’t know his name, but I will continue to pray for him until I see him again.
I reached what looked to be a center square. A large set of steps was before me – full of boot campers. I took the side ramp up and around until I reached the top. I didn’t realize where I was until I saw Bro. Matt Maddix right in front of me. I hurriedly stepped back towards the right hand side. I pulled out my camera. Bro. Matt Maddix was on the soldiers of a large boot camper. He was holding a megaphone preaching to the crowd. Then we all started to sing. “This is How We Over Come”, “Awesome God”, and “Jesus I’ll Never Forget What You’ve Done For Me” were among the songs we sung.
I saw a big man in a white shirt come out of a dark building right in front of us. He was upstairs on the balcony. I put my camera on him. I must admit I had a fear that this man would put out a gun and shoot Bro. Maddix. I kept thinking about MLK -- what we were doing was big and making an impact. I began to pray protection around the incredible Man of God. Thankfully the man in the white shirt went back inside and did not come back out.
I turned my attention back to the middle of the top of the steps. A young man from the street had just come up. He threw his hands in the air as Bro. Maddix prayed for him to receive the Holy Ghost. Not long after the young man held the megaphone. “I’ve spent years of my life and studied hard to learn two new languages, but I’ve never spoke in tongues until tonight!” (If I’ve got everything straight, this was the young man came back to the hotel with us and was baptized in Jesus’ Name).
We stayed, wept, and prayed for about two hours. There were police there blocking off the streets. Again everyone hit their knees. The Lord led me to pray for a boot camper. The young man obviously had a calling on his life that was being reconfirmed to him.
What I have just shared are the events that most readily stuck out in my mind about our trip to Y’Bor City. There was a recorded 15 to recieve the Holy Ghost and 1 to be baptized in Jesus' Name because of this event. There is no possible way to tell every work of God that occurred that night. What we had just done through the Holy Ghost was recorded in the book of Acts that will someday be read in Heaven.
