God Asked Me to Stay, Training for higher purposes, Intentionalistic Living Series, Book 2, Spirit Life
Hello again, I'm glad you are reading today. Confucius said, "A superior man's faults are like the sun and the moon. Everyone sees them, and when they change, all look up to them." I read that and it had a huge affect on me, I was overwhelmed with this new perspective on my own faults and how I needed to share them, and share the power of the Spirit to overcome all darkness and bring to light a man's purpose.
Our own faults, our weaknesses, our habits that keep us from becoming who we are supposed to become, are the very things God will magnify to bring us to a point of complete dependency, to a point of calling out, and to a point of finally listening for and expecting, begging for an answer from Spirit. For me, that happened the days I found myself in jail without bond and facing some forty years. I had been doing pain killers and I was out of hand; the drug use was affecting my company, my family's finances, and communications and fun with my family was diminishing. I was losing weight. I could give excuses as to why I started using painkillers at the age of thirty-nine, and many would say the excuses are good ones. I had a partner on a couple jobs who spent forty thousand dollars company money on an investment and lost it all in a matter of three days in a robbery. This was in the heart of the recession, 2009, and the forty thousand dollars was needed to get a one hundred thousand dollar reconstruction job started and to the 2/3 complete point. The job was for a customer I knew for fifteen years who trusted me like a son. My girlfriend chose the same week to start seeing another man or chose to finally get caught cheating that week. My BMW's engine blew-up, and my back was killing me where I had a disc removed years before.
Like an idiot I escaped with drugs and alcohol. My doctor was glad to see me and happily prescribed oxycodones for my returning back pain, and he prescribed the strongest ones they made and a generous amount. He probably figured it would be a one time visit.
I was working harder than ever trying to get two huge jobs done with the money from many smaller jobs that I was selling. It was hard to get work those months with the economy the way it was. I used my closing skills, persistency, and work ethic to convince homeowners to make improvements even in the heart of a recession. It still wasn't enough and I and my men were spread thin. Jobs were taking three times as long as they should and my phone rang off the hook with one concerned customer after another. I was losing my mind, and self-medicating with enough painkillers and Vodka to kill a horse. I was out all night dating women trying to bandage my heart, and up sometimes before I went to sleep going back to work... Talk about burning the candle at both ends. Good grief I was a mess.
One day my phone rang, "Cary, my dad's in jail for stealing Mike's dishwasher," Nicholas, a fifteen year old son of an associate of mine was on the other end.
"I thought he traded the ceiling fan for the dishwasher."
"He did, but then he didn't pay Mike rent for two months and moved out of the house and took the dishwasher with him and Mike never got the ceiling fan."
"I thought he was going to pay Mike today. I gave him money yesterday."
"He found a better deal and we moved in the middle of the night."
"Great, so what's his bond?" I assumed that's what the call was about.
"That's just it, my dad is on probation and if Mike doesn't drop the charges he will go to prison. There is no bail. My dad wants to know if you'll talk Mike into dropping the charges."
"Alright Nick, I'll call Mike and call you back." I hated to call Mike, I only knew him from going by his house at the end of a work day with Joel to pick up some painkillers when he was out. Mike always had plenty. I usually stayed in the truck. What made this situation worse and almost obliged me to try and help keep Joel out of prison, which was going to happen if Mike didn't drop the charge, was that Joel's wife had died a couple years before and while Nick was fifteen, red headed adorable little Kylie was only three and her brother Hunter was six and in kindergarten. Joel was a single parent with three great kids who needed their dad.
I called Mike, "Mike, hey it's Cary, Joel works with me. I'm calling on behalf of his fifteen year old son and his three year old daughter, you've seen Kylie's red hair haven't you Mike? And Hunter, his determined six year old genius. Mike, the dishwasher is at the new address, I can tell you where it is..."
"I know where it is Cary, the police already found it, and it's not the dishwasher. He told me he was going to pay me today, I had been so understanding and let him slide three months, then he moves out in the middle of the night and won't answer my calls. The house is a f...ing mess and he didn't even leave me the ceiling fan he traded for the dishwasher."
"Mike, I understand, I'd be pissed too, but Joel is on probation and a grand theft charge will cause him to go to prison. Can you please drop the charge?"
"He didn't worry about that when he didn't pay me for three months straight!" Mike was yelling furiously. "He didn't think about that while he lied to my face over and over! He didn't think about that when he moved out in the middle of the night after I was so f...ing nice to him! I don't let any tenants go two months, much less three! I am the nice guy here, I should have him charged with a lot more!" He hung up the phone.
Well, that went great. I called Nicholas and told him to relay the message to Joel. I did tell him I'd keep trying, but in my mind, I knew it was a lost cause.
Days later to my surprise, Mike called me with a proposal. "OK, you need a favor from me, I need a favor from you."
"OK, I'm listening."
"Remember what I used to do?"
"Yes," I didn't know he had quit. It was how he bought his rental houses, by selling painkillers.
"I moved to Orlando and I don't get near as many from my guy. He's ready to cut me off and go with someone else. All I need you to do is buy four hundred from him one time..."
I cut Mike off, "No way Mike, I'm not a drug dealer, and I have so many problems with my company and my life right now, there is no way I will be involved in something like that."
"I'll give them to you for six a piece."
Six dollars a piece was half price those days. "No Mike, you got the wrong guy."
"Alright, I'll give 'em to you for what I get them for, four dollars."
"No... You know what, let me call you back, I know a guy who might want to do it."
I called a bar tender friend of mine who was thrilled and said he would take all four hundred. I called Mike back and made sure we had a deal, He'd drop the charges and I'd meet his friend, who Mike said knew me as the funny clean cut guy who hung out the window of the hummer when Joel was there. "He likes you," Mike said, "He thinks you're funny."
So Jay, the guy, would call me and set it up; and he did, for Friday at 6 o' clock.
Friday morning was miserable, dealing with one customer complaining after another, by lunch I needed a cocktail to go with a few painkillers. I kept calling Jay, there was some confusion as to the price. He had text me "5 * 400 = 2000." Was I getting five hundred for four dollars or four hundred and the price was not what it was supposed to be, the latter was what I believed I was seeing and a change in price was going to create havoc with the deal.
Mike called me back, I had text him quite a few times. "He explained to me that this one time it had to be five but next time, it could be four."
"Mike, there is no next time, this is it, and this is not my money or my deal."
"Don't you tell him that, and talk like a drug dealer, all I need is for him to get paranoid."
"I know, I know, I've been talking like a drug dealer, believe me. This is getting ridiculous."
"Hey," Mikes tone changed, "I heard you were with Joel when he stole my dishwasher."
"What!? I don't steal a pack of gum from a 711, and... I am not happy with Joel myself, he owes me five thousand seven hundred dollars and is in jail the day after I gave him money to pay you! If it weren't for his kids, I'd let him stay in prison."
"What? You weren't?"
"No, I wasn't..." He hung up the phone without saying good bye. On any other day I might have got some kind of message or warning from that conversation, but not this Friday, the lunch buffet of drinks and drugs had me in a not thinking mode.
I could not get a hold of Jay all day and Mike wouldn't return my calls about Jay not answering, and by 4:30, I assumed the deal was off and went to happy hour and was in rare form by 5:30 when Jay called and said he had been sleeping and to hurry up and get to Plant City.
I thought the deal was off, I had told the bar tender it was a no go, and now I'm in a hurry and blitzed. No way I could drive, so I got a ride and would meet the bar tender half way and then he could drive.
The phone rings, it's Mike. "Hey Mike, thanks for having him call me, we're on our way..."
"What! I didn't have him call you!" He screamed and hung up.
No warning signs went off in my head that time either... "What a hot head," I said as I popped another pain killer.
Jay gave me directions over and over, but I was drunk, I had to keep calling back.
When we finally got to the deal, Jay came out to the car and held up a jar with eight painkillers in a clear baggie inside the jar. "Is this what you want?"
I wouldn't grab the jar. Now I was getting a message. Something is not right. We are about to get robbed or something... Only eight in the jar and I have two thousand dollars, "No it's not," I said clearly and loudly. Odd, that conversation somehow didn't get recorded. I'm sure it did, but cops wouldn't want to play, "No it's not." to a jury.
He gestured again over my shoulder for me to take the jar. I wouldn't take it. He threw it in my lap, and said, "I'll be back with the rest." The bar tender was analyzing the jar.
I yelled, "Go! Go, put the car in reverse." I reached for the shifter and put it in reverse myself when... "Here they come, go, go, they have guns!" and they did have guns, a lot of guns. Shot guns, machine guns, pistols, I thought they were rednecks robbing us; but then, there must have been 15 guys and then, a police cruiser with its lights on skidded to a stop behind us and blocked us in. "It's the police..." My heart dropped in my chest.
Now the messages were coming through, Mike thought I was with Joel when he was ripping him off and stealing the dishwasher and Mike had set me up. When he realized I wasn't with Joel and I was angry with Joel myself, he tried to call the deal off. The hang ups and the screaming, "I didn't tell him to call you!" were making sense. The police decided, probably after listening to me, "sound like a drug dealer" on the phone recordings, that I was a drug dealer anyway, and followed through with the set-up and arrest; and boy, was I set-up good, four hundred pills was in a twenty-five year minimum mandatory sentencing category. And the thing was, I had never even seen four hundred pills before. My doctor would prescribe me three hundred in a month, but I'd still never seen four hundred.
Now, according to the entrapment law, it was entrapment if law enforcement employees enticed someone into doing something that was not in their propensity to do, something they would not do without the coaxing and enticement of the law enforcement employees. If it is proved the defendant was enticed, and that he would not in his regular routine without the enticement commit such a crime, then the defendant is not guilty by reason of entrapment. One of the phone calls made me seem like a drug dealer and that I would commit such a crime. Man was I set-up good. Most of the calls I was careful, like a drug dealer, a little code, partial sentences, and "hey, I know what your saying, you don't have to talk so... F... we're on a cell phone, one more time and I'll never call you again."
So I am in jail, and again, I had been pulled over driving a young ladies car home from a party weeks before. The car smelled like pot. Other party goers had used the car before me taking people home. A police officer pulled me over for barely speeding, probably saw the white Honda one too many times in the area that evening. Well, the dog smelled the pot. I hadn't been a pot smoker in many years, but when the officers found a small bud in the back seat and a pipe and some cocaine residue in an empty baggie, I was arrested for possession of two dollars worth of drug residue that wasn't mine.
Going to jail and bonding out for the possession, and then being arrested for the set-up while I was out on bond, put me in a no bond situation. I was stuck until trial and facing twenty-five years on the one charge.
After being in jail for a handful of days, I made one trip after another to video court where I was charged with scheme to defraud for each construction job that was not getting done with me in jail. I had twenty-one charges and a detective trying to pin the racketeering act on me. The construction charges were a pain, but I had committed no crimes like they were saying and I could prove it; but so many charges and in three different counties... Ouch, it hurt thinking of the battles I had before me.
Days went by and the Spirit of God began to speak to me. I was sitting at my desk in my cell alone and looking at an open Bible when a page turned by itself. I looked down at the page it opened to, and the words, "I did this to you" floated off the page in mid air. I put my fingers on the words and when I touched the page where the sentence was, a loud clicking sounded in my head. As I lifted my fingers off the page, the clicking would stop, and then return, "click click click click," when I'd touch the words with my fingers again. I turned pages looking for words to raise running my fingers across page after page, searching for another message. Then it happened again. "I am angry with you," raised up, and when I touched the page, "click click click." The next message was, "This is my wrath," and the next, "These are my wounds."
"You did this to me?" I said aloud.
"These are my wounds," popped up again; and again when I touched the words, the clicking in my head.
I said, "That's not the God I know."
One at a time the words, "Yes... it... is... read..." popped up off the page.
I had always known the love of God, I came from a very loving family. My mom was in the closet praying me out of trouble when I was young. My grandma was full of God's love and a cheerleader for my life. My grandpa was the epitome of love, you could do no wrong in his eyes, he only wanted to hear about something good. My sisters, my aunts, my brother, all the kindest hearts, and all had Jesus. I knew a God who got me out of trouble, who helped me back on my feet, who had guided me when building companies, who had wrote inspirational pieces with me that moved people to become more. I did not know this God who would put me in prison because he was angry with me.
I knew the stories of the Old Testament, I knew of God banishing his people in the time of Moses and allowing them to be taken prisoners and slaves. I knew of God having evil kings like Nebuchanezzar imprison God's people for years. I knew of Prophets like Jeremiah who spent years of their lives in prison, and men who became great because of their imprisonment, like Joseph... But in this day and age, I just... I just didn't think God would do something like that to me... But God doesn't change, and he obviously did do it to me.
The page turned back to the page with the words, "These are my wounds" popping off the page, and then I saw more words raise off the page... "and I will heal them in my time."
"Oh God, you're going to heal them. Oh thank you Lord, thank you, thank you, thank you."
The Spirit of God continued to communicate with me everyday. I was taught to understand the clicking and to receive confirmation when I repeated what I heard correctly. The Spirit had me write prophecies for men that told them how many months they would receive and give them inspiration for the future, often with details of their life that I didn't understand when I wrote the words, but when they read them, they knew, only God could know. When the exact months would end up being their sentence or their case was dropped when the judge said, "I've heard enough!" the men would come back with their testimony as to the small prophecies coming true in amazing ways... "The judge said the exact words Cary wrote, "I've heard enough," and then set me free!" I had every man in the cell block wanting a prophecy. God used the jail and the inmates as a training ground for me to hear him, and as a place where many would turn to him after witnessing one miracle after another.
I had many court dates, I'd often know how the day was going to go before I ever walked into the courtroom. Most of the construction charges went away or I took a misdemeanor, time served sentence, much like a peace disturbance ticket. I knew God was with me. Some court dates when nothing would get settled, I'd hear things from the prosecutor or the Judge, things that would make my own attorney want to give up and would be devastating for most defendant's ears to hear; but most of the time, the night before, the Holy Spirit would tell me, "new evidence but do not fear," or "new charges, attorney will be afraid, you are to laugh, remember, I did this to you, not them." And so when the new charges were presented and my attorney told me, "we're screwed..." I laughed.
One Thursday night I was given these instructions and words to tell the prosecutor: When it is time you will know, say, "Blackmail over bribery, how nice, God is proud of you, Nick." I wasn't supposed to have court the next day, but at 5 am they came to get me for court. It was Friday, the trial of my life, the drug trafficking trial started with jury picking on Monday, and now a surprise court date one working day before.
When Nick Glance, the Prosecutor walked to the stand he announced he was filing an add-on charge based on existing evidence, an actual trafficking charge for the drugs that were thrown in my lap, that I possessed them as well as attempting to purchase the four hundred pills, and he stipulated that there were forty pills in the jar which was thrown in my lap... remember there were only eight. This new charge had a minimum mandatory with it and he threatened to add fifteen years to the twenty-five if I was found guilty... But, if I would plea guilty to the one charge today he would have me sentenced to only thirteen months. My attorney said, "we're screwed, take the deal, it's a great deal, you'll be home in forty-five days."
I laughed and said, "Blackmail over bribery, God is proud of you Nick." Do you see it? If you don't take this cherry deal I'm bribing you with, thirteen months instead of twenty-five years, come on, then, I am blackmailing you by threatening this new charge and all these years. The Holy Spirit was right on giving me the statement for Nick Glance. The Holy Spirit also gave me a riddle for that day and after giving it, well, the prosecutors had to go to trial against me. You want to hear the riddle don't you? It was quite a scene, I'll slow down here and share it with you.
"You want me to give the prosecutors a riddle? A riddle?" I asked the Holy Spirit the night before.
"Yes," he responded and laughed. If you have never heard the Holy Spirit laugh, you are missing out on something truly joyful. the craftiness of God. In this case it was a knowing mischievous laugh like a, "I can't wait to see this," laugh. Oh, the craftiness of God.
The riddle was built out of two Proverbs, it was, "What only brings about quarrels and a rod to a fool's back?"
So in court, I, full of the Spirit, did and said what I was supposed to. After the "Blackmail over bribery, God is proud of you Nick," statement, the Judge started to interject, "Well, Mr. Aubuchon..."
I cut her off... "No, no Judge, I understand it's a tool they use, and you Judge have done a great job sifting through things and getting to truth, you have been wise throughout all my cases, and more than fair every time, and..." I paused, "we've won a lot of cases together," I said proudly and confidently for both of us shaking my head, yes; we had. I now had the entire court room of sixty people hanging on every word I said.
"And you, Nick, have tried to do what seemed to be the right thing once or twice and I appreciate that, and you... Miss Simon, Leah, Miss Simon..." I had to get her attention she was always flirting with one attorney or another in the back of the courtroom; and while everyone else hung on every word I was saying, she was flirting, but she finally heard me and stood up. "Miss Simon," the Holy Spirit told me to be the "wild donkey" with Miss Simon so I was, "Leah... Oh..." I paused and caught my breath, "you look so lovely in those pearls," I said sincerely in a gentleman like way.
"Oh, Oh ah, thank you," she blushed, she was so flattered, and by a man in orange, with cuffs on his hands and shackles on his feet. The entire court room burst into laughter. Then I continued as the noise calmed down; I love waiting for a laughing crowd to quiet before I continue speaking, it's one of my favorite aspects of public speaking.
"I am ready to make a deal with you."
"You are?" Leah inquired amazed.
"You are?" Nick Glance was also amazed.
"You are?" Judge Pomponio was surprised as well.
"You are? Thank God," my attorney exclaimed in relief. He had no idea what I was about to do.
"Yes, I am. If..." I paused. Boy did I have the attention of the crowd. "If you answer this riddle with the answer to this riddle, I will take you to trial on Monday..." Are you confused? because they were; if they answer with the answer then I'll take them to trial. There was no option other than trial, but I continued as the Spirit had trained me to the night before...
"What only brings about quarrels and brings a rod to a fool's back?" I repeated the riddle, "What only brings about quarrels and brings a rod to a fool's back?"
Nick Glance tried to figure it out for a few seconds and then loudly stated, "This is a court of law, I'm not doing a riddle!"
"You have answered correctly Nick, I will take you to trial on Monday." The answer to the riddle was, "Pride-filled foolish talk," and oh, was Nick full of pride as he proclaimed the "court of law" line, and he was foolish to say anything like, "I'm not doing a riddle," when everyone in the courtroom knows he already tried with his pause and would have blurted out the answer if he could have figured it out. So you see he answered with the answer, with "pride-filled foolish talk." And so now, we'll have a trial, an "argument," as the riddle indicated, and "a rod" will come down on Nick Glance, "the fool."
"Your honor, I didn't have anything to do with the riddle, and didn't know he was going to say it, I apologize," my attorney proclaimed while the stage was set.
The Judge seemed interested in seeing where my confidence was coming from and said, "No, no..." as if to say, don't apologize, I can't wait to see this. "Then, we will have a trial next week," she said boldly and banged her gavel.
My attorney came to see me over the weekend. He, for the first time, saw my entrapment defense working. He realized the dishwasher story was true, that the informant had initiated the set-up and they were trying to hide him. He realized they were lying about the quantity of drugs and that they were thrown into my lap by testimony of myself and the bar tender. He realized the bartender stated, and they were using him against me, that "Cary was not a drug dealer," that he had never known Cary to sell any drugs, and that he knew Cary for many years and he owned a business. He realized they didn't want the informant to speak because he was liable to tell the entire truth including the fact he tried to stop the deal. I could have let him in on a lot of that months before but I was having fun watching him watching me, baffled at where my confidence came from.
It was the morning of the jury picking, and before the jurors ever entered the courtroom and before we had any information on the jurors, I handed my attorney a sheet of lined writing paper. The Holy Spirit had woke me up in the middle of the night and gave me a list. The paper read, "Juror number three – retired pharmacist. Juror number six – retired prosecutor. Juror number nine – teacher. Jurors number ten, eleven, and twelve all with occupations and juror number sixteen - a girl who used to dance on men for money." We needed six jurors and an alternate. My list had seven. I told my attorney, "This will be our jury," as I handed him the piece of paper.
"Mr. Aubuchon, I have enjoyed being your attorney for ten months. You have never ceased to amaze me. Your court room antics, your confidence, your riddles and deals from God; I've had fun, and we're going to win the trial and when you speak, it is going to be something to watch Nick Glance squirm. But not until now, did I realize, that the man sitting next to me was completely insane. You say God gave you this list. It's not going to happen. Let me tell you why... First, I am a trial attorney; for the past fifteen years I have been a defense attorney, a trial attorney, and a very well paid trial attorney as you know. Before I was a defense attorney, I was a prosecutor for ten years whose specialty was going to trial, and before that, I was a public defender who liked to go to trial.
So for over twenty-five years, all I've done is go to trial, that's what I do; and in twenty-five years, number one, Jury picking has never ended on number sixteen, it most always goes in to the twenties before a jury is picked. If we want number three they will scratch number three, and so on. This will not be an easy day or a short one, you have created a war here. The prosecutors are not going to allow us to get any of our first picks if they can help it. I would not be surprised if we go through seventy-five jurors before we agree on seven. You did this with your riddles and challenges, and Cary, you belittled Nick Glance more than once. Crap, they have the Chief Prosecutor standing with Nick, not just any prosecutor in second chair, Leah Simon, who figured out by now that the pearl necklace comment wasn't genuine..."
"Hey, now you're going too far, she did look lovely," I couldn't help myself.
"Let me continue, number two, if we knew we wanted a retired pharmacist, which we don't, then, if there were three in the group, two of them would not have the personality we were looking for, and the prosecution would likely scratch the one we wanted... And thirdly, juror number three will not be a retired pharmacist!.. Cary, you're insane. Here comes the sheets with information on each juror, you need to study them and prepare. This is an important part of the trial."
When the sheets got there, I immediately skipped to number three, she was a teacher not a retired pharmacist. I noticed my attorney notice the same thing. I thought maybe she was one of the teachers, and the retired pharmacist would be a different number. I looked at number six, an adviser for the airline industry, not a retired prosecutor. I searched all the sheets for either occupation and didn't find either in the first twenty six juror sheets. I was nervous and baffled. I'd seen too many miracles to doubt, I knew the numbers and occupations meant something Godly, but now I was trying to figure out what they meant. I guessed I had misinterpreted the meaning of what I wrote, which wasn't rare with prophecies... "God, this is your jury," I said under my breath and I ran my fingers over the numbers. When I got to number three, "click, click, click." I circled number three on the attorney's summary sheet. When my fingers hit number six, the same thing, "Click, click, click," and I circled number six, and then nine, ten, eleven, twelve, and sixteen." I handed the summary sheet with the numbers circled to my attorney who brushed me off and continued to read every detail of every sheet, and urged me to do the same. I was finished with my reading. I did notice that nine, ten and eleven's occupations matched what I had written down.
The prosecutors went first asking all the jurors questions in a survey first, having them raise their hands if they agreed or disagreed. Then they went to each one personally with a few questions. When they got to number three, they asked her what she knew about oxycodones.
"More than you might think, my husband is a 'RETIRED PHARMACIST,' he hates what these things are doing to people."
I hit my attorney who still brushed me off as if to say, "beginner's luck," but he heard it, "retired pharmacist," and I felt the fire of the Holy Spirit in the room and heard the giggle. I was suddenly filled with confidence and was on fire knowing God was with me.
Minutes later the prosecutor explained procedure to juror number six who raised his open hand and said, "I understand... The type of adviser I am for the airline industry is an attorney, I was 'PROSECUTOR' in Dade County for ten years before working for the airlines." 'Retired Prosecutor...'
"Oooo," I laughed out loud and hit my attorney who was now looking quite different, shaking his head in disbelief... "How?" was all he said.
I immediately counted to number sixteen, I'm a man, I wanted to see the girl who used to dance on men for money; And she was beautiful, tanned up, huge fake breasts, red dress just so... I looked at her sheet and she had graduated to a much more noble profession, bless her heart, she was a cocktail waitress at Hard Rock Seminole Casino. I showed my attorney, who immediately counted the jurors to number sixteen and smiled at her huge breasts and shook his head. He raised his hands to each side and shrugged his shoulders, "God is with you," he finally agreed.
Now we were having fun. The prosecution finally stopped interrogating the potential jurors after two and a half hours. We were all bored and wore out. My attorney asked me, "Well, this is your jury what do you want me to ask them?"
"Nothing," was my immediate response, "They're wore out, if we ask them anything, they're going to hate us, let's be the good guys."
"Cary, this is your constitutional right to question a jury of your peers. We have to ask them something."
"Alright, alright. Just keep it fun and keep it short, and whatever you do, do not ask numbers three, six, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, or sixteen anything."
"OK, keep it fun, I can do that." And he did. He was hilarious and he kept it short. They loved us, laughing and carrying on.
"Did I do well?" he asked as he returned to his seat.
"You did so well, they love us."
It was time to cross out jurors we or they did not want. The Judge read, "Juror number one," they scratched. "Juror number two," we scratched. "Juror number three," no one scratched. "Number four," they scratched. "Number five," we scratched. "Number six," no one scratched... And when the Judge said "Number sixteen" and no one scratched...
I said, "Stop, we got 'em," to my attorney who said,
"We need seven."
"We got seven, and they're our seven," I said smiling.
His eyes opened wider and he said strategically hiding his emotions, "uh that's seven, anyone else interested in getting home at a decent hour?"
Nick Glance shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't mind."
My attorney had just witnessed his first miracle, and I had a good one for my books.
I slept very good that night for having a trial where I could lose many years of my life the next day. The time I couldn't sleep was because I was so excited. After ten months I got to go home to my children and wrestle Cam and Max on the carpet; after ten months of sleeping on a concrete bed, I was going to sleep in a real bed, eat real food, hug my family, I could go on and on. I was excited and on fire for the Lord who was going to start a rehab center with me. I had written five books in the ten months and was going to be able to publish one or two right away. I couldn't wait for trial.
The next morning before trial, my attorney walked into the court room running his hands through his hair, shaking his head as he approached me, "I still can't figure out how you did that with the jury," he said in disbelief.
"Neat card trick huh?" I said smiling. I handed him a piece of paper with a Bible verse the Spirit chose for him.
He asked, "Ezekial, who's that... What is this?"
"It's a Bible verse."
"Oh... I'll read it," he said truthfully, knowing God was with me. Isn't it beautiful how God works.
The trial was going really fairly crappy. My attorney wasn't bringing to light the entrapment theory like he could have, but then again, he was, like so many in the audience were, and I myself was, waiting for me to speak, knowing it was a slam dunk once I shared the truth and whatever else I might come up with. This was going to be fun.
My co-defendant, the bartender said, "Cary never was a drug dealer." He also, when showed forty pills in a bottle and was asked, "are these the drugs?" said, "No," immediately, loudly and confidently. He was their witness.
"How do you know they are not the same?"
"The bottle was clear, not orange tinted, and there were only ten or twelve pills at the most in the bottle they threw in Cary's lap."
I couldn't help myself, I laughed out loud, so did my attorney. It was funny.
What wasn't funny was one of the recorded phone conversations where I played the part of a drug dealer too well when trying to get the price back to four dollars. They played me to get me to negotiate. However, with me explaining what I was really doing in that phone call, by telling the jurors the truth, that phone call will switch teams and prove I probably wasn't a drug dealer, plus, after I speak they will either be forced to bring Mike in, or if they don't, it's basically an admission of "the story Cary's telling is likely true" at least. I was confident the truth would prevail when I spoke, and the jury would be offended the prosecution was still trying to imprison me and using trickery, changing amounts of drugs to make a charge go from a one year misdemeanor to a fifteen year minimum mandatory felony... Oh and get this, somehow the calls that would help weren't recorded, like where Mike yelled and said, "I didn't tell him to call you!" it showed up on the call logs in between other calls that were recorded, but somehow it didn't record that one. The police said Mike initiated the bust, because he was worried about a drug dealer being in his neighborhood with his kids. They paid Mike one hundred fifty dollars for turning in a drug dealer. They said Mike did not know me personally and had just met me in the subdivision two days before the bust. They said Mike only called me two times, he had called me twelve times and from two different phones and the calls started three days before they testified they had. I guess they didn't think we'd have the call log for Mike, because he made seven calls on Friday alone, one to me, followed by four in a row to two different officers (trying to stop the deal), another one to me later, followed by a twenty minute call to a police officers phone (cop trying to cool Mike down).
As the trial wound down, it was nearing my turn to speak, and I didn't have to say much. I was asking the Holy Spirit what I should leave out when I spoke. I kept getting the same message, "I'd rather you not speak." After a number of times, I repeated what I was hearing, "You'd rather me not speak?"
"Correct."
"I'll be found guilty, we haven't disclosed enough."
"You will."
"What!?" I was freaking out.
Just then the Judge said, "Mr. Aubuchon, are you ready to testify?"
I stood up with my hands out in front of me bent over a little in a football type stance, "I need a break... I need a break," I repeated seriously.
"Will fifteen minutes be enough?"
"No!" I said.
"Well I'll give you twenty minutes, but that's it."
"Thank you Judge," I said trying to keep my senses.
A bailiff led me to an empty cell where I sat and walked and paced, and yelled at the Lord. No one yelled back. One voice after another calmly responded, all with the same gentle, "We'd rather you stay, we have some things we want to train you for."
"But my kids are waiting for me to wrestle on the carpet with them tonight."
"Cary," Jesus voice said, "This is not a command. You can go home tonight, you will work for us the rest of your life, you will be wealthy, you can start the rehab centers, your books will do well."
"But you'd rather me stay? They're talking forty years."
"That won't happen."
"Can I come back on appeal?"
"Yes, and I will prove to all, that no jury would have convicted you had you spoke, and, that I asked you to stay." Jesus was so powerful.
The Holy Spirit shared the same gentle, "We'd rather you stay, we need to train you for a greater purpose."
The Spirit of God then took his turn. No one was anything but gentle, and all shared the same, "we'd rather you stay."
Jesus' Spirit then took over and talked me through it. People don't realize there is a difference between Jesus and his Spirit, but there is, and I can't decide which one's a bigger maniac, wait till you see my purpose mature over the next few years. Jesus is so cool. But this day in court, He was killing me.
When the twenty minutes were up, the bailiff opened the cell door and said, "He was answering you wasn't he?"
"Yes sir, and I can't believe it, but I'm going to go and not speak for the King of the Universe."
"Aubuchon!... Are you sure? You'll be found guilty, you need to speak," the bailiff, like so many guards had grown to love me over the months. He was amazed by what he saw, and what he was hearing.
"Mr. Aubuchon, are you ready to testify?" the Judge said expecting a confident 'yes.'
"I am not going to speak?" I said regretfully.
"You're not?" the Judge said.
"You're not?" the prosecutors said together.
"You're not?" my attorney said.
It sounded like a Three Stooges episode.
"I'm not," I repeated. "Someone much wiser than anyone in this courtroom has asked me not to speak." I had no cell phone, no communications with anyone during the break, I was in a cell by myself.
My attorney closed, and could not even use the entrapment defense because I didn't speak, so he did his best to convince the jury there was no chance of the deal happening, the police didn't even have four hundred pills, the most I could have attempted to buy that day was ten to twelve pills as my co-defendant pointed out. You can't attempt to buy something that does not exist.
I was found guilty that evening of two charges and was beat up in every way, I felt like I weighed four hundred and fifty pounds, a heaviness was on me that wouldn't lift. When I got back to the jail and into my cell, I laid down on my bunk and began to cry; after a few minutes, I opened the Bible wanting something from God. I opened it and on the page it opened to words rose up and got larger as if I'd zoomed in on them.
"Well done, my good and faithful servant." I cried harder knowing God was proud of me. I turned to another page and again words arose and were magnified.
"This is my son in whom I am well pleased," pulsated in the air. The cry was now a mixed cry... my son, my son?
An unexplained joy overwhelmed me, and the heaviness was gone for I was completely in spirit as I heard an applause from hundreds of spirits from a heavenly realm.
In my head, I still hoped somehow, before I was sentenced the truth would come out, that Mike would come forward, or one of the cops; I hoped for a re-trial, anything but years in prison, but when none of that happened I was not weighted down, the joy remained as I was sentenced and throughout my prison sentence. I work for God, an awesome, powerful and cool God whose ways are not like ours; He, personally asked me to stay and had my back in a way that gave me confidence in life or death situations over the next few years as I was trained to build and manage huge businesses for Jesus.
The jury convicted me of a lesser included crime, they agreed with the ten to twelve pills on the actual trafficking which was dropped to a simple possession. I received a sixty month sentence, five years Department of Corrections, prison time. Following sentencing I was moved to two more counties over the next year and a half, where I fought eight more construction charges, all were dropped to misdemeanors eventually. More than fight charges though, I was being trained by the Spirit, I should say the Spirits of God, my new best friends, Jesus, the King, the Holy Spirit who speaks to many, the Spirit of God and all his wisdom, and Jesus' Spirit, who has been training great men and leaders since the beginning; Moses, Elijah, King David, Buddha, Michelangelo, George Washington and Albert Einstein to name a few Jesus' Spirit has personally trained.
I was trained to hear and communicate in a few different ways, to recognize which spirit is guiding me at any given time. I've met and hung out with great spirits of the past, some who have helped me with understanding things like physics and fusion, and some who just make me laugh every time I communicate with them, Elijah for one.
I received inventions, almost one hundred inventions from spirit, and am being put in charge of a lot of money for Jesus who is going to feed some hungry people, heal some diseases, make some changes in the United States, make some uninhabitable land inhabitable, and build a few islands and buy a couple professional ball teams. I'm in charge of most of these undertakings for Jesus in the short run. That's what I've been trained for over the forty months of training, to be a leader and business owner for Jesus.
Oh, and I did get out of prison early on an appeal which overturned one charge, and soon the remaining charge will be overturned as well, probably in a very public way; and you'll have a man who did over forty months incarceration without being guilty of any felony. I did it for Jesus, and now the fun begins.
I've got two inventions we are coming out with immediately. I've somehow done it without investor money. It hasn't happened as quickly as I'd like, but how long should it take to build ten power plants that each will power a small city, and to build ten synthetic unleaded gasoline mini factories. I guess a handful of months isn't too long to wait.
A few short form prophecies from Jesus written by me for all to read:
Florida Aquifer is always full
Multiple Zero Sclerosis
Safe Boobies
He made a pass in San Francisco
Ronda Rousey dates forty five year old champion
Two towers earth and space
Super model princess
You can't read to me
Three trillion dollar fighter
Aguillera O is God
He's got diabetes, skin and colon cancer, what's next?
"It's the spring break of mankind." - Quote from the Spirit of Jesus.
You know I love you, Cary Aubuchon
About the Author
cary aubuchon
Cary Aubuchon is an entrepreneur, inventor and writer, for the past 20 years Cary has owned companies in the internet, construction, and... (show bio)
Hi. I’m Designer of Blog Magic. I’m CEO/Founder of ThemeXpose. I’m Creative Art Director, Web Designer, UI/UX Designer, Interaction Designer, Industrial Designer, Web Developer, Business Enthusiast, StartUp Enthusiast, Speaker, Writer and Photographer. Inspired to make things looks better.
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