Ken

Guess what wrestler has this freestyle hitlist: Ridge Lovett, Melvin Miller, Ed Scott, Bryce Andonian, Brayton Lee, Will Lewan, Aden Valencia, Jaydin Eierman, Cody Chittum, Joey McKenna, Beau Bartlett, Kendric Maple, Cole Matthews, and Luke Pletcher.

I was born and raised in an Italian/American/Catholic family. Devout. Pre-Vatican II. Wanted to become a nun. Our Catholic school only went to 8th grade, so I had to go to public school after that. Back then you could post fliers for Bible studies at school without being sent to a reeducation camp. A new friend who knew I was “religious” pointed to a poster and said, “you might like that. You should go.” (InterVarsity Christian Fellowship). So I did. What I saw were kids talking about Jesus like he was alive, praying to God like He was listening. I used to kneel before the monstrance wondering how they could fit Jesus inside that little circle. Jesus was always dead, hanging on that crucifix. At the same time my father was dying of cancer. Back then there were no treatments. There was no hospice. I was 15 years old giving my dad shots of morphine and helping him use a plastic urinal and a bedpan. I had to know: What happens to us when we die? Is there a heaven and a hell? How do I get to heaven? At the same time I was going to catechism classes and began asking questions. Eventually the priest came to the house and had a talk with my parents. I was forbidden to go to Bible study. I was forbidden to read the Bible. I was forbidden to associate with my new friends. Because I knew that one of the Ten Commandments was to honor your father and mother, I obeyed. Then when my father died and I turned 18, I came forward during an evangelistic concert in late 1979. I freely and publicly professed faith in Jesus Christ — the faith that had been brewing all along. God saved me. I was born again. I was rejected by my family. I will never go back.